This book is dedicated to the men, women, and youth who have found themselves in the cells of the department of corrections. May you know that someone believes in your ability to pivot. To grow. To find the light that beats in your chest and let it be the song you groove to.
These poems were all written with individual cohorts of up to 11 people in mind. Each poem was written for a different cohort, and at times, by the participants themselves.
My hope is no matter the muse, the person reading is reminded that they too are love waiting to bloom. And as soon as the ground breaks, give yourself the opportunity to do just that; bloom.
N WHAT'S I SIDE
THEUNIQUENESSOFTHIS BOOK:
TO MY PARTICIPANTS PAST AND FUTURE
For the last two years, I have been working with young people (mostly young men/teen boys) who are incarcerated at Marion County Community Corrections and Logansport Juvenile Center, for 6 weeks at a time, teaching a program that deep dives into their individual identity I have met well over 60+ young men and women whom I’ve had the pleasure of speaking with candidly about their futures I usually introduce myself to each group with a poem and by the end of our time together, I compose a poem for them; something to solidify that I’ve not only been listening, but I’ve seen each and every face in the room I can’t save every person t But I can try, with every t on every person in the room e that, and I always lean on ill always remember how you any of these faces again or get hat I’ve left them all feeling ope they’ve experienced love in
ent to how God (should you ariety of bottles Should you he message in, it could be life
n those who they were written ust in our short moments I e hope than they walked into it grow towards the sunshine as at the love expelled in these our time together.
SIGN LANGUAGE
What started as 10 turned to 9 real quick
When you’re like me,
You can feel the heartbeat skip when they walk into the room and one is missing
Because that’s the first pair of ears that is are longer listening, It gets real, real quick
And the question becomes, what can I do to make sure this fine 9 doesn’t feel as though their time is wasted in a place where it’s all they have,
Where minutes make no sounds, clocks don’t tick,
Where days and nights stick together and have the same sunlight, moon drip and weather
Everything smells sterile like stainless steel distorting reflectionsWhere trays and sacks aren’t always good or fair
Where fairness went out the window when the doors closed, Where roses only meet concrete in the metaphorical sense,
This is survival,
And here I am with a bible worth of notebook pages, hoping to inspire internal changes
And help you wage a healthy war on your shadow self,
Because you’re gonna need it more than I can explain in a short 6 weeks, And I hope if this is where you gonna be, that we get to meet again
And talk some more
Get deeper now that we’re no strangers anymore
I think you trust me enough to know I ain’t playing about what I say to you, Yaw still flowers to me
And I know them thorns and that thick skin don’t exist for no reason, This is protection in the endless well, Where folks talk the mattress in their cell
Its dark sometimes
And the mind is a tricky place where pictures get sketched
And the next face you see can be IMPD fetching your cell mate for that long sit down and wait
Now it’s too quiet
Or so loud in thought that your body wants to riot in rejection and rebellion
Screaming, yelling, punching, and kicking and it's like no one gets it, except the ones who do
And although I've never existed in this particular type of space, I want you to know that I see you
As human
Young men who know how to control the energy in the room, Who know the difference when they are feeling a 4 from a 2 which means you still feel
Some of you still kneel at night and talk to God about things no one else is privy to Still cry a river of tears that if it could carry you through your sentence, Would get you finished overnight
I see your smile
Broken, crooked, yet still making an appearance, Maybe not as bright as it once was but still able to be witnessed
And my challenge is
How do I make my collected wisdom
Relavant to you when you’re facing a prison sentence and ain’t trying to hear shit on no ‘joy in their heart’ when the start of every day is so bleak
And dark
Unless they leave the lights on, even when its lights out
And -
You ain’t really trying to talk about what happening out there
Without you
While you’re in here
A and C Block trappin
Rapping, capping and tapping on tables to pass the time I see in your eyes the refusal to allow yourself to think past the moment
Because for what
Even the books you get lost in can turn into contraband overnight
23 in and 1 hour out ain’t meant to keep anyone right in the head
So the bed becomes your sanctuary
Trouble becomes your best friend, Its when you trust yourself the most Karma hosts parties everyday and when your name is called, You gotta sit at the table and eat it
And if you ain’t careful, the food will devour YOU, leaving you defeated
Depleted of your internal resources
Lost from the self that once believed better would come for him, Now its sink or swim and even when your arms are tired, you back stroke across this tightrope wire, Trying not to fall and make it worse
And then in we come with “programming”
Which to be quite honest, can sometimes be all peanut butter, No jam,
Leaving you dry mouth, silenced, and unseen, No sweet,
What started as 10 turned to 9 the next week,
And then there were seven.
A stark reminder that this 2 hours is out of week that has 166 more Waiting to be released
And when you facing football numbers, The same seven you expected to touch down at graduation Can quickly turn into 3
And in this field
The goal is touch as many as who line the room so a loss ain’t an ‘oh well’
Your frustration ain’t a ‘so what’
And while this six weeks may feel like a drop in a ocean of endless seconds that never quite turn into full minutes
I pray there was something worth remembering That in between sliming, And being grimy
And of course, surviving
You take a moment to polish the diamond that’s still in your chest
That you hold onto my voice saying I know it’s there,
Despite and against all odds and mistakes, There is greatness in you
And no matter how many clocks are removed from your vision, It will always be your decision to tap all the way in And believe that you still carry light
You are the one thing that you will always have, Its ok to be gentle with that guy, What started as ten turned into 9
Then seven
Now 3
The trinity of completion, Mind, body, and spirit working on unification
I’m begging you not to stop it
Harmony, wisdom and understanding
You each have a torch in your hand
And I’m just shy of demanding
That you don’t drop it.
Time
It takes time to impart an impact on young men who everyone else is looking at from the lens of their crime
Just know that I see you, And have every time
Kintsugi
Kintsugi is the Japanese art of putting broken pottery pieces back together with gold built on the idea that in embracing flaws and imperfections, you can create an even stronger, more beautiful piece of art. Every break is unique and instead of repairing an item like new, the 400-year-old technique actually highlights the "scars" as a part of the design Using this as a metaphor for healing ourselves teaches us an important lesson: Sometimes in the process of repairing things that have broken, we actually create something more unique, beautiful and resilient.
“Kintsugi” Cohort#2
he walks the halls
But his spirit is not broken
Maybe a bit bruised
Sometimes he wakes up confused at his choices Decisions
Wishes he could do over things that are a done deal and now he must accept the real Reality of where he is
And how he got here
But he is not a broken Kintsugi my dear
The process of turning cracks into solid gold artful pieces Collectors item,
He's his own trophy
Look at all this breathe still sittting in his lungs when so many days risked it all
Risked every heartbeat
Every next second
Every call you later was met with ability to do so
Yet he made it
Even when so many others didn’t
Is this situation ideal
Naw,
No one wants to think about going to jail or prison but if in here means he’s still alive
Then there is rhyme and reason to the punchline of the jokes he’s played
Maybe he even played himself sometimes, but who hasn’t
But the mind is not a broken place
He talks in slang but he is no ones fool
No one’s idiot or second best
My guess is part of the reason we stand here now is because of the fialure of village that surrounded him
At what point do we aknowledge how much we’ve sacrificed the future the mental health of young black men who will become a statistic in one way If we don’t show them love properly, everyday From day one
He talks in slang but he’s still someone’s son Someone’s light of the way
Earthy tone, Black skin, still someone’s father and next of kin They say where you are, you should just give up Ain’t No touching, can’t give hugs, But may this poem be an ACT of love from me to you i see you young baby boy
Still a child in my eyes cause I've lived to be wiser than my first 17 years
But I shed tears from 17 to 23 to 34
Took a while for me to figure out what door to travel through What opening was full of glue on the floor
Where I might get stuck and where I might fly became a hard lesson I hit my head on time and time
And while I've written many sentences, I've never served one And I want you to know that through you, I've learned to judge less, Help more
Be a flame that lights the room for the young men whose core soul has the strength of a 1000 moons They walk through these halls
Heads down
Bodies bruised from survival skills
Minds full of green slime and too much time But let me remind all who need to hear it
These humans
With soulful spirits
Black boys, future men, These are not lost causes, These are the reason whys
The stories that live within their hearts could make a grown man cry And I’ve watched them choke back tears and pass the mic to their peers
I've answered questions and listened to voices speak of tears that may or may not be shed,
Never forget that you are -
Future Black men
Young black boys
There's still room for you at the top and what doesn’t exist
Create it
Make the space for you to exist and flourish when given another chance Don’t hold your head down unless ordered to do so
And even then, Hold it up in your mind
Narrate this life experience until you find the outward voice that speaks with purpose
And intention
To find the stars
And never stop listening to what they say.
He talks in slang,
Walks these halls
He wears these clothes
He heeds the calls
But he is not who he did, And he isn’t always who they think he is
In many ways,
Still a kid
A young black kid
In need of people who won’t further try to break his spirit
Like those who already failed him Did. he walks the halls
But his spirit is not broken
Maybe a bit bruised
Sometimes he wakes up confused at his choices
Decisions
Wishes he could do over things that are a done deal and now he must accept the real
Reality of where he is
And how he got here
But he is not a broken Kintsugi my dear
The process of turning cracks into solid gold artful pieces
Collectors item, Don't ever forget
You are a still a trophy
A survivor
Dedicated for success
Responsible for how your life plays out without issues being pressed Black
Shiny,like laquer
Collect your own soul Keep it ready, Hold on and grow it And release And Never forget
You are a gold artful piece
P O W E R F U L B E I N G
W E R F U L B E I N
There is something that I need you to remember -
You are part of a bigger picture
A whole poem
An unmovable mountain
Mr I AM a powerful being,
YOU ARE not the sum of your mistakes, (you’re) Simply in a space where the reap brings clarity to the sew
And it is solely your choice whether you go up, down, or stand idle in the middle, and I have come with a song and a hypothetical fiddle, playing a tune that I hope hypnotizes you into remembering and believing that you too can find a destiny beyond these walls
One that is larger than the past decisions that have you sitting at tables where you are the feast on the judicial plate
You need to eat too !
You gotta see past the hardened exterior of how you got here and start envisioning where you want to be and choose What are your possibilities and how do you walk in those shoes
Your eyes have told me stories that are worth listening to, Hold your head up when you’re awake, Pick your feet up when you walk
Make yourself believe who you are,
Speak in confidence when you talk
You're part of a bigger story baby, A larger picture in need of your presence inside to stand there and make it whole
Even your broken pieces belong
Beverly’s hills are waiting for your footprints to explore its relaxed concrete
These streets don’t deserve your life
This jail doesn’t deserve your soul
Hasn't anyone told you that before
HaveyoueverheardIloveyouwithoutasoontofollowask?
A POWERFUL BEING
Is it ok for me to tell you that you are a flow
That you can permeate the room with a sce It's all up to you
But in case no one’s ever told you
You are not just a number or a random spe
You are a necessary piece of the photograp
You are a poem waiting on a stanza to desc Kintsugi, outlined in gold where the cracks
But he who refuses to give up on himself will always have a crack in the door, a window of escaping situations that chang from the middle of your dreams-to the sidelines where screams, wails, and cries are heard where bars are the music that close you in at night,
I need you to fight for your flight because you still got wings! And right now, truth be told they might feel strapped behind your back-Collapsed-
There's a concrete ceiling above your head and ain’t no flying above that but remember what I told you: What's “in here” (chest cavity) is a rock boulder and the older you get, the more it will push up your shoulders and help to arch your back
Stand you up straight
No one can take that from you Peace is an internal job
You gotta own that Him
The him inside
You are a poem someone’s been waiting to write
Your unauthorized autobiography Is right here tonight
Standing tall on this piece of paper as i It's easy for the likes of me to tell you w And how to turn the other cheek, What I would do “if I were you”
But it’s your lived experience that requi
So rather than preach, I say I get it
And it’s not to humor you, it's because I do
I'm in them same trenches as you, where glass bottles go from sidewalk memorials to broke pieces in alleyways
I know this life well from night to day
That's why it’s important for me to say that you can get everything you want and need using a better play
Not too long ago, I drove up and around a mountain
At ten miles per hour
Gripping the steering wheel close to my chest
I let the SUV hug the corners ever so tightly
Slightly speeding up just to get around the blind spots
The carved-out street was a snake road
And as high as I was willing to go,
The valley sat alongside of me
I noticed something
Mountains, for as large and grand as they are
Are made up of smaller rocks
And if any of these smaller rocks were to fall, They too become as powerful as the mountain itself
And without them, the mountain decreases in size
The smaller rocks make up the whole picture
The mountain
When was the last time you heard that YOU are a mountain?
A rock?
Or a flower???
The bloom ascending toward the sky?
People will make it easy to leave anger in your eyes, and stand on you where you lie...
But few will help you tap into that “Power Pie”
Take your slice and refrigerate the rest.
Keep your head focused on the deep end, Walk in your best
Leave footprints for the rest to remember you by
Tell the streets and its sweets bye bye -
And make this next leg of your journey a challenge to fly higher than you have before
I need you to remember that you are part of
A bigger a picture,
One worth seeing
A whole poem,
An unmovable mountain,
You are a power full ANDa powerful being.
THE BIGGER YOU
You know what the hardest part isLetting go
Knowing that
Odds are i will never see you again, never really know if i made a difference in your life, In your world
Your thought process I won’t know if you’re out or in, In between, In cohoots
Boots on the ground with your hood troops, Back doing the things you know how to do
All i can do is hope from a poetic heart and a focused mind that there was something in the time we spent together That will linger on with you
Push you to dare yourself to think, dream, and act bigger Even if you don’t speak it out loud, Even if,
When in the crowd, the right thing to do is go with the flow, Say Ms Januarie didn’t know what she was talking about even though if you were turned inside out, people would see pieces of what we talked about lodged in your rib cages for protection
This might not even really be a poem, More like a prayer
Hope that a layer of what we’ve discusse
Something that you can mentally return to Be reminded
Ms Januarie was still able to see you as a diamond
Maybe rough around the edges, Might need a bit of shining but who can take your soul?
Who can steal your heartbeat? Your blood flow? Your humanity?
There’s a choice to go right or left, Call it up or down
You can leave here and turn your life around or you can return to the same old party and drink the same ole kool aid
But trust me when i say,
As the saying goes, “you take you with you everywhere you go”
And its my personal hope,
That you use your ‘time’ to really tap into your personal growth
Let lessons fall against your skin like satin sheets, Be open to growing beyond the height of your feet, are you gonna be a giant or nah? You gonna get rained on or -
Be the Reign?
You gonna follow the grain or go against it?
Is the love of your friends worth missing it?
Oh you don’t know what “IT” is??? ITS YOU???!!!! What is worth, You? Who? Who is worth, YOU? Your future – that one you know you want
You outlined it
That’s why this is the hard part
The point where my eyes have to turn away
Remain dry
Keep moving
Might see you in passing when I'm in with my new classes but don’t know if you want me to speak so i tend to just smile and pray you know i know who you are
Not just another kid marked or an unhealable scar
My main goal is to give
Know that some of us facilitators care too.
I don’t see you from what is said about you, only what your heart has shown to me,
I don’t forget you
I hope i planted roots to grow the tree
To help you see what i see When you stare in the mirror
Think bigger than the moment
Be better than your anger and wiser than your peers.
Quick rewards are cute but imagine spending years happy, And free.
I hope you think of the future - yours
And the flowers,
How they smell
What they mean
Why they were given to you
i give you flowers because we encourage people to do it while others are alive to smell them,
And so i attach to you, a softness in a spirit of colorful encouragement, whether its the healing properties of chamomile or the promises to forget you not, Maybe no one ever said they wouldn’t forget you.
Or that they believed in your larger, longer-lived moments Not the troublesome seconds that provide instantaneous satisfaction...
I believe in the bigger picture you’ve drawn over these 6 weeks
I think you each got feet fitted for the journey if you’re willing to take it. And that’s what always makes it hard for me,
The hardest part.
Letting go
Giving you back to you for these two hours in a week of so much more going on and things to do....
Not knowing
But hoping, and praying through poetry
That as much as i believe in Bigger.
you believe in the Bigger You too.
The Lotus Flower
Lotus flowers grow in the mud. Each night, they return to the mud, and then miraculously re-bloom in the morning.
They're a symbol of rebirth, selfregeneration, purity and enlightenment
BBloom Bloom loom
Lotus flowers find their greatest seasoning in the mud, A space where other flowers snub, side eye and turn their noses up, It's a dance specifically for the Lotus because it gets muddy at night, But in the day light, his petals are cleanhis roots are attached to the floor of the swamp’s muddiest pits, And his growth, -Able if there is no ceilingto expand far beyond the depths of the bottom, sitting him properly afloat where the oxygen flows freely Few will take pride in the smell that mud leaves, on the very leaves that it needs to keep itself warm at night This unfenced part of the yard yields few other visitors But there are nutrients here for the lotus, In the dusk, it swims back into the mud, the thick of things where sounds that ring out can cost lives, where slime and sludge slow you down but speed you up in the mind,
It's an adrenaline rush indeed but the mud is what the lotus flower needs to open up the morning with a brand-new bloom, unfiltered yet lacking dirt, No signs of the strife and stress it may have survived throughout the night with no rest as it tries to stay alive, Floating across the swampy areas that have do not swim signs to warn of impending danger but lotus flowers get strong from the danger, It is tattoo’d on the petals they push weight with And sometimes on their faces -- boyz in the hood, Just trying to make it,
But how can you can you make it bloom when no one in the room with you ever dared to tell you that you could, They just say you no good,
Up to no good, Jailbird, all hood,
Stuck in the mud like a broken piece of wood, Worn and unusable until someone needs a firepit
Ricky, Tre, Ice Cube, and Dre,
The names may change but everyone gets a chance at the hood dance where they decide to fall in the mud, or grow from it,
In light, men see enlightenment as open souls, Sourcing energy from the sun, being sons, someone is proud to say, “he made it”,
Being a light that beams from your eyes because of the pride you carry with honor,
Just because you are you, Becuase the morning came and you started to find your way toward a bloom, And maybe,
Just maybe it’s because someone like me, Met you, Named you a lotus flower.
Its ok to be returned to the mud sometimes,
To have to get your knees dirty, to stand where other flowers look from afar and question why you’re there, They don’t understand It's something here for you, Something left for you to do, right
What else more for you to do right, they make it hard for you to believe those dreams you got can be achieved with what you got following you, And you aint the type to get down on your knees and beg for no food
So, back to the Earthly clay you return,
Let the rest of the world burn, it’s someone left for you to love over here, Some loyalty, ready to give you a hug from down here, In this mud, this dark murky marshland that begs with open arms for you to return Be careful, it might choke you And it’s waiting for you, To give it more of you, And less bloom, Be bold enough to leave the room and let your grandest possibilities open up Folks don’t want you thinking too hard down in the mud, you might unearth a realization that it is time for a new day, With a better play and bigger pay, Lesser risk
You gotta stick your head out the mud tho, Flower.
This is your opportunity to move the room, shift the focus, to learn to fly in the wind’s groove, that's why i wrote this, to speak to you as if you were a lotus, the flower that gets it out of the mud, that stands tall no matter how deep and honestly prefers that side of the street, But if no one ever told you that you get to bloom in the day, Who are we to stay mad about the fact that you need help learning how, So, I pray that someone else helps you learn just how vibrant you are in the daylight and how to carry that torch through the night, Into the mud,
Without being sacrificed, or suffocated by the need to go underneath and be consumed, Flowers deserve their time in the sun, You need to self fulfilment of being in bloom, If for no other reason than because it’s something you’ve never had the conscious chance to do, To create your own runways and watch the people applaud you, To learn the intricacies of blending heat and pressure and watching it catapult you,
Stratospheric bloom
Where you are the artist Turning cars into canvas’
Wrapping fleets of big rigs
In the most vibrant colors So when they drive across the country, You'll know to whom they belong. What has anchored you does not have to hold you, Buddhism teaches you that without mud, there is no lotus, but the lotus is not stained by its home base.
It's ok to have mud at your roots, dirt on your record, even some stain on your name, That's the journey of all lotus flowers. Where the streets get muddy at night but in the daytime-
his petals are clean
Make it make sense so you can bloom lotus flower, He who masters hisself, Wears the ring.
Sunflower Field
Women hold pain like no other We store it in our chest plates
Repressing it until our shoulders have weighed inwards and our back breaks, And then suddenly too many of our words and actions become casualties of our mistakes, Miss, take what she wants when she needs, MissTongue too sharp and her words will make you bleed, miss, I got mouths to feed, So, I do what I gotta get done, Miss-
Feeling like she’s the only one that ever watched the light get ripped right out of the sun and darkness become both enemy territory, and the only familiar place
It's not abnormal to find safety in all that is opposite of what is supposedly right,
Sometimes the night is the only time she gets to ....breathe
Without pauseOr interruption-Or reminder of what she isn't, And how she didn’t
Too many people question her reactive nature but never wonder about the catalyst
Too many times she’s climbed inside and been cut too early out of her chrysalis
But I still see you sis,
Don't let your pocketed consequences disturb the whole of your confidence,
The world will try to tear you to shreds so you gotta be intentional about your defense,
What cannot be removed from you will always be your personal power, Stand up out of the mud and start to bloom like a lotus flower, Like it’s by the hour by which you grow in the field
And in your pocket are Sunflower seeds you intend to sow and then yield, No hoe, all rich soil and your hands,
tapping back into earth as if you are unafraid of what’s next, And, even when it's a worm, you gotta know its just a test, ThAT you CAN pass
You were thought of, when the world was created (mama)
Whether it was love or accidents being made, you gotta own your journey like you slid into this realm with groundwork to be laid
And you’re here for the job
It's your life
Your heartbeat, Your one opportunity to see this thing through, On the upswing of glory and joy, Of smiles cascading one after another,
Don't your dimples deserve to show more than your tears, andAren't your eyes worthy of beaming rays that could marvel the sun? doesn’t your heart still need love, But from the right ones
Don't you know it starts with you....
With how you wake up and decide to move, Run through the sunflower field with your arms dangling and your legs jumping.
Take up space all around you, Queen, there is a legacy attached to you And it deserves for you to see it through
And if you don’t quite know who you are, it’s ok. because when new days roll in, so do new opportunities to deep dive inside of you
Ask your inner child what she misses doing the most and respond to her with love,
Respond to all of you....with love, Like, look at how your eyes are shaped – soul windows that know first hand all you’ve had to take, And survived
Look at those lifelines in your palms
Baby, you are still alive
You are not a ghost, Or a blunder
You are the melody in thunder, You are the boom, You can move the room with just one look
You are a book worth writing, Reading,
A story needing to be told, you are the bold truth, And the truth is, The sunflower field, is full of stingers and venom, It’s fun to run through, but you still gotta watch your step, protect your chest and treasure your next breath more than the right snapshot. You are the only YOU, That you got
Take care of her like you would a safe full of cash Guard her
But let her grow until she flies higher, The more she is healed. And may you only come down for a quick run through a sunflower field.
Heart & Brain
There are two things no one can take: Your heart and your brain. The funny thing about life is We get thrown into with no expectation or understanding of what to do And for some of us, We grow up without the bare basic needs such as protection from all evil and home-cooked food, and folks
Really want us to still keep our focus, Make the grades, Be the smartest, Make the room take notice
But it’s hard to grow from this...mud. Hard not to feel stuck when we’ve learned survival before we learn love, We love through trial and error and we find our trust broken by puberty so much that the armor around our heart could almost stop it from beating, When I say it’s not easy, I mean it
I seen it,
Screamed from it in the corner pockets of my young 20s, Bullied as a teenager and who never I used to hate to hear my name So I created a nickname and And grew into the personality of tha Until I became estranged from the o And all the pain and hurt and disap as me,
I tell you this for a reason
I stumbled my way through more th saw me using space heaters to heat o ice cold,
I made bold choices that left me too Doing the most and gaining the leas Feeling like i was climbing a ladder
I once held a knife
... so close to my chest that i could feel the afterlife
If it was all just a test, I was standing tall with both of my arms, flying parallel and opposite of the left,
Color me an F
I almost quit, Gave up, gave in
Considered stealing my next win because there simply weren’t enough of those
And had never been
When i say I get it, my friend,
It’s because I've lived my own version of it
I've had to push to see light coming out of myself, there once appeared to be so much darkness,
And a closed heart and these,
Cold eyes that could freeze a room still
Landing myself in more than a couple of rooms that could have gotten me killed,
I definitely should have been killed that one time
It’s many different ways and reasons why we end up with bars in front of our eyes but I don’t come to chastise your choices
I’d rather remind you that you’re alive
Tell you, and mean it, that your success is important to me
Even if i never see it
Do more than just opening your eyes and just ‘be’
Do more than just breathe
Make these breaths, and all these hot, long seconds and all these tiring these steps,
Make them count
Give it a reason bigger than your ‘why or how you got here’,
Sit with yourself and make a plan and sketch it out, Speak it into existence and move in confidence without doubt Heart and brain
Believe that you are grander than the past you are paying f Or running from
You have far more valuable than any negative environment that you come from,
Or anyone who misled or misloved you
Believe your growth is like the moon,
Completely unbothered by the return of the sun, It is still visibly present
Front and center for itself,
Come on flower,
Let me see you stand up out the mud
Get empowered
Give yourself a bigger chance than a shoulder shrug
Look at your reflection, with the respect of a gladiator
No one on this earth will ever sit with you as much as you are with yourself
You gotta make him proud
Do him right, give him a chance at a full life
Not handcuffs and caskets,
Let’s eat sweet potato, pumpkin pies, and shoot baskets
Lets travel
And move around,
Dabble in fashion,
Handle electricity like magic,
Own a mansion, In the hills
Or a house like your grandparents
Learn new business skills,
Go around the country with your CDLs
Relocate to Vegas
Be a barber for the famous
Do tattoos
You have so much left to do that will reap you long term joy in the end
Just tap in (to)
Heart and brain
May they speak louder than the slow moments,
And have a bigger effect than all that came before you knew to ask yourself – what do i really want?
It's like we’re just thrown here,
And at some point, it becomes an expectation that we know what to do, And how to behave
But right is not always what keeps us alive,
And sometimes wrong, becomes where we thrive the most.
But Heart and brain.
The two things that no one can take are the same two things that can make all the difference in your life.
Use them wise
With confidence and patience
Know that someone believes you can do it
Stand out the mud, Flower, Your future is waiting.
In their words. . .
The poems in the following section are all spinoffs of a poem originally written by author and poet Morgan Parker, entitled “If You Are Over Staying Woke” (Magical Negro, 2021).
This poem was stripped down of most of it’s language with a few original lines remaining (similar to Mad-Libs). As a group, the young men were tasked with coming up lines to complete the poem. This poetic psycho-worldbuilding exercise was meant to stretch their language muscles as well as their ability to articulate their feelings and thoughts using imagination while also delivering a sense of optimism to themselves, from themselves.
The following is what they came up with:
If You Are Over Being Regular
Cohort 2
Water theplants.Drink plentywisdom Don’thear thefoolishnessandnegativity Get Ready Complain aboutnothing Keepaglock inyourpurse. Swipethelibrarycard sometimes Don’tsmile unlessyousucceed. Sleepin. Don’tseethenews. Rememberyour lifelinesandwhoyouare Listento theOGs Floss. Keepa positiveattitudeandopenmind Whenyouare mad donotsay
hate
Behonest whenyou’reup toit.Otherwise drinkwater often turnoffthenews turnonVH1 laughatdumbshit
Havefun don’tcareabout rules usethejuicer usethesmoothiemaker drinksmoothies fromthesky don’tthink Toomuchabout the past closeyoureyes wheneverpossible
Whenyoutoast lookeveryoneintheeyes
Nevergive up Writethenews Turn intowater
Water
thegrass,plants,andthenegativity
Burnthehate,looseends,andsadness
Crumbletheletters
Feelrelief
Watertheopportunity
Drinkthepurpose
Keepasongmind
Don’ttrip
Don'tsleepin, Don'tfumble, Fold, Don'tstop.
Fill in the Lines
(original
poem
by Morgan Parker;
Updated version by P&P Cohort 3)
Water
The plants. Drink plenty of aqua.
Don’t hear the distractions. Get the currency.
Complain about nothing. Keep a wallet in your pocket.
Swipe right sometimes Don’t smile unless smiled at. Sleep in.
Don't see the news. Remember your youth Listen to nobody but you. Floss
When you are struggling
Do not say I give up. Be honest when you’re up to it. Otherwise drink water
Vent
Turn off the news
Laugh at dumb shit, and eff everybody (else).
Don't care about the BS
Use the juicer
Use the smoothie maker
drink healthy from the sky
don’t think
Too much
Close your eyes
Whenever possible
When you toast
Look everyone in the eyes
Never fail
Write the news
Turn into water
Don't water negative perceptions
Burn the sage and the hate.
Crumble the letters
Water the flowers
Block the news
Drink the h20
Waterfall the
Songs
Keep a song mind
Don't cry
Don't bite your tongue.
Don't hold your peace.
Love From the Earth: Thee Poem
(A take on “If You Are Over Staying Woke” by Morgan Parker; created at Logansport Juvenile Corrections)
Smile and closeyoureyes wheneverpossible Whenyoutoast lookateveryonefullofpride
Neverhide
Writethenews
Turn intowater
Water theearth
Burnthelies
Crumbletheletters
Drinktheprosperity
Tryhardandprevail
Don'tgiveup
Don'tgiveup andyou won'tfail
P5ive
Water the plants. Drink plenty of water Don't hear the slurp. Get fresh. Complain about heat.
Keep a pen in your pocket Swipe money sometimes. Don’t smile unless you’re happy Sleep in. Don’t see the news. Remember who is who. Listen to you Keep a few
When you are mad do not talk bad Be honest when you’re up to it. Otherwise
I am goingto staywithGod. I am amazing. Everythingwillbe all right.
I will get my life right. I will complete my goals. I will finish school. I will get out of jail. I will humble myself I will be a better big brother.
I am going home.
From Tragedy to Triumph
Authored by Youth Cohort at(Logansport Juvenile Center)
I been through plenty tragedies It's like my life changed magically Fall, get back up Keep hope,
That's the prophecy
Time after time, Loss after loss, I ain’t tripping though
Sometimes that’s what it costs to be (the) boss It all makes you stronger
That's what its supposed to mean The system tries to hold us down But breaking free is the dream I always feed my family and friends
And all the people close to me
I love the people brought me up
Because they mean the most to me
Focus on the future
For them goals, I be like Kobe B(e)
Top of the line, Like Kobe Beef
Back on my grind, I’m focusing On all that is in front of me
Still I rise from all this tragic grief
Myself and my family are what’s important to me
Mama said “get off the ground, No matter how you fall”
Granny said, “when it’s in your hand, Shoot the ball”
Had to take a few steps and stand up like a man
Cut a few ties
Change the game and switch the plan
Pay attention to the folks always sticking out they hand
Even if they say they love you
Everybody ain’t your friend
From tragedy to triumphant moves, You don’t always get an award
Only play the game if what you stand to lose, you can afford
But better days are coming So I'ma stay focused on the light Believing in myself is King, And I was born to win this fight
For You I Write
Written by Januarie York, 2007
For you,
I write like the night comes up
Both silently and quickly, You deserve that much
For you, I write inspirational stanzas like Tupac’s Keep Your Head Up
Never give up soul brother number 1, even though I know at times you want to,
For you I write
For the convicted felons that life don’t want to give a second chance to
For you, i wrong long phrases and Godly praises in order to assist in easing your mind when you’re down, I know it ain’t easy
Trouble keeps calling your name because nobody knows the trouble you’ve been through, right?
And for you I write
For the street pharmacists that keep the local dope fiends supplied with their prescription, i write for you
I know the battle ground is hard and folks are always pulling your card,
And in turn you pull your gun
I write for you to find less permanent solutions because the last thing we need is another institutionalized Black man,
Roaming the halls of the State Correctional facility
And for you I write in hopes that one day a change will come that will provide your life with the same ease a cheetah stalks his prey with
And for you I write
Praying with my hands clasped and my eyes closed
Face looking towards the sky as I ask God to please,
Bless the souls of grimy men looking for easy ways to feed the family and kids that have come forth into their lives
“This here a man”
It's what you were born to be,
It's more than having the ability to stand up when you pee and every morning you wake up, you try to convince yourself that you are doing a damn good job of it
And no one can take that from you
And for you
I write long poems, short stories and gutter prose, sometimes leaving the rhyme out because ain’t nothing red about your roses, And you ain’t never even seen no damn blue violets.
All you know is the green grass you stuff in your brown paper to take away the pain of what you do for a living
Drug dealing
For you I write
Because even though society might not like what you do Baby i understand
I write to help your plan come together where you won’t have to get your J’s scuffed by the cops chasing you down the block I write for your spinners to spin through green lights as the police see you pass byAnd don’t make you stop Hustler,
For you I write fables to inspire the ghetto youth about the truth of the game
Not just the glitter and the glam of the street fame you receive
They don’t see the tears you cry that never actually make it to your cheeks but leak
buckets and buckets worth in your sleep,
Thankful you are, that you made it through another day
Only to fall into another broken unconsciousness filled with millionaire dreams, nightmares of street wars and liquor pouring for your boys that you’ll never see anymore
For you,
I write lyrics that that can me sung like old slave hymns that give them hope for the future
I write creations of words like the songs that played through marches for freedom during handHolding and pride showing I have faith
That one day you will be free and the shackles will be lifted from your feet Strapped in the hood no longer
For you I write that your muscles get stronger and the hunger that growls beneath your belly gets compensated and sooner than later
Before its too late My brother
You will make it out the game
Stuff will change
And for you i write that you be relieved of all your pain
That someone will come and show you another way I write for the closed doors to be open wide so that in you can walk I write for the 4x4 jail cells being occupied by three and four men who are in a constant scrippmage to hold on to their sanity
I write for you to have Access Granted I write for your creative ideas and get rich quick schemes to come into fruition
Because baby boy
I know life’s tuition can be costly And where Uncle Sam is concerned, Water is really thicker than blood, And cash rules everything around him
And for I continue
To write
For all the lost, forgotten, and remembered words and fights of Martin and Malcomn,
For you,
I write your unauthorized biography
Hoping in the midst of trading insults over whose got the illest geography, You can come together and shake hands and call a truce
For you I write,
Like a caged animal on the loose and I won’t stop,
For each one of you who has let go of the block and now rock uniforms, time cards and minimum wages as compared to the streets but still you keep your feet planted in solid soil
Ofter covering up your desire to relapse back to the hood the same way alumninum foil shelters sunday leftovers.
For you I write, Writing for the betterment of your soul
So you can fly with God and be his Johnny on the spot Black man, for you I write
So you can get old and increase your possibilities of living past 25, For you I write,
Because no matter what anyone else says, you’re still too young to die
For you I write, because for you
My eyes will never dry
For you I write,
So you will forever be inspired to get up and try
For you I write, For YOU, I write,
For you,
My brother, my King
Whether you’re hitting the Block, punching a clock or trying to re-enter as a valuable asset of our populations stock,
For you,
For you, I write.
This poem was written in 2007, more than 10 years prior to me ever working in a corrections facility At the time, I was in school for Criminal Justice and knew that I wanted to use arts to help those who were returning to society to help them with expression, language, and potentially foster a new avenue for them to keep them out of jail/prison I had no idea my dreams would turn reality Still, I had no idea at the time of writing this poem, that I was writing it for some young men, many who were still tiny kids at the time this was written, that I’d eventually meet to do just what I said I wanted to do while in school. This poem was read to my first male, young adult cohort (ages 22-24) at Marion County Despite having written it 17 years ago, I dedicated it to them
