poem about the prison industrail complex

[bree]

Prison Industrial Complex


High density solutions to wide spread problems
lives lived for irrelevance
born into circumstance
the world is rough and
people are difficult enough to deal with,
but separated by space and air and land and barbed wire and iron bars
and 15 minute phone calls that are interrupted every three minutes
so some automated voice can tell you you're talking to an inmate,
just to remind you constantly who has the power
(and that it isn't you);
to be torn apart by rejected letters
because you didn't read the regulations close enough,
to have your visits cut short because the metal detector went off arbitrarily
and the guards took their time searching you;
to reach across this void of space and pain and distance
and time
jesus, especially time
that drips off clocks
like spit from the mouth of rabid dogs-
to carry all this on human shoulders
seems like it should be outlawed by the constitution,
seems beyond cruel and unusual punishment,
and yet so familiar
as two million
become 50 million
become all of us,
marked by 13th amendment loopholes
slavery...bondage...forced servitude...outlawed...
except in the case of punishment
and you ask yourself every day,
"god, what the hell did i do to deserve this,
what the hell am i being punished for?"
but the only answer comes through the phone line
to rip through the brief glimmer of once a week human contact
allowed to seep through prison walls:
"this call will be terminated in two minutes"
on televisions,
screaming blood and fear
and pat answers,
on legislative floors and ballot boxes,
honest good upright citizens
cast their vote for bigger and badder and toughers
o they can sleep at night,
so they can close their eyes
and avoid seeing their own children's eyes
from behind locked bars.
so they can forget
so we can forget
the historical race fears
clawing at throats along with
clutched purses and whispered prayers,
scared of our own skin sometimes
skinned of history
skimmed off of history
and beaten into the flesh of capital
where flesh becomes the capital on wall street stock markets
and we are sweated out of ghettoes
to pool on street corners
and finally bleed into prison yards
gathering like angry nimbus clouds
waiting for the thunder to roar
july 4, 2000
the revolutionary war fought again
this time the rebels weren't wearing colonial hats
but blue denim stamped with
"property of the u.s."
stamped with a number,
replacing names and histories and baby pictures and grade school reportcards
and hidden puffs on joints after school and first girlfriends and dreams ofcollege
or dreams of faraway cities or dreams of a family some day
stamping out any dreams at all,
except those hidden in rebellion, buried under bunks and inside dirty toilets,
out of the reach of screaming guards and steel bars that refract and suck up light,
glittering the way black eyes glitter when the setting sun hits them.
july 4, 2000was supposedly a day to rescue freedom
from the dug out where it had been sent after it's three strikes and
you're outlaws permanently retired it from the game
a day to ask"
why is it easier to destroy than build"
a day to say
lend me the tongue
so that i may speak my tale
lend me some air
so that i might breath without the stench of death everywhere
clogging my lungs
without the smell of dreams dying all around me,
so that i can have a little dignity
a little peace while doing my time
the cry was not even
get me the hell out of here,
it was
please,give me some space,
let me wear my face without contorting it to conform to lines of anger and hate
let me not to have to wear someone else's dirty underwear
and not have to eat food with mold growing on it
let me touch my child's face, without having to look at them behind glass,
because shatter proof glass twists the faces of family into strangers
and it mutates my face into a mask of rage
and when that happens...
ATTICAATTICAATTICA
july 4, 2000to resurrect images of hatian slave revolts
and maroons skulking through the jungles
metamorphisized into
prisons blues
skulking through sweatshops
encased in steel
supplanted in amerika's heart/land
and hell no, not in our backyard
became
what kind of tax breaks do you need to speed up construction,
as all-amerikan highschool quarterbacks
married the prom queen, settled down to live the dream
and realized
the dream had been revised rewritten and correction fluid soaked the pages and their faces
and he became the correctional fluid
lubricating the hulking machinery of
the just-us system
and what seems like job opportunity
is a doorway to insanity
cause a man does carry his workload
back home
and the pressure of being cruel enough
bad enough, mad enough
doesn't stay at the jail when he clocks out.
wives and children that get out of line have to be corrected
and corrections has nothing to do with kind words
and red pens scrawling notes in the margins
brutality is the quick fix methodology
and he's been trained to hit where it counts
keeping folks submissive is part of his job description
and families are held captive
by violence unfettered and unconfined by razor wire,
flying high to come home to roost
on declining crime statistics and rocketing prison populations
populated by dark black brown poor faces,
faces too dark to see the features anymore
so now crime has no face
and who's the man behind the curtain,
who are the men behind the robes and law books
and media soundbites that bite us in the ass daily,
who's behind those prison blues and prison grays,
the guard and the prisoner both trapped in uniformed convictions,
sentenced by a jury whose faces are always hidden,
but the verdict is always the same...
guilty.

-By Walidah Imarisha (Bad Sista)

[thesoulsedge]

niggaz be on lock down
fathers don't be around
gang sets gettin' clowned
by jack-booted thugs
black children need hugs
no a crack pipe smokin' drugs
rollin' weed in a zig-zag
sold my baby for a dime bag
sent to jail became a fag-hag
cops nag cause my pants sag
let insane crip gang reign
no death penalty i plead insane
doin' time off that dope game
life on lock down in not the same

[worldwide]

THREE CHEERS FOR MY PEERS THATS BEEN LOCKED UP FOR YEARS, THEY SHEDDING TEARS BUT DONT CRY AND LET ME STRESS THIS REASON WHY, I KNOW IT'S LIVIN HELL BEING LOCKED UP IN A CELL YOU STRESSIN WHEN YOU GONNA GET OUT BUT ONLY TIME WILL TELL, SO FOLLOW ME AS I TAKE YOU DOWN THIS LONG ROAD OF DARKNESS,
IN THE LAND OF THE LOST WHERE REHABILITATION MAKES YA HEARTLESS, SOME OF THEM GUY'S THEY GET DESPISED AND CLOSE THEY EYE'S TO REALITY, AND END UP GETTIN HUNG UP IN THEM CELL'S
WE CALL'EM CASUALTIES, THE DIFERRENT ROUTE'S TO GO, LITTLE DID HE KNOW HE SHOULDA KEPT HIS HEAD UP, HE ONLY HAD A YEAR TO GO
EVEN THEM HOES WILL HAVE YOU TWISTED UP IN THIS GAME THEY F#$*KIN NI99A AFTER NI99A STEADY CLAIMIN YO NAME, NOW THAT'S A SHAME, BUT REMAIN'S TO BE THE WAY THANG'S GOES THEY TOLD YA FREEZE YOU THINKIN THAT NOW YA SHOULDNA FROZE NOW I SUPPOSE BY NOW LIFE'S TREATIN YA REAL MESSED UP, SO AS THEM GATES CLOSE KEEP YA HEAD UP WHILE YA LOCKED UP!!!
LORD, THIS CRIP LIFE IS CRAZY , SOME THINGS THAT I DONE SEEN IN THIS LAND, FROM BALLERS GETTIN SMOKED OUT TO FRIENDS SHOOTIN
FRIENDS, AND EVEN THEN, I WITTNESS THANGS SOME JUST COULDNT STOMACH, LIKE NI99AS GETTIN SHANKED UP, UP IN 9500
ONE OF MY HOMIES, GOT CAUGHT UP NOW HE GOT LIFE IN THE PEN, HE
SHOT THIS NI99A IN THE D!#k BECAUSE HE SPENT ALL HIS ENDS
REALITIES OF SPENDIN YA LIFE UP IN the PEN AINT NO JOKE, DRIVES YOU
INSANE, BUT JOURNEY INTO THE MIND OF A LOC, THEY THREW THE BOOK, AND WHEN THEY THREW THE BOOK THE BOOK HIT HARD, LIKE DYNAMITE, BLEW'EM UP AND NOW HIS LIFE'S ON THE YARD, SEND MY REGARD
IT'S TUFF BEING STUCK IN A CAGE, I NOW IT'S HARD, RUNNIN RAPID LIKE A SAVAGE IN RAGE, BUT IN YA MIND, TO the THIRD EYE HEED THE
WORDS THAT I SAY, MAN DONT GIVE UP TOMMOROW JUST MIGHT BRING BETTER DAYS. AND ANYWAY, EVERYDAY IF YOU IN THERE PUTTIN IT DOWN HOMIE DONT SWEAT, YOUR RESPECT WILL BRING YOU MANY OF SMILES!

GOD BLESS, STAY DOWN, AND LET YA PRAYERS GO UP, CAUSE THIS FOR
MY HOMIES, LOCKED UP!!!

[wcrockets]

I was taught never put trust in a young man,
Cause if you let him live then he'll try to take your stand,
Take command of the whole show but know it's not fun livin on death row,
I crucify my flesh daily cause if I don't then my flesh will crucify me,
Or slay me like a wrong guide so my intention is homicide,
I'm the third degree and that's the word for me,
I pull the plug on my flesh's cardiac emergency,
You might think it's cold Jake but if I don't kill my flesh then my flesh is gonna kill me,
So i just kill and kill and kill again cause unless I put my flesh in the hearst it's a sin,
If you want to lock me up go ahead cause everyday is an everyday death sentence,

Everyday everyday everyday death sentence

Murder one in the morning when I wake up shake up I pray and break up any plan to double the makeup,
Jailed for murder one homicide killed someone yeah I killed my false pride,
A cell's no joke when it's for eternity and one day you'll wake and find yourself a zombie,
Walk the walk talk the talk know only a miracle can bring you back to life then on the real,
See your flesh is a terminator you kill him once and he's back to cause some more drama,
Like when you thought he was in the dust he stabbed you in my back with a knife full of lust,
So you let two fly 1 corinitihans 6:18 and Proverbs 5:5,
Made sure you took him out and when he bailed you gouged his eyes out,
Cut out his tonge with james 3:1, every chapter every verse you fought back his lies,
And if you see him do it again and again cause it's an every day death sentence,

Everyday everyday everyday death sentence

My spirit man is alive but for my spirit to live my flesh has to die,
Cause it would be a straight up conflict my spirit wants to do right but my flesh wants to trip out,
And get in the mix for the next deal and trip dangerous as it is,
And in the joint there's no forgiveness it'll cast a net and ensare you with wickedness,
Then in the clique it's on until you're dead or grace let's you see you've grown tired of sin,
But like a jealous soldier idolatry and immorality will hold you down within,
And since the wages of sin equals death you have to fight,
So hit that flesh again and again with everything in sight,
And the next lie played on you make him pay for trying to sin on you,
Don't trip on me cause those within know it's an everyday death sentence

Everyday everyday everyday death sentence

[THALOCPASADENA]

I was taught never put trust in a young man,
Cause if you let him live then he'll try to take your stand,
Take command of the whole show but know it's not fun livin on death row,
I crucify my flesh daily cause if I don't then my flesh will crucify me,
Or slay me like a wrong guide so my intention is homicide,
I'm the third degree and that's the word for me,
I pull the plug on my flesh's cardiac emergency,
You might think it's cold Jake but if I don't kill my flesh then my flesh is gonna kill me,
So i just kill and kill and kill again cause unless I put my flesh in the hearst it's a sin,
If you want to lock me up go ahead cause everyday is an everyday death sentence,

Everyday everyday everyday death sentence

Murder one in the morning when I wake up shake up I pray and break up any plan to double the makeup,
Jailed for murder one homicide killed someone yeah I killed my false pride,
A cell's no joke when it's for eternity and one day you'll wake and find yourself a zombie,
Walk the walk talk the talk know only a miracle can bring you back to life then on the real,
See your flesh is a terminator you kill him once and he's back to cause some more drama,
Like when you thought he was in the dust he stabbed you in my back with a knife full of lust,
So you let two fly 1 corinitihans 6:18 and Proverbs 5:5,
Made sure you took him out and when he bailed you gouged his eyes out,
Cut out his tonge with james 3:1, every chapter every verse you fought back his lies,
And if you see him do it again and again cause it's an every day death sentence,

Everyday everyday everyday death sentence

My spirit man is alive but for my spirit to live my flesh has to die,
Cause it would be a straight up conflict my spirit wants to do right but my flesh wants to trip out,
And get in the mix for the next deal and trip dangerous as it is,
And in the joint there's no forgiveness it'll cast a net and ensare you with wickedness,
Then in the clique it's on until you're dead or grace let's you see you've grown tired of sin,
But like a jealous soldier idolatry and immorality will hold you down within,
And since the wages of sin equals death you have to fight,
So hit that flesh again and again with everything in sight,
And the next lie played on you make him pay for trying to sin on you,
Don't trip on me cause those within know it's an everyday death sentence

Everyday everyday everyday death sentence

THATS WAS HARD LOC
RAYMOND OUT!!!