Written in solidarity with the prisoners of Malawi who’s voices carry their stories beyond the walls that imprison them. I heard the Malawi birds they were bundled and stacked buried so deep but their voices reach so high does their location negate the warmth of their tears we can learn so much from suffering how long…
Tag: prison poetry
“About Capitalism” a poem by Eric King
These walls silent as the dark & lost haunting as a ghost these walls will fucking crush us all if we ever give up hope these walls steal inches by the hour pressing down & smashing joy these walls will gladly break us all if we ever give them the power these walls snap shots…
“I refuse to make a habit” a poem by Eric King
I refuse to make a habit of being oppressed or oppressive to wear chains and pretend they’re bracelets nothing orange is stylish these meals aren’t gifts and these captors aren’t our pals don’t give a fuck how their day is or if they’re breathing that pepper spray isn’t cologne these beatings aren’t for show the…
Untitled poem by Eric King
Living in open caskets breaking down into fractions if we’re animals are these our zoos? if god loves us are jails the pews? asleep but i’m awaken hunger strikes me the earth is shaken time is my only consumption living in broken societies breaking down into surrogate families i’m hungry for anything
“A poem about being institutionalized” by Eric King
art found here http://apiedimonte.deviantart.com/art/Jail-cell-1of-2-39677420 There’s no more bridges roses, flowers or gardens mutual friendship is foreign a dream like a soft mattress territorial beast w/out their homes no take out, just shake downs felt to be disowned only madness to look forward to calender days an abstract time away by the time they’ve parted the…
“We Forget” a poem by Eric King
Hometown heroes forget we exist within morality the person shooting up was once someone’s everything cuddly kids call the president a primate, cause they hate his pigment not racist if it’s politics just more social biggots one pump of blood away from being a fleeting memory once pump and pull away from an unwanted family…
A poem about freedom by Eric King
One day the water that feeds the grass Will wash away the stain of captivity off me The clouds will open their arms in a Warm embrace Years of hurt and abstract existence will be wiped clean I can’t smell freedom but one day we all might Days can’t be bought on the free market…