Prisons, Poets, & Priests

If God will…
I shall see
tomorrow.
But as for today,
I must sit in prison,
awaiting wait.
And still waiting
for that enduring cycle
of all the yesteryears gone-by
to come
and chew even more of my soul
which it hasn’t already consumed.

Bang! Bang! Said the cop.
I shot you!
You’re dead!
Be quite!
And don’t make a move.
And just maybe,
if it’s God’s will,
we can play again
tomorrow.

But as for today
I must sit in prison.
Funny how
time
passes SLOWLY-QUICKLY!
And age will be paid its toll.
Causing experienced voices
to shout,
YOUTH!
It is but for a moment.
For I, too, was once young.
And to whisper prayers
for us all.
For us all.
For us all.

If God will…
I shall see
that distant tomorrow.
And I will see
your beautiful faces.
And I will embrace you all,
and tell you that
how much I really do love you.

We can go out,
go out and have pizza and coke.
I’m serious,
delirious,
about that thought.
Pizza and coke.
Coke and pizza
for us all.
For us all.
For us all.

But as for today…
I must sit in prison.
And count the stars
that do not shine.
And look into the eyes
that hold no mercy.
Eyes of faces
in prison streets
it’s where we meet.
It’s where we meet.
It’s where we meet.

Bang! Bang! Said the cop,
once again,
I shot you!
You’re dead!
Be quite!
And don’t make a move.
And just maybe,
if it’s God’s will,
we can play again
tomorrow.

But as for today
I must sit in prison.
And wonder if?
God!
Really has a hand
in the inner workings of my life.

I wanna have faith!
I wanna have faith!
I wanna have faith!
To heal…
This twisted soul.

I wanna have faith!
I wanna have faith!
I wanna have faith!
To heal…
This demented mind.

I wanna have faith!
I wanna have faith!
I wanna have faith!
To heal…
This hardened world.

World of…
Concrete steel.
World of…
Sharpened steel.
World of…
Mentality steel.
World of…
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Hey! Them dar dare bullets
they for real!
World of…
This is nothing more
then a poet’s meal.

Bang! Bang! Said the cop.
I shot you!
You’re dead!
Be quite!
and don’t make a move.
And just maybe,
if it’s God’s will,
we can play again
tomorrow.
But as for today
I must sit in prison.
And count the blessings
which I haven’t already spent.

My physical health
seems to be in tact.
Thank God!
Thank God!
Thank God!
For it isn’t guaranteed.

And my ability to reason
seems to be ok.
Thank God!
Thank God!
Thank God!
For it isn’t promised.

And my hope,
a hope abandoned by many,
to see that distant…
If God will!
If God will!
If God will!
I shall see
that distant tomorrow.

Thank God!
Thank God!
Thank God!
For today,
another day,
in prison.

P.S. No dandelions grow on prisons walls.

© 1995 Michael C. Teniente in California Department of Corrections: Corcoran