Humanrights Server * America Page * American Indian Page * mail

Getting burnt

Someone open the door
Someone turn on the light
Someone tell them, I implore...

It seems that no one can see, except...
The eye of the needle

I try to show no pain
I can't say who's to blame
But as I sit, I can feel the flame

This flame scorching my soul, my mind...
Because I know...

I'm the one...
I'm the one...

I'm the one...
Who's getting burnt.

(Yolo County jail, 1979)
---------------------------------------------

Train Ride

Riding this train
Trying to feel no pain

Maybe I'll just go insane
Who the hell shut the door?
Is the question I implore
Sitting there in the dark
When I otta be in the park

I feel this train moving
Yes, moving on down the track
Is there a way back... home?

Home is where I long to be
Why is this all happening to me?
Will I make my escape?
At the peak of this wake

The two lives I did not take
To speak up I did not quake
I remained silent... and now...
My life is crushed and spent

Riding this train on down the track
An I now I cannot get back...
The years of my life which I've lost
On this Track...

(Death Row, San Quentin Sate Prison - 1981)

-------------------------------------------

Trapped

As I sit here
In this man made cage
Of concrete and steel
I procrastinate what is real...

I examine my thoughts
As they wander through the stars
I study my heart
I feel all the scars...

I lay myself down
I put my head on the pillow
I can feel the wind blow
I can see the willow...

Through the turnoil and riot
My heart can be quiet
As I retire into the tranquility
Of my mind...

(Death Row, San Quentin State Prison - 1984)

--------------------------------------------------

Perhaps, perhaps not

Gazing out of my tiny window,
To that isolated distant star...
High above the forest hilltops,
Shining so bright, so all alone, so far...
Floating off on long lost memories,
Of exiting and beautiful days gone by...
Looking for travelers from distant planets...
Another nignt of sad loneliness...
Another night in this cell...
This dark lonely hell.
Reflecting on my endless sacrifice...
Every moment filled with such intenseness...
The years of my life melting away
Like ice cream on a hot summer day...
This is why I live to struggle and fight,
Each day and long, lonely night...
For progress, for truth, for what is right.
My freedom perhaps just fading away...
Someone elses debt I must pay...
Perhaps someday it will make a difference...
Perhaps some day I will be free...
Perhaps someday there will be true justice... perhaps not.
They try to assassinate me, periodically...
With each scheme so dastardly...
Each day, each step of the way...
Like an elaborate play,
They script it out intricately,
Trying to do away with me...
Every move I make,
Whatever I have, they take.
They strain to twist and turn me inside out,
A perilous existence without a doubt.
It amazes me that I'm still alive,
That I survive...
The creater has cleared me a path,
Through this despicable labyrinth...
A cause he has given me as a destiny...
To strive for peace, equality and harmony...
For all humanity...
Today I'm alive...
Perhaps tomorrow, again I will survive...
Perhaps not...

(Pelican Bay State Prison - 1996)

Humanrights Server * America Page * American Indian Page * mail