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Congratulations to Allan Jennings HMP Altcourse - who wins our £25 prize for ‘Star Poem of the Month’.
Mark Gerrard - HMP Risley Here I am locked up for life Buts it’s not the way it seems Remaining free could kill me dead The streets could end my dreams
Lady B
Allan Jennings - HMP Altcourse I can see it in your eyes When you come creeping in You’ve done something you promised us You’d never do again You think that we won’t know it You think that we can’t tell But you forget how many times You’ve put us through this hell The deceit is never ending, the betrayal, silly lies How can you even sit there? And look at us in the eyes We’ve cried so many tears And felt so alone You sit right beside us, but really you’re not home The drugs have taken over you Eating up your soul It made your heart so ugly Black like a piece of coal We try to give you love We beg you to love us more than it But we’re not good enough The burden is so heavy We cannot tell our friends We pray to God to help you We pray someday it ends Please God hear us praying Please Gold help him soon He has two little children Who think he hung the moon They are 7 years old And we think it would be sad If kids as great as them Had to grow up without a dad But their daddy is slowly dying Killing himself without a care We wish that he would understand That this just isn’t fair We have no happiness no more Its killing us as well We always fight, we never laugh We only scream and yell This is our lives you’re tearing apart; it’s not a funny game It’s destroying your family, killing our love Because you love heroin
2 My Mind T Goodall - HMP Bullingdon ................. 4 A False Promise Martin Punton - HMP Acklington ............ 6 Choices, Crime Can’t Be One Courtney Savary - Cookham Wood .........
Locked Up For Freedom
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Each passing day of freedom Is another to survive? The life I lead is killing me Just to stay alive Every purchase for brown or white Is bringing death my way Will I still be in here in June? Will my lungs pack up in May? I need to change to stop and think And sort this madness out To stop myself from killing me It’s not what life’s about
Waiting
So now I sit and question this And try to work out why I give my cash for chemicals That are causing me to die
I’m sitting here just waiting for the day when you are free
So now I know what I should do I need a brand new me Only one way out of this Let prison set me free
George Galloway - HMP Frankland I’m sitting here and dreaming of the way our life will be We’ll find a lovely little house, with a garden, by a stream We’ll make it warm and cosy; our home will be our dream We’ll sit beside our real log fire when it’s cold and wet outdoors Cuddled up on comfy sofas, with soft rugs upon the floors We’ll cook each other lovely meals, have a glass of wine or two And watch a film by candlelight, no one else just me and you We’ll spend time in our garden, grow veg and fruit and flowers We’ll cut the hedge and mow the lawn to while away the hours We’ll go for walks out in the sun and walk until its set Or go out in the summer rain and laugh when we get wet We’ll walk for hours along the beach walking hand in hand We’ll paddle barefoot in the sea and write things in the sand We’ll walk up the hills, down country lanes and stay out ‘til its dark We’ll walk by streams, and rivers, or feed ducks down in the park And if we pass a country pub, we can pop in for a drink Or maybe food if you prefer, sounds lovely, don’t you think? Then when we go back to our home we’ll relax in a hot bath And chat about the day we’ve had and make each other laugh Finally when we go to bed, we’ll hold each other tight Kiss each other tenderly and make love through the night And when the night is over, and I’ve held you all night long We’ll wake up side by side, and know that’s where we belong But darling ‘til the day you’re free our dreams will have to do Just remember that I’m always here and waiting just for you
Keys: My Bane!
Shane Bomyer - HMP Gloucester I hate keys! I love trees and bees And warm summer breeze But no more keys, please! I really hate keys! I love yoghurt and cheese And a soup made of peas But please lay off the keys! Keyaphobia: an irrational hatred of keys! I also hate fleas and political sleaze Women that tease and knobbly knees But most of all, I hate keys!
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insidetime
a voice for prisoners since 1990 the national newspaper for prisoners published by Inside Time Limited, a wholly owned subsidiary of New Bridge, a charity founded in 1956 to create links between the offender and the community. A ‘not for profit’ publication Registered Office: 27a Medway Street, London SW1P 2BD
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Window
Ian Armstrong Hutchinson HMP The Mount I look out of the window And there is nothing to see No trees, no grass, no birds I look out of the window At the dark grey surroundings The only sound I can hear are words
If you would like to contribute to the Poetry section, please send your poems to ‘Poetry’, Inside Time, Botley Mills, Botley, Southampton, Hampshire SO30 2GB.
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Congratulations to Courtney Savary - HMP/YOI Cookham Wood - whose poem wins our £15 prize for ‘Supplement Runner Up’.
Choices, Crime Can’t Be One Courtney Savary - HMP/YOI Cookham Wood Thinking of the pain It’s hard to live slay or be slain As I struggle behind bars Counting the days within the stars A mountain I say blocking my path A fountain of rage that’s stopping my heart I’m looking at my mum and I hear her pain She don’t want to see her youngest son in prison again I need to stop playing with life like it’s a video game Mum you raised me better than this, I’m sorry I feel stupid I regret that’s what they all say I’m saying I should never done robbery She used to say nothing is impossible what’s stopping me I think to myself yeah what’s stopping me then The Gov says the locked door obviously But I refuse to give up, I have chances if I live life properly But there will always be doubts its 50/50 honestly Right now I feel dumb I’ve got years to do how many have I done That’s a stupid question absolutely none That’s really bad that means I got 5 to come But this experience should help me to never offend So I thank the judge
Too Much Too Young
I look out of the window And each hour is the same Each day that goes past doesn’t change I look out of the window With unseen shadows and life Metal fences, razor wire and mange
J Garrett - HMP Camphill
I look out of the window And the thoughts in my head Negative and positive hope I look out of the window And there are trees and grass, birds and laughter But my mind is only playing a joke I look out of the window And I smell the air But it is dirty with sadness and regret I look out of the window And I hate my surroundings And I dislike most the people I have met I look out of the window And I see a reflection of loneliness staring at me With tears in his eyes and a smile on his face But I am the reflection I see I look out of the window And the light has begun to fade And darkness starts to surround my face I look out of the window for the last time today And wish goodnight to this God forsaken place.
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Insidetime September 2010 www.insidetime.org
Library picture
Too much too young Those days are far flung What did I know? Just went with the flow The bag of glue Made by UHU Two cans of special brew Now I feel brand new A little dabble No need to haggle A smoke of puff Never had the huff A little sniff It’s all a miff A gram of speed The 24 hour need One little pill Won’t make me ill A swig of methadone Now I can’t condone The dragon on the foil Now I must toil Today I mainline Tomorrow I don’t feel fine Coming down fast Why can’t it last? My waking thought is you Tomorrow it will be two The cold eye stare The empty space that don’t care It’s all a haze The craving GAZE Too much Too young
City Life
Carole Trevethan HMP Holloway Central London Sitting on a bus Watching all the suits And their daily business stuff Too much traffic Protests going on Buskers on the underground Commuters sing along Gucci and Harrods Where the ‘rich’ people play Doorways and hostels For those who cannot pay Wine bars and poseurs All night raves Pickpockets and beggars And see the junkies crave This is the city From all kinds of views So walk the streets with care And vet the friends you choose
Bells of Neath
N Jarrett - HMP Swaleside Each morning I’d wake And stretch my body To the sounds of bells I’d look out the window And see miners at the top of the hill Waiting at the bus stop On my way to the village square To get my granny’s shopping I’d say hello to Evan John Stop and chat with Dai the butcher And exchange some playful banter With Stella at the sweet shop To secure a future I left the past And a village of contentment Now when I return I still hear the bells But the mine is a museum And Stella’s a Co-op
Insidetime September 2010 www.insidetime.org
If you would like to contribute to the Poetry section, please send your poems to ‘Poetry’, Inside Time, Botley Mills, Botley, Southampton, Hampshire SO30 2GB.
Another Gael
The Hard Part
Danny Hughes - HMP Brinsford It’s not the police station, with no telly It’s not the shit or the cells that are smelly It’s not the two drunks who think they are singers It’s not the swabbin’ your gob, or the ink on your fingers It’s not going to court, nipped straight out of your “bed” It’s not the sweatbox that makes your arse dead It’s not the crap coffee that tastes like dirt It’s not stuck up magistrates, whose attitude’s worse It’s not the first journey to jail sick with worry It’s not the interview and first meal, trying hard not to hurry It’s not the first night not knowing what to expect It’s not the mattress and pillow, breaking your back and your neck It’s not the routine, exactly the same everyday It’s not never partying, all work and no play It’s not next door, banging again for a light It’s not all the trouble, the “F...ups” and the fights It’s your parents’ feelings when they get upset It’s your best of mates when they start to forget It’s your relationships, who’s she with – where’s my bird? It’s your kid, brothers and sisters, their birthdays and first words It’s the end of a visit, seeing them walk out the door It’s the last of your credit, when you can’t ring anymore It’s the time that you’ve lost, which you will never get back It’s when you get out, having to start from scratch See all those little things you can leave them behind Get over them all – anyone can The hard parts when you’re out, then you’ll find Time, my son, waits for no man!
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Punishing Outlook
LJ White - HMP Magilligan I was a prisoner before I entered this cell A prisoner to drugs and drink, a living hell Prison has become my rehab; I’ve had time to think Of the devastation of the drugs and the drink I never married for drugs were my life My sister, my brother, my mother, my wife First thing in the morning and last thing at night Addiction controlled me I put up no fight I’d beg, steal or borrow the needle to feed No end for my torture to satisfy greed Ah yes I thought I was having a ball LSD, Speed, Heroin I’ve had them all Life and soul of the party, I’m holding court Not a bad fella, but I’ll dish the dirt Drugs are for mugs and will lead you to crime Take it from me, ‘cause I’ve done some time Anytime I could easily score But I’ve come full circle, I’m taking no more I’m burying this habit and laying a wreath I like getting up being able to breathe And feeling the sun shine in on my face This isn’t a jail it’s a far better place I was a prisoner before I entered this cell But that nightmare’s over and I’m doing well
Poetry Andy Thomson - HMP Dartmoor
Wolf
Stephen Jackley - HMP Parkhurst A wolf in the wilderness Standing tall and proud Against all perils, withstanding all pain With amber eyes gazing Into an ever changing distance To a world where he is not hunted Where he can run free Boundless as the winds which stir the waters Living as one with life A will and independence to defy the very earth And yet, connected To every root and branch From the smallest to greatest The insects, the stars, the fallen leaves The mountains, rivers and trees On a cold starlit night With an eerie howl that touches the heavens Face uplifted into the black unknown Calling, crying, searching A floating question mark amidst a mystery
RIP Dad
Nick Walsh - HMP Wayland My dad was my closest friend Even right up until the end No matter what I ever done He’d say “it don’t matter, you’re still my son” He only ever wanted what was best for me And was so proud when I had my Lee If I needed help or advice I wouldn’t have to ask him twice He always had time for me Countless hours spent in A & E And them places used to drive him mad But he’d hold my hand and say “you’ll be alright lad” I remember the time he tried to teach me to drive We nearly never made it out alive I can hear him now screaming “Brake, brake, brake!” Sitting there sweating saying “for f**ks sake!” One time when he was drunk, he tried to teach me to dance I sat there shaking my head saying “not a chance” So he went for it on the front room floor Fell over the table, and nearly through the door He was the funniest man I’ve ever met The sort of guy you’d never forget But mate this is not the end We’ll have that dance again my friend
On the other side of that door Rickety rickshaws of commotion Carry crowds of self appointed Gods With an insanity of Monkeys trying to be men Searching for comforting reassurances They permeate any sheep So to suffer the discomforts of A bone deep misery and echoes Of primal screams issued by spirit voices That are herded down skulled walls As the flood gates open with the Torrent of words to hang any thought on The deep box of Pandora releases the boredom of madness, they muse on Quietly running amok trying to Reclaim suburbia. They punt through Their time randomly choosing TV channels As the masters try to commit them to a plan And with hope in many guises They win back their minds from the Scenic violence wrought by the unnatural Selections of life’s unguarded blades With leaps of suffering and unexplained Occurrences, all this is carried out With the overlords silent approval
Coming to Holloway Sarah Evans - HMP Holloway
I came to Holloway in June 2009 Sent from Eastwood Park they said I’d be fine But I was unsure, the stories I heard About being in Holloway and doing “bird” I was only 25 and was not well I’d suffered a fire and the recovery was hell Three long months in a hospital bed At first they predicted that I would be dead But I came through it, I was strong But I couldn’t understand what I had done wrong Officers with me night and day I really wished they would go away Discharge day arrived and back to prison for me Although Holloway it was going to be The journey and transfer took hours on end I was really upset and could not pretend The Holloway gates so big and fierce I tried but couldn’t hold back the tears They took me inside and I cried They left me alone, I could not hide A nurse named Chrissy was waiting for me Who’s turned out to be a nice lady My new home would be Healthcare, it was called C1 My time at Holloway had now begun She took me along the trolley route, I was scared Long winding corridors with lots of stairs And then we arrived, room 7 was unlocked And at last my journey had finally stopped I sat on my bed and took a deep breath I wanted to die I must confess To just be swallowed up and taken away And not be sitting in Holloway
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If you would like to contribute to the Poetry section, please send your poems to ‘Poetry’, Inside Time, Botley Mills, Botley, Southampton, Hampshire SO30 2GB.
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Congratulations to T Goodall - HMP Bullingdon - whose poem wins our £15 prize for ‘Supplement Runner Up’.
My Mind T Goodall - HMP Bullingdon My mind is like The colour of the night Void of emotion Flat lined and lifeless Yet the sight of your smile Brought something back An emotion not felt Since a heart became lost
The Cell Window Adam Mandeva - HMP Exeter Looking out the cell window I watch the pigeons fly Cold wind blows across my face As life passes me by Looking out the cell window Watching cars drive up and down Watching people outside smiling While people inside frown Looking out the cell window Barbed wire everywhere Plus security lights and cameras Make sure we don’t escape from here
Not a Nice Place
My Family
8am its breakfast, time to get up and out of bed One half cooked sausage and a slice of stale white bread You also get a nice boiled egg here the yolk is nice and green Breakfast here is the worst breakfast that I have ever seen Most is disposed of out the window for the seagulls to come out and eat The ones around here are pretty dumb and see it as a treat Yes breakfast in here is very bad I wouldn’t insult a dog I think I’ll leave the seagulls alone and flush it down the bog It’s now 8.30am and off to work I go That’s if the officers unlock your door because they don’t seem to know How to read a list let me out to earn a quid or two Making prison furniture that’s stuck together with glue Yet I am lucky, so they say, I work on the saw For a period of 6 hours a day, I get 20p more Working like a slave for £9 a week Use it on the pin phones 9 minutes I get to speak Its dinner time, time for stuff they call the main meal Dodgy potatoes which the kitchen staff are too lazy to peel But if we are lucky its chips that are cold And they’ve been on parade so long; I guess you’d call them old Speciality of the day a chicken less pie, chips and peas It’s ok son, you don’t have to eat it, we can hear your pleas Buy some food from DHL the people who do the canteen But then again you may need a loan as the prices are obscene After tea time bang up, association for an hour Barely enough time for a phone call and a shower There is always a game of pool if you choose But not with one of the lads’ coz on it are the screws Then its bang up time and behind our doors we go It’s best just to switch off and go with the flow One year, my day will come when they’ll let me out the gate But I’m an IPP and probation says don’t be late Do what we tell you, don’t do no wrong only right Or you’ll be back. Dodgy sausages and all at the speed of light!
What is a family? Like me do you need a clue? Mum it’s up to you Grandma making Irish stew Junior sniffing glue Dad who? Change is long overdue Society over to you
Mark J Milne - HMP Holme House
Looking out the cell window Can’t wait to say goodbye So I can see the cell window But from the other side
How Life Can Change Mark Dell - HMP Dovegate A false allegation Has ruined my life I’ve lost my kids I’ve lost my wife I had a nice home And lots of stuff Now it’s all gone I had to live rough The police they don’t care They think I am scum They treat me like dirt They just want me done Who cares about evidence? It don’t mean a thing Just an accusation means I’ve done a bad thing
My brothers my sister We weren’t so close But all through this They’ve helped me the most
Looking out the cell window In the distance there’s a church So I close my eyes and start to pray For the people that I’ve hurt
Looking out the cell window I see the prison gate I’m told everything happens for a reason So I guess getting locked up was my fate
Macnutty - HMP Peterhead
They sent me to prison For 14 years Destroyed my wife I held back the tears
Looking out the cell window I see the train station People hopping on and off Just builds my frustration
Looking out the cell window Let out a giant sigh Making pictures out of clouds As I look up at the sky
Insidetime September 2010 www.insidetime.org
Poetry
Lee Welling - HMP Chelmsford I have just received my letter from the Inside Time Poetry What a remarkable letter I would love to win and send it to charity but then again what’s the majority It’s about taking part and opening your heart It gives you the feel for being real It’s all about you being open and true Start writing things down Even though sometimes I have not got a clue but you find the strength and find something new Pen to paper I have now done something it just shows I’m not that much of a fool We can all get by if we just be a little real I did not know it but I could be a Poet
I’ve got a new brief It’s time to appeal Get all my evidence And prove it’s all real If yet again I get stitched up I think it’s time To just give up If I fail to see My innocence proved I guess I’ll stay here Until I am moved All I ask From God above Look after my kids And send them my love
Insidetime September 2010 www.insidetime.org
Poetry
If you would like to contribute to the Poetry section, please send your poems to ‘Poetry’, Inside Time, Botley Mills, Botley, Southampton, Hampshire SO30 2GB.
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Cell Door
Anthony Tranter - HMP Lancaster Castle The cell door opens for the last time for me Tomorrow I go home to my friends and family So I head to the gates property in hand It’s time to sign away my life and of course the firearms are banned Then the big gate opens your heart begins to pound You hear all the quick footsteps getting closer on the ground Then it’s time for the kisses empty promises too Your mom listens, pulls her face but your girlfriend hopes and prays they are true Then you take your bird home then comes the inevitable knock of your mate Then it’s off to the pub it’s like déjà-vu or is it just fate? A few weeks have passed employers not interested doles not enough So it’s back on the graft with the White and Brown stuff The money comes, easy dependence too Then comes the shouting usually starting with, you don’t care about no one but you You try to make excuses but they’ve all been heard before Then come the inevitable smashed down front door So it’s off to the cells for a night of stress and wondering why The one phone call you’re allowed all your girlfriend seems to do is cry Now it’s off to court where you know it’s no bail Your girlfriend still crying your mom with the look she knew you were going to fail Now you’re back on the bus with only the distorted view Straight in to reception you already know what to do Your walk to the wing people look because they know they’ve seen you before Now you’re back where you started, back behind the same Old cell door
University of Criminology Déjà vu Kerwin Paddy - HMP Highdown
They say it would never happen But here I am today All pondering to myself And getting questioned by everyone else Sometimes you sit and listen Sometimes you even laugh But you recognise that these guys Have passed! One hundred percent murders One hundred percent drugs Even false documents Oh my word! What have we done? To all the ‘new recruits’ To all the ‘golden brains’ To all who cast ‘judgements’ Even without a gain Today we realise That it’s not hard to be An ‘A’ Grade student Of the University of Criminology But as we do our time Let’s learn to stop making Headlines! And leave the University of Criminology Independent and free
David Swarbrick - HMP Manchester Another short stretch Nothing that new, few moon to do From court, I start to retch Another graft, another year But I said I’d never be back home So I’m in reception, again Same ol’ faces, same ol’ crew Been here before, déjà vu Just want my meds, leave the brew So I’m rattlin off the gear Same ol’ story, another year Some are chatting away I’m just thinking of having a lil’ toot To ease my aching gut, shakin’ foot Just want my burn on wing Maybe i’ll change this time Do it for me, do it for dad Sick of committing crime Just to feel normal The gears left an imprint on my brain Like a psychological tattoo I want to change, I really do Don’t want to have this kind of déjà vu
Mind Control Pills
Ashley Davies - HMYOI Swinfen Hall These bloody mind control pills Are controlling my mind they send shivering chills Down the middle of my spine Vote Tory they say, vote Tory And as far for liberal Democracy Liberal bloody Democracy Contradiction in terms what a hypocrisy They locked away my body But my mind remained free Now they’ve given me mind control pills I’m locked up entirely Stuck in the same place In the same time space Living the same day repeatedly I live a life lived deceitfully Politics, a country ruled by psychotics Their lies mephitic Poisoning the blood of the young with their slippery tongue Bring back corporal punishment so they can be hung Why must the country be run By the metaphorically blind? Who can see with their eyes But can’t see with their minds? I don’t see why they get so much fame and glory When the voices in my head told me Satan votes Tory Uh oh independent thoughts again up my dosage This letters to an MP let him pay the postage!
Requiem Just One Dead Rose
Hugh Kunz - HMP Manchester The past is the past What’s done is done Dance in your shroud To a coffin sound The dice has fallen And one is one You’re on your own The sun’s gone down Its ashes to ashes And dust to dust So close the door Now your lovers gone Leaving shattered petals And just one dead rose
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Supplement Runner Up
If you would like to contribute to the Poetry section, please send your poems to ‘Poetry’, Inside Time, Botley Mills, Botley, Southampton, Hampshire SO30 2GB.
Black Wednesday
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Jonathan Irlam - HMP Lancaster Castle
Congratulations to Martin Punton - HMP Acklington whose poem wins our £15 prize for ‘Supplement Runner Up’.
The meaning, reality, all in one day, silent times Our deepest thoughts churning our minds The biggest price we have to pay Silence And broken violins Vibrate throughout these tormented wings That cannot spread But sink and drown our spirits Like they’re made from solid lead Down Down We slowly sink This silence is the place we dare to think
A False Promise
Martin Punton - HMP Acklington This is it, my very last hit Once and for all, I’ll get off this shit This time I’m determined, full of intent On my jeans I dry my wet palm I tie that lace around my arm Into my vein I push the syringe 16 years I’ve been on this binge Down the toilet, my life’s been flushed Substance and willpower ruthlessly crushed All’s been lost that I have known Girlfriend kids even my home So here I am in this dirty old squat A grubby ripped chair is all that I’ve got Boards on the windows, and holes in the floor I don’t mind the mess as long as I score Just like my chair, my life is in tatters But I’ve got my smack, so nothing else matters Out comes the pin, my life flooding back Now I’ll get my head back on track This time I know, I’ll soon be clean Back to the good times I had once seen Five hours later, my turkey’s kicked in My plans and intentions are now in the bin Me getting clean is back on the shelf Just one last hit, I promise myself Go get that tenner I know I can borrow I’m guna get clean, but I’ll do it tomorrow.
Wasting Time
M Pudney - HMP Hewell The psychobabes, we much deride But it’s not them, that’s locked inside It wasn’t them that fired the gun Or sold the drugs or touched her bum If our choices were so great Why can’t we just walk out the gate? Why did the judges send us here? Why did our victims stand and cheer We’ll argue ‘bout the rights and wrongs While smoking dope through makeshift bongs We’ll tell the world it isn’t fair Whilst knowing that we didn’t care We wanted what the law forbade And inasmuch our beds we made We chose a path we talked the talk Now it’s time to start the walk Stop with all the blame and rants Get your hands put out of your pants If babes come knocking at your cell Don’t tell them they can go to hell Sit and listen, what harm can it do? And you might just discover a better you But if you maintain, it’s a waste of your time There’ll be lots more to waste, so I guess that’s just fine
Insidetime September 2010 www.insidetime.org
Happiness Jamie Fletcher - HMP Leyhill I saw my old friend today, happiness He was such a good friend to me Always there for the good times For all to share and see He doesn’t come around so much these days But he is still there buried deep And when he shows his face I like to have a peep The mood shifter he is And my mood he has changed Changing the way I feel My feelings rearranged Sometimes I don’t see him for weeks on end He doesn’t show his face When I see him it’s like seeing an old friend He puts a spring in my pace I can’t imagine if he were here 24 hours a day I’m sure I would get sick of him and send him on his way I don’t think I could handle it Happiness every day
PTSD
C S Fisher - HMP Preston Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome I’ve been sent back to ‘Blighty’, yes that’s home Back to Britannia and her white cliffs of lime Now locked up in Preston, doing hard time Along come the visions of the Taliban, I slew No rules of engagement for the punches, I threw I can still remember their foul, acrid, warm breath Their dishevelled, dusty clothing now coated in death The headaches now follow with nauseous pain Continuous white noise, masking screams of the slain My hands now tremble, holding Bourbon and Dry My torso soon follows as I begin to cry No counselling hand can ease the anguish within No medal is worth the political, rhetorical spin I’m not just a number, to do as you please My sacrifice I’ve made, my tears you still tease The Kings Own Royal Border Regiment I served with For a sultry pittance of pay Old soldiers don’t die, they just fade away So think of my plight on remembrance Sunday For your tomorrow, I gave my today
Strip Search
Marie Keane - HMP Downview But then again it’s not so bad Seeing him now and then Hanging out like old buddies But only now and again So thank you old friend of mine Thank you for showing up And putting some sparkle into my life And really cheering me up But for now and I must return To the doom and gloom that is Prison life, troubles and strife And all that other bizz
I stand here naked; my clothes are on the floor Two screws search my body, two more at the door They laugh and they snigger, the governor’s hateful too Your body’s ours to violate, there nothing you can do You can take me and strip search me again and again You’ll never take my dignity; you’ll never see my pain So all you prison warders, who’ve tried and tried again It is I who stand here naked, but you who stand in shame Though you push and probe my body, my thoughts are still my own I think of friends and family, what’s happening now at home I think of all the things I‘ve done, friends I have known It helps to pass away the time, until my time is done
Insidetime September 2010 www.insidetime.org
If you would like to contribute to the Poetry section, please send your poems to ‘Poetry’, Inside Time, Botley Mills, Botley, Southampton, Hampshire SO30 2GB.
Poetry
Reflection S Allen - HMP Blundeston The reflection in the mirror confirms what I already know My life is so pointless and it’s beginning to show The dark rimmed eyes I try to cover up But with so much stress I’m not having much luck The judge said two years yet now I’ve done four I’m no mathematician but that’s double I’m sure And yet it’s not over I still have no date I could lie to you all and say I feel great In fact I feel lousy and cry quite a lot And I’m not on my own it’s the IPP rot The determinate prisoners they laugh and they shout They have an advantage; they know when they are out
The Other Side
Nick Hillen - HMP Wellingborough I can see the other side from my window The tall dark trees, the sunset glow I can hear all the cars speeding by I can see builders on rooftops out the corner of my eye The other side is just so near But it’s on that side in which I fear I fear what is waiting for me on the other side Sometimes I want to get away and find somewhere to hide I want to think positive but negative is all I feel I pray the lord will guide me from resorting back to deal Where am I gonna go, what am I gonna do? What does the future hold for me, I haven’t got a clue Will I find a job I like; will I find my happy home? Or will the devil take my soul, and raise me as his own
Takers
In-cell Insomnia
Got any papers? Burn or some sugar? Whoa – whoa – whoa! I’m not your mother
My inability to sleep Is wearing me thin There’s no end to my dreams Because they never begin Forever locked in my cell It’s like I’m under a spell They put a hex on me The deranged sleep police Yes I’m an insomniac Aww poor little me The violent little thug He can’t get to sleep But you see I aint after your sympathy I just want you to understand What it’s like to be me!
Mark Bramwell - HMP Everthorpe
Got any sleepers? Get ya 2 back tomorra Wanna swap your speakers? For 10 tins of tuna? Warming hands down pants Strutting back from the block Names engraved in necks In case they forgot This is no cash exchange Where the mars bar is king You would threaten your brother For such a small thing No you can’t have my milk You’ve got all my whiteners And don’t come again Eyeing up lighters Association gone, its lock up time Locked in, locked out, whatever, just fine 13 hours, till they unlock and wake us 13 hassle free hours, without the takers
Loki Maxey - HMP Swaleside
Jenna is my life Mike Thornton - HMP Manchester I go to sleep at night Dreaming of holding you tight In the morning when I alight I’m refreshed and feel so bright I put this down to my love for you I pray you feel the same way too
We’re treading on eggshells we watch what we say There’s no fun and laughter in our average day We pass on the stairs there’s nothing to say We all try to cope in our own little way A nod of the head is usually suffice It’s not like we’ve got to talk about anything nice We’re all way past tariff. By a long way at that Waiting on a hearing that will knock us back You’re stripped of your manhood you start to feel weak When the sentence for some is really a cheek There are lots that have stabbed for the 3rd, 4th time Yet they didn’t get a sentence, anywhere like mine Possession of guns, armed robbery to name some They’re back on the street in half the time I’ve done Mine were a threat, it was empty at that I was a little bit drunk and acted like a prat I’m not violent by nature it’s not in my genes I’m sure I’m in a nightmare well that’s how it seems To stab, shoot and rob somebody takes a certain type of man Of that kind of lifestyle I’m definitely no fan So how could the powers that be get it so wrong? When threats deemed more serious, than a knife or a gun I ponder this question till late in the night Tossing and turning it just don’t seem right I’m not Oxbridge educated or too up on the law But I’m definitely not stupid I do know the score But what can I do, little old me Climb the walls again and cry to be free I ran out of fight I just plod along How did the system get it so wrong? I have no life I just seem to exist Thinking of my daughter and the life I’ve missed I’m not so sure if my life will ever be the same As this IPP sentence has got inside my brain I’ve forgot how to laugh, smile and be me I can’t predict the future, I have to wait and see At the moment I feel quite broken but I’ve wrote this poem So at least I’ve spoken My biggest fear is I will never be the same Now the IPP has chipped away at my brain I’m not even half a man. Imagine that!
7
Insidetime September 2010 www.insidetime.org
If you would like to contribute to the Poetry section, please send your poems to ‘Poetry’, Inside Time, Botley Mills, Botley, Southampton, Hampshire SO30 2GB.
Obi Dominic - HMP Blundeston
Sally Pearce - HMP Bronzefield
Inside Time; Time Inside Conceived in my mother’s womb full of love Time spent inside a wall of warmth and bliss Coiled up with joy a time well spent With Mother Nature there to guide you through Out of the womb; inside the world Outside time, yet another time inside
Inside Time; Time Inside Time spent inside the cold wall of the prison Without even a window to search for a glimpse of love The rhythm change but the music is same No love, no care but time in abundance Time to think and time to search Search deeper and you can understand; The meaning of that phrase: “Inside Time” Inside Time; Time Inside we all spend From birth to death and even beyond So with open mind we must learn, that time inside we will always be For we are all serving time and must continue to serve Time and place we serve may differ but it matters not For inside time is time spent “inside”.
Use Now To Make Your Future Steven Barratt - HMP Albany
Today is just another day Yesterday is now the past but never to be forgotten Memories begin when the present ends The present ends as the future is upon us Never the two meet Yet they intertwine And when times are bad, remember
8
I Finally Understand
Inside Time, Time Inside
Inside Time; Time Inside But this time around less love in sight Time spent inside a wall of fears without care Fear for the past, present and future Coiled up in the world longing for the peace of the womb With no guide but you make your way through Alas; that longing will lead you out and in Out of the world and inside the prison Outside time, yet another time inside
Poetry
Stepping Forward Terry Smith - HMP Gartree Stepping forward into the unknown is a scary thing Because most of my life I’ve lived in sin A childhood lost A trail of devastation left behind Wishing I could step forward But I’m on a constant ‘Rewind’ Blinded by darkness Trapped inside of me I try to focus But I can’t see Memories of the abuse And broken trust Too afraid to get close to anyone In case it all turns into dust So why am I bothering, is this life really my fate? My mum tells me, it’s never too late “Give yourself a chance”, she says And “let go of the past”, but whenever I try that It never seems to last How can I step forward, Mum When I don’t know where I am now I’m trying so hard But I don’t know how I mean, don’t get me wrong Cos I can definitely see the light But taking that first little step Will be one hell of a fight
Just Jail
Paul Mattheson - Isle of Man Prison I have ups, I have downs but I just crack on I have 6 I’ll do 4 then my time is done I’m rapped I’m trapped I don’t know what to do I’m sticky I’m stuck like a jail of glue I’ve got mates I’ve got pals but who really cares I’ve got months I’ve got years but the days are just blurs
When we are at our lowest the past can be precious Yet the future can have much more to offer
I play cards I play pool and chill with the lads I laugh and I joke to save me being sad
Knowing that the future is soon to be yours is hope Hope is all we need to exist And as precious as it may be, or not, remember
I eat and I train but what’s it all for I want to be stronger and fitter but I’m not really sure
Remember that time is special
Then I jump on the phone when there’s nobody on it Then I go mad when it’s engaged it really is shit
Remember that there were good times And there can be again
So I try again soon to make sure everything’s fine But I get that engaged tone again beeping down the line
The past can’t be changed The future is what you… we… us… make of it
This is just jail there was nothing wrong at all It was just me setting myself up for another big fall
So use now to make your future And the past to make you strong
If you want all this then don’t make the trip But if you do fancy it then just DO YA RIP
When I think of how life brought me here The story is there but never is clear I start at eleven, I was scared and confused Losing my innocence, when I was abused Living in the past, I was letting him win Walking in circles, don’t let anyone in Time kept ticking, I carried on Walking the same road, though I knew it was wrong Violence I grew with, scarring my mind Emotional torment, though others were blind Those I let close, thinking they cared Left me behind, when I needed them there Rape and miscarriage, part of my story Anger inside me, never the glory Just years of torture, are all I have Drinking to forget, to finally laugh Fighting my way through, to see in today My life is my battle, in so many ways Alone in my heart, afraid in my head So many reasons, I’m better off dead But fight I continue, until my war has been won When I let go of yesterday, and tomorrow begun.
Droplet Memory
Jason Carmon - HMP Nottingham I remember the skies that carried me And the clouds that threw me out I remember the hills that caught me And the grounds that filtered me out I remember the spring that sprung me And the brook that carried me away I remember the rivers that connected me And my journey out to the sea I remember these things they played their part But where on earth did I really start? Please help me remember. Next month we revert to the usual poetry section, we will award a prize of £25 to the entry selected as our ‘Star Poem of the Month’. To qualify for a prize, poems should not have won a prize in any other competition or been published previously. Send entries to: Inside Time, Poetry, Botley Mills, Botley, Southampton, Hampshire, SO30 2GB. Please put your name, number and prison on the same sheet of paper as your poem. If you win we can’t send your money if we don’t know who or where you are! By submitting your poems to Inside Time you are agreeing that they can be published in any of our ‘not for profit links’, these include the newspaper, website and any forthcoming books. You are also giving permission for Inside Time to use their discretion in allowing other organisations to reproduce this work if considered appropriate, unless you have clearly stated that you do not want this to happen. Any work reproduced in other publications will be on a ‘not for profit’ basis. WHEN SUBMITTING YOUR WORK PLEASE INCLUDE THE FOLLOWING PERMISSION: THIS IS MY OWN WORK AND I AGREE TO INSIDE TIME PUBLISHING IT IN ALL ASSOCIATE SITES AND OTHER PUBLICATIONS AS APPROPRIATE.
