There Are Black
There are black guards slamming cell gates
on black men,
And brown guards saying hello to brown men
with numbers on their backs,
And white guards laughing with white cons,
and red guards, few, say nothing
to red inmates as they walk by to chow and cells.
There you have it, the little antpile . . .
convicts marching in straight lines, guards flying
on badged wings, permits to sting, to glut themselves
at the cost of secluding themselves from their people . .
Turning off their minds like watertaps
wrapped in gunnysacks that insulate the pipes
carrying the pale weak water to their hearts.
It gets bad when you see these same guards
carrying buckets of blood out of cells,
see them puking at the smell, the people,
their own people slashing their wrists,
hanging themselves with belts from light outlets;
it gets bad to see them clean up the mess,
carry the blue cold body out under sheets,
and then retake their places in guard cages,
watching their people maul and mangle themselves,
And over this blood-rutted land,
the sun shines, the guards talk of horses and guns,
go to the store and buy new boots,
and the longer they work here the more powerful they become,
taking on the presence of some ancient mummy,
down in the dungeons of prison, a mummy
that will not listen, but has a strange power
in this dark world, to be so utterly disgusting in ignorance,
and yet so proudly command so many men. . . .
And the convicts themselves, at the mummy’s
feet, blood-splattered leather, at this one’s feet,
they become cobras sucking life out of their brothers,
they fight for rings and money and drugs,
in this pit of pain their teeth bare fangs,
to fight for what morsels they can. . . .
And the other convicts, guilty
of nothing but their born color, guilty of being innocent,
they slowly turn to dust in the nightly winds here,
flying in the wind back to their farms and cities.
From the gash in their hearts, sand flies up spraying
over houses and through trees,
look at the sand blow over this deserted place,
you are looking at them.
poem by Jimmy Santiago Baca
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Related quotes
Guards! Seize Him!
Guards cease to wander where the hounds stay,
Yonder is peace for the entering marvels that may.
Guards cause innocence to object on evil,
Then seize that man or woman or child who is able!
Inside the door, inside the prison and cells,
Lies a more hopeful gate of magic and bells.
Beyond the common goal is another objective
That worries murder spraying blood - addictive.
Please lay off guards, for the murder to be done,
Munching morsels shunning us, and now abandon!
poem by Naveed Akram
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Why There's Three Chairs
The first question
You're asked
When you arrive is
What do you declare
It's not like customs
About what you are carrying
The guards have other ways
For checking for that
Without asking
The guards want to know
For your protection
And theirs
What race do you declare
What are your gang affiliations
Do you need protective custody
Your race decides a lot for you
Decides who they'll house you with
Determines when
You'll be locked down
Allowed on the Yard
If you need an escort
It all depends
On your answer
To that first question
Yes they'll get around
To asking you if you want to harm yourself
Or others
What meds you're on
Do you hear voices
But above all race matters
For your protection
To minimize the potential
Of fights in a two man cell
The guards try
To match you up
The best they can
With someone you can tolerate
Locked in a five by nine-foot cell
Twenty-two hours a day
Outside the cells
By the guards' station
You can see the three chairs
Behind each chair
Bolted to the wall
Is a locked metal box
They all contain identical
Hair-cutting supplies
Seperate but equal
The first box is painted black
The second box red
The third white
The contents and the corresponding
Barber chairs are for Blacks
Hispanics/Others and Whites
And only for Black
Hispanic/Other and White
Barbers
Make no mistakes
The inmates enforce the rules
The unwritten rules
poem by Tom J. Mariani
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Endless Dark
Softly the light shines in through
Gates of grace on me and you
Deceiving our restless hearts
A flickering flame so serene
It fires the night so we could see
Feeling alone so strong
And I know where I belong
Away from your guards
That heal our wounds in life
This endless dark
Endless dark
This endless dark
Lovely the light shines on you
Through the gates of fire entombed
Feeling on your own
Weak is the blaze that kept me away
From cruelty and tenderness embraced
Saving my soul no more
And I know where I belong
Away from your guards
That heal our wounds in life
This endless dark
Endless dark
This endless dark
I know where I belong
Away from you guards
That heal our wounds in life,
This endless dark
The shadow on you that tamed your burning heart
That buried my truth right into your arms
The words of the tomb of I fall on lone
That heal our wounds and light , this endless dark
That heal our wounds and light , this endless dark
That heal our wounds and light , this endless dark
That heal our wounds and light , this endless dark
song performed by by H.i.m. (his Infernal Majesty)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A good bookshop is just a genteel Black Hole that knows how to read.
Terry Pratchett in Guards! Guards!
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Then, all of a sudden, here I am in the Press Room in the White House and walking in with the guards, who handed me three little pieces of paper asking me to send pictures to the guards at the White House.
quote by Majel Barrett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If anyone has it rough at Guantanamo, it is the guards. They are constantly harassed and threatened by some of these terrorists. Prisoners tell guards, we know where your families are. We know where your wife is, your children, and we are going to kill them.
quote by Robin Hayes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Man guards himself
Man guards himself from animals.
Man made animals his servants.
Man guards himself from other men
By division of race, region and religion.
02.01.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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A stroll at Sea Point
I walk right into
the wind that blows softly,
for a meeting
with the dark blue ocean
that stretches out far
under the bright blue sky
and suddenly I know
that Sea Point had been
a prosperous neighbourhood
but now there are numbers of old folk,
children hanging around like hippies
with liquor, cigarettes and drugs
and car guards catching my eye
while seagulls screeching
with impudence grab
flabby chips from a man’s hand
and like screaming helicopters
hang above him
and he angrily
also throws his piece of fish into the air
and saying: “take that too.”
The sea stays pretty dark blue
and when I walk along
I smell the salt,
I hear the thundering crunch
of waves without end
breaking and spraying
and it feels if here I am really living.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Psalm XXXII: Happy the Man
Happy the man to whom his God
No more imputes his sin,
But, washed in the Redeemer's blood,
Hath made his garments clean.
Happy beyond expression he
Who debts are thus discharged;
And from the guilty bondage free,
He feels his soul enlarged.
His spirit hates deceit and lies,
His words are all sincere;
He guards his heart, he guards his eyes,
To keep his conscience clear.
While I my inward guilt suppressed,
No quiet could I find;
Thy wrath lay burning in my breast,
And racked my tortured mind.
Then I confessed my troubled thoughts,
My secret sins revealed;
Thy pard'ning grace forgave my faults,
Thy grace my pardon sealed.
This shall invite thy saints to pray;
When like a raging flood
Temptations rise, our strength and stay
Is a forgiving God.
poem by Isaac Watts
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White sparrow
white sparrow you see me standing
you could kill me without landing
your wing is just as long as a man
you are as cold as a snowy day
you have come here from heaven
you must of as you fight my devil's
your feathers turn slowly black with my sin
and yet you stay beautiful as always
my sin is like a ciggerate it will turn you black inside
but you cannot die as you are one in your own
you came from heaven so your holy arent you
god sent you for me so you must do what you must do
my heart was never red nor white but black
i was born with my sin and also that of my kin
but white sparrow you have taken that from me
and now you are dying you turned black whilst i change to white
oh my lord what a sight it must be to see
a boy like me clean of all carrying a bird of sin
i am carrying you white sparrow your heart is no longer cold
and your body no longer white nor wings large
but white sparrow you will not die, no you will not
for you white sparrow you came from heaven for me
when i picked my child's name people laughed you did not
you looked at my child in his cot and nodded now you cant
for white sparrow you dont belong with me not anymore
your must leave for heaven and recover to help others
so farewell white sparrow il missy you my saviour
now go to that sin filled woman and help her
for white sparrow i will look for you as you continue
for white sparrow i will see you in heaven....goodbye
poem by Daniel Laurence
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Our surest protection against assault from abroad has been not all our guards, gates and guns, or even our two oceans, but our essential goodness as a people. Our richest asset has been not our material wealth but our values.
quote by Theodore C. Sorensen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The walls, the bars, the guns and the guards can never encircle or hold down the idea of the people.
quote by Huey Newton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Oh mummy don't
At night my eyes cry
Oh mummy don't your making me die
At night my nose turns cold and red
Oh mummy don't hit me on the leg
At night my lips get chapped and cut
Oh mummy dont squeeze my gut
At night my head hurts
Oh mummy don't whip me with your leather skirt
At night my body shivers
Oh mummy don't you'll scare my teddy quivers
At night my heart stopped beating
Oh mummy please stop repeating
At night I pray I were dead
Oh mummy don't cant you see the tears I shed
At night I know my life is mean and dark
Oh mummy don't the scares turn into question marks
At night I weep to myself quietly
On mummy don't you're frightning me
At night I have learned dirty words
Oh mummy don't please say this in nice words
At night I pick up the knife
Oh mummy I am ready to take my life
This poem I have written is just to tell the world out there that kids DO NOT deserve
this kind of life, so if you ever do see something like this going on why don't you do something
about it. In this world 50% kids die because of child abuse, So don't leave it if you see it
do something about it and save a life.
poem by Sumiya Khan
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Barefoot In The Sand
Barefoot in the Sand
The beach, I used to walk here often years ago with
my dog- the dog is now dead and it is against the law
for animals to be on beaches- except for seabirds,
only because it isn’t practical to ban them, looks clean
and raked most of it is fenced in and belong to some
hotels. The bathing season hasn’t started I ignore signs
telling me I shouldn’t be here, ignore too a spy camera
mounted on a concrete pole. Ok, I’m too old to make
love in the sand, but I feel sorry for people who can
but are spied on and arrested for enjoying themselves.
Where sea washes sand it is easy to walk I turn and see
my footsteps erased by lazy ripples, it is like I never was
here, and I miss my dog. I will not be back here again
before the fall when the season is over, perhaps by then
there will be barbed wire and armed guards to stop me
seeing the sea I used to know so well.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Changing Of The Guard
It’s hard
For a young upstart to compete with the old guard
For the old guard guards the old ways of doing business
With old business partners who also make it hard
For the young upstart
For they guard the old ways of guarding the business
From the brash and rash and flash of upstarts
But the old guard was also young at some age
Back when they fought the old guards of their days
And they too were young upstarts looking for change
Things for them seemed just as hard
And they placed each bet on each losing card
But before they knew it they were playing the old games
With the young upstarts who were looking for change
poem by P.R. Prosper
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Most people who work at home find they do not have the benefit of receptionists who serve as personal guards.
quote by Judith Martin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Conditional Sanctuary
You may take some comfort here behind my hedge,
But, if you do, I must insist you rarely speak. I do
Not want to hear of what you bought today when
You were shopping, or of the disgusting products,
Churned out on assembly lines, which you decided
You should eat. I do not want to talk about
Celebrities or any of the vile doings of the faceless
Frauds who buzz in legislatures, pulled along by,
As they're pushing on the strings of our colossus,
Run amok from sea to sea. I do not want my peace
Disturbed. If you should speak, then note the
Silence of my guards, the arching trees, and say
You now can hear the birds, whose calls don't
Carry very far, and say you're fine with sitting,
Watching wind upon the grain below, and
Shadows slowly growing longer. Say, in short,
You understand why almost no one is invited
Here behind my hedge.
poem by Lawrence Beck
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This Doesnt Have To Be Love
Softly, love is standing here with its demands
(tell me what you want from me, you want from me)
Slowly, I think Im letting go of all my plans
(tell me where were goin to, were goin to)
Why, why am I afraid to give into this
Why am I afraid?
Chorus:
This doesnt have to be love
But its all I can feel, its all that I fear.
This doesnt have to be anything at all,
So hard to fall (from this high above)
But do we have to call it love?
I hold back, from everything I really want to say
(should I let my guards down, my guards down, my guards down)
I dont, I dont make commitments that could break
(maybe its just too late, its just too late)
I, Im so afraid to give into this
Im so afraid, oh
(chorus)
Need a little time to think things through, baby
Do I really want to give myself, give all myself to you, now?
I cant believe its happening so fast
cause I dont want to bring back what I left in the past, no.
(chorus)
So hard to fall...in love
This doesnt have to be...love
(love, love is all I feel...your love is what I fear)
Love me...love me
So hard to fall
So very hard to fall.
Fade
song performed by by Wilson Phillips
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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School is a prison...
The classroom is…
A jail cell
There halls leading
To each cell
The school food is
taste like prison food
In the cafeteria there
are long lines for food
The principle runs
the school
The warden runs
the prison
They have guards
telling inmates what to do
We have teachers
telling students what to do
The inmates are
the students
Were all serving
A 12 year sentence
School is just a prison for students
poem by Kitty In Love
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