Guards.

 

           More poetry from His Majesty's Prisons. Taken from the book Chains of Hate, The Prison Poetry of Sammy Ralston, published by Random Factor, Edinburgh and distributed by Edinburgh Black Cross, 

 

 Who Guards The Guards.

Enquiries were held, everyone agreed
The prisoner was murdered - a terrible deed.
Three prison guards charged into his cell
A vicious onslaught, a defenceless man fell,
Kicked him and punched him, broke flesh and bone,
Left him there to die all alone.

Who Guards the guards? The question was cried.
Who guards the guards? But no-one replied.
Who guards the guards? His last dying breath.
Who guards the guards that beat him to death?

Court was assembled, culprits brought to book
Statements were given, the oath it was took -
But killers went free - no retribution,
'Not Guilty' verdicts - a legal execution.
They say justices is blind, that much is plain,
She would have wept to see what was done in her name.

Who guards the guards? the question was cried.
Who guards the guards? But no-one replied
Who guards the guards? His last dying breath.
Who guards the guards that beat him to death?

Hey mister screw! Help us understand
How your conscience justifies blood on your hands.
Do you still sleep at night, do your kids fear your touch?
Can you look into your wife's eyes, does it bother you much
That a prisoner's been murdered and no-one's to blame......?
Just clean up his blood......and score out his name.

Who guards the guards? his last dying breath.
 Who guards the guards the beat him to death? 

 

Visit ann arky's home at https://spiritofrevolt.info   

Chained.

 

       Again I show my enthusiasm for another magazine, another piece of paper we can spread around our streets, workplaces, pubs and clubs. This is an older one from a couple of years back, I may have posted this before, but here it is again. An Australian magazine of contributions, poems, prose and artworks from prisoners, their families and friends. The thoughts of those locked away in any state's repression cages and those friends and family outside, deserve to be heard. Perhaps then the public at large will have a better understanding of what it is like to be incarcerated in one of these state institutional hellholes, and maybe lend their support to seeing to the total abolition of these inhumane leftovers from a barbaric era in the dark history of us humans.

Paper Chained:

        The second issue of Paper Chained has been published online. This is a journal that supports publication of writings and artistic expressions from people affected by incarceration. Click here to download the PDF, and visit the blog of Running Wild here to read more.

The Silent Partner.

She waits patiently at home
with three kids in tow
her husband is in gaol
the children don’t know

the cupboards stand empty
there’s no food to eat
no warm clothes on their backs
no shoes on their feet

he sits alone in his cell
his tears fall in silence
he pens a letter to home
too long,is his sentence

an absent father forgotten
bad, sad thoughts fill her head
two leaking eyes, one broken heart
a cold, empty half-bed

soon it will all be over
the nightmare come to an end
the steel gates will swing open
the family be whole again.

First Time In

echos through the hollow halls
chief! sweeper! the anguished calls
from inmates in the holding cell
first time in, it feels like hell

time is relative, unimportant
change in perspective
outlook on life
eyes down, mouth shut
keep out of strife.
don’t look, sont’ see
don’t ask, don’t tell
don’t listen, don’t hear
each has his own story
each sheds a private tear

left alone with your thoughts
looks can’t kill, but
your maddening thoughts will
ruminating –not illuminating
no conversation –no communicationin
a single cell.

CONTRIBUTOR DETAILS David McGettiganIn prison on remand since March 2018

Visit ann arky's home at https://radicalglasgow.me.uk  

Silent When I Should Be Screaming.

      Paper Chained is a journal of writings and artistic expressions from individuals affected by incarceration. We are currently seeking contributions from prisoners, ex-prisoners and family members of prisoners for our first journal publication. Please circulate this callout throughout your networks.
       If you are currently in prison, have experienced time in prison or have a loved one in prison, we welcome your contributions to this journal! If you know somebody who might be interested in contributing, please pass this information on to them.
        Attached is an information sheet that can be printed and mailed to prisoners and a poster you are welcome to print and display in your neighbourhood, workplaces, schools and other community hubs.
        Details about the journal and how to send in contributions can be found at our website: Runningwild (anarchist collective)

PAPER CHAINED JOURNAL – INFO FOR CONTRIBUTORS (PDF)

       The full horror of conditions within the prison system is not widely known by the general public, nor is the reasoning behind how people end up there. Books like this can help to get the true picture across, and perhaps we can then turn these hell-hole cages of injustice and brutality into piles of rubble.

      The following poem is from another similar book, "Silent When I should Be Screaming" and was dedicated to those unfortunate women who committed suicide in Scotland's Corntonvale Prison for Women.

Choices.

there's a man

in my bed

who wants

to kill me

this is not paranoia

I know this because

he drags me naked

from my bed

kicks me in the kidneys

twists my flesh

drags me over 

broken glass

he's always saying

he's going to do it

especially if I ever leave

oh yes especially then

or if I have another man

he'll kill us both

I'm afraid most of the time

but more than that

I am numbed by his

ranting accusations

fuelled by drink

and the past

I never know

exactly what

I have done

that warrants all this

Jan Coleman.

     

     "Silent When I Should Be Screaming" was published by Smeddum Press, printed by Clydeside Press, 1997, ISBN 0 9523868 2 8 

Visit ann arky's home at www.radicalglasgow.me.uk

Wildfire.

    Across the globe the various states have their ways of trying to repress dissent, from standardised education systems to draconian laws, and dehumanising prison systems. No matter how vicious the system, dissent and resistance will persist and eventually prevail.

       Wildfire gives a voice to those at the sharp end of that state repression, here you can read personal accounts, poetry and letters from those that the state has set out to destroy. Issue 2 is now available for free download.

By Wildfire  -----  Download Issue No.2.

From Act For Freedom Now:

          The past months have seen a continuation of prison struggle in its many forms, as well as a blanket of repression from state forces against anarchist insurgency. As international attacks multiplied and the comrades remained steadfast, the Greek hunger strikers won many of their demands. At the same time, the Czech Republic unleashed Operation Phoenix in an effort to repress the struggle there, and the Spanish state continued its attacks against anarchists by initiating raids and arrests in Operation Piñata. Chilean comrades Nataly, Juan, Enrique, and Guillermo won many of their hunger strike demands; while elsewhere in Chile, the state continued its attacks on Tato and Javier, accused of burning a Transantiago bus. Sean Swain was held incommunicado for months and Marius Mason was thrown in solitary for a month. And just days ago, anarchist comrade Ignacio Muñoz Delgado was arrested in Chile by plainclothes cops, who say they found Ignacio with an explosive device and pamphlets expressing solidarity with comrades arrested for an arson attack on the Homicide Investigation Brigade. Hunger strikes from Greece to Chile to Alabama, widespread counter-attacks against repression, the ceaseless cadence of the anarchist war against power. We are disgusted by the state’s attempts to grind our comrades into dust, but we are strengthened by the beautiful flames of anarchy that cannot be contained by recuperation or prison walls.

          We are excited to share the writings in this second issue of Wildfire, for their diversity and their incisiveness. We print texts from comrades previously unknown to us and from those we have struggled alongside for years. We print introductions, poetry, updates, and the first steps in a debate on prison strikes and reformism. Since we refuse any ideology that flattens the polymorphous nature of anarchist thought and practice, we print these very different texts with joy at each of their particularities.

         We send our love to all anarchist combatants caught in the enemy’s dungeons!

CONTENTS
– “All Prisoners are Political” by Sean Swain
– “Remember the Dead, Solidarity for the Living” by Brandon Baxter
– A letter from Manuel Salas
– Call for support from Anarchist Black Cross – Florida Prison Chapter
– A letter from Todd Shepard
– Introduction by Christopher L. Young
– “From an Alabama Prison” by Fahamivu Amon
– An update from Gender Anarky
– A letter from Julia Wheelwright
– “Silent Scream” by Francisca Orellana Polanko
– “Buckin in the BOP” by anonymous
– “Federal Sentencing Reforms” by anonymous
– A letter from Michael Kimble
– “Chaotic Confinement” by Charles Chatman
– A Letter from Blacc Lion
– A chronology of the last four months of revolt, repression, and attack.
– “For Spyros Dravilas: Awaiting the Hour of Vengeance”

Visit ann arky's home at www.radicalglasgow.me.uk

Steel Doors Of Prison.

       Today's poem is from a book called Poetry Like Bread, the title is taken from a line of poetry, "poetry should be like bread, for everybody" this is also my sentiments. This particular poem is by Jimmy Santiago Baca, abandoned at 2 brought up by his Grandmother for a while and eventually put in an orphanage. He was part of the street gangs in New Mexico and ended up in Prison, where he taught himself to read and write and started to write poetry. As they say, the rest is history.

Steel Doors Of Prison.

The big compound gates close the world off,

Lock with a thunderous thud and clunk,

While bits of dust scatter into your lungs,

Breathing in the first stark glance

Of prison cellblocks behind the great wall,

Breathing in the emptiness, the darkness

As you walk with an easy step on the cold sidewalk.

Then another door locks behind you,

This door is your cell door. A set of bars,

Paint scraped, still as cobras in gray skins,

Wrapping around your heart little by little:

The ones you love cannot be touched,

Christmas, Easter, Valentine's Day, Mother's Day,

All seen from these bars, celebrated

With a deep labouring yearning from within,

While the cobras slowly wind and choke

Your mind, your heart, your spirit,

You hear nothing but the steel jaws close,

Slowly swallowing you.....

ann arky's home.