The Prison Poem

My soul longs
to say something
original.
Beyond the realm
of my very own subconscious.

Is that at all possible?
Seeing that I’m subjected
to the experiences of my past,
embedded as sand is into cement,
into the inner-most personal parts of my person.

Therefore, such emotions,
such as love, hate, anger and peace
have no conclusion.
And being present
only adds to my confusion,
which has caused me to be imprisoned
within the boundaries
of my very own house.

........SILENCE!..........
Can you hear
the heartbeat of my life?
Like the clock upon the wall,
never ending
or so it seems
never ending.

And if it should start to rain
upon my roof
could my house withstand anther storm?

Oh, how my soul longs
to say something
original.

Love!
It has been abused,
therefore, it has a need
for new meaning.

Hatred!
It has been possessed and
has given birth to…
to, too much pain.

And what is anger?
As subtle as it may be,
but a reflection
in the mirror,
if you choose to look.

Oh, if by my speech
I could learn
to hold that which escapes…
Peace!

Oh, how my soul longs
to say something
original.

I say…
You must be born-again.

© 1991 Michael C. Teniente in Calfornia Department of Corrections: Chino