Monthly Archives: June 2019

Freedom or Free

By: Charles Anthony Paschal Jr.
gdc#1031292
Freedom, money, and death are the 2 divisors when it comes to most of humankind!
Freedom is one of the biggest divisors because when it comes to the unspelled word “freedom” a lot of individuals go to testifying!
A lot of individuals go to testifying about speculations confirming what others thought!
Then when it comes to African Americans the emancipation of proclamation supposedly freed us even though we’re still getting sold and brought!
Even with the National anthem stating, “home of the brave and land of the free” its all types of races serving sentences in the federal and state penitentiary! Nonetheless, the National anthem never states in depth the meaning of the land of the free!
In which, for those individuals that acknowledge is the truth that prisoners are slaves in the land of the free!
Its just this go around most prisoners/slaves don’t have unity!
Due to most prisoners/slaves not having unity the characteristics of R.I.P. Fredrick Douglass, R.I.P. Harriet Tubman, and Assata Shakur don’t exist no more!
Also due to most prisoners/slaves not having unity with numbers of 20 to 1 in the home of the brave we’re daily and nightly losing in war!
We as in prisoners/slaves are in such a state of defeated that even though we’re in genocide on some plantations women are telling us when to eat and go to sleep!
Even with crocs, tennis shoes, or boots on the corruption from this dirt still gets on everyone’s feet!
Being the dirt of corruption for survival gets on everyone’s feet wisdom, knowledge and understanding aids and assists us because even on land we’re liable to become the great white sharks of the judicial system’s meat!
Its a sad reality consisting of individuals on both sides of the fence not knowing who they are and think and function how they’re taught to; so therefore, its plenty of individuals serving in state and federal plantations until their dying day or dying night tormented by the words “freedom or free!”.

“Fuck All da Drip and da Money”

Jamal Lundy
Feb 22, 2019
From tha $treet$
2 da chain gang
2 tiny 2 trap da mind$
Da bodys only. Da mind is sky high.
Look up every day and say bless da sky with ya heads high. My brotha$.
2 free tha mind is the limits of da sky. It’s bigger than this earth. Out dis world!
Look up high brothas and sistas in these set traps of prison even da c-o-s who help save lives of inmates cause this set trap could be only a burnin fire.
Look! 2! Da! Sky! With my head 2 da sky there is no down no upper no more.
It’s up so don’t stay up 2 my whoas dats part of it.
Look up high on this day of time and feel da bleedin of our season.
And! Say! Stop! Da! Killin!
And start a new drip 2 da kids all over da world.
Atl. Chi-Town. New Orleans. MDA. Cali. NY.
East. West. North. South.
(Help some one b4 ya hurt dem)

Fences

People who run prisons know they intend to do us harm. The proof? They put fences around these places before we ever get here. The reason they put the fences up is, they know they intend to harm us, and they know that any reasonable person would try to run away. They aren’t “helping” us or making us “better” people. They’re hurting us. They’re making us less likely to succeed. And they know it. So that means people who run prisons know they are making future crime more likely, not less. They know they are creating future crime, future victims, future imprisonment, future losses for society all the way around. If they were helping us, if they believed they were helping us, they wouldn’t put the fences up. They wouldn’t need fences. If they offered us wisdom and skills and empowerment, we’d all stay violently. There would be no need for a fence. You don’t put fences around a pizza party. You put fences around a torture factory.
They know how to help us. They could help us and empower us if they wanted to. People go into basic training in the military and leave there after 8 weeks, instilled with a whole new way of living, a whole new sense of themselves, a whole new vision and set of skills. Our sentences are longer than eight weeks. We leave prison without all that wonderful stuff that only takes eight weeks. They would help us if they really wanted to apply the science of that they know. They don’t want to. They want things the way they are. They profit off of human suffering. If they are protecting the public from us, who protects the public from them? Maybe the responsibility falls to us to take them down. There’s that fence. We’re locked in here with them. We might as well do something to change the world. We outnumber them. ~Anarchist Prisoner Sean Swain 

What I Know

I know how cold steel feels when the handcuffs are so tight you loose all feeling in your hands
I know how it feels to have no friends, to be surrounded by prisoners who will pretend
I know how it feels to have a pigs boot in your back, to write letters and never get non back
I know how it feels to be hungry at night, because the shit they feeding us just isn’t right
I know how it feels to be locked in a cell 24-7 for years at a time, how it feels to need love but in this place there’s never none around
I know how it feels to want to kill the oppressor, but these doors are their protectors
I know how it feels to be abandoned and neglected, to be dehumanized and disrespected to be reactionary and reckless
I know how to tell the time by the sounds around me, the screeching of the wheels on the food cart means its time to eat, the jingle of the keys means the pigs are trying to creep
I know how it feels to wait on mail call all day and when its time the pig passes you right by, and you tell yourself you’ll get some next time, but you know that’s a lie
But I don’t know how my daughters voice sounds, I’ve been deprived of my phone calls for years at a time
I don’t know how a hug feels, because I’m confined or the color of my mama’s eyes because I’ve been gone for a long time
I don’t know the name of my sister’s kids, we lost contact a long time ago, nor do I know if my brother is back in prison, my mom dont write to tell me so
I don’t know how freedom feels cause I have none, nor do I know my father so I’m a bastard just like my son
I don’t know what’s right when all I’m surrounded by is wrong or what family is when all mine are gone
I don’t know the smell of spring when the foul smell of solitary confinement is all I smell, I don’t know if there is a heaven but I know there is a hell. Because I live there. 
Dare to Struggle Dare To Win
Shine White