Generation, Incarceration – Anticipation

by | Sep 13, 2021 | Detention Center Writing Contests, fiction, Poetry

by Horace Williams 

Poetry, Heard/Arlington County Detention Facility/OAR writing contest, August 2021

My first time of incarceration started in 1979

Back then it was such a different time

And considering where I am today

Should have been enough to make stay away

Please be advised that my age is 69

While a good conversation is so hard to find

Feel like I’m lost in a capsule of time

Young men pants below there waist trying to

Feel their shrine

7A was my first unit in proven ground

Cocaine & heroin still in my system please let

me go lay down

My C.R.U. She’Ro appeared and set me down

Man – this may direct me to my cap & gown

Work shops & group programs gave me a edge

Dome how some days I miss my Bed

Generation, Incarceration Anticipation

Whether its Jews, Spanish, African – Ethiopian

Young men chewing that fat – and I hear is

Nigga Dis & Nigga Dat

Now these young men seem to have created a bond

This is what the Rap Music Industry spit out

and called a song

I share in the groups hoping these young men will

feel my shame

Hopefully when group is over they will feel my

pain

After 39 months here I’m finally walking down

this number

Shall I say say thank you God fore there were

days I wonder

Yall know I’m old enough to become a A.A.R.P

member

Hopefully I’m release in the month of December

Hope

by | Sep 13, 2021 | Detention Center Writing Contests, fiction, Poetry

by Betsy Stewart 

Poetry, Heard/Arlington County Detention Facility/OAR writing contest, August 2021

I spent each day just searching for my purpose here in life

and still i could not find a reason to survive.

I struggled through my childhood without a loyal friend,

And every broken heart just [n]ever seemed to mend.

My parents didn’t have time to tell me they cared,

They never came to comfort me those nights when i was scared.

They told me to toughen up an’ don’t cry,

All i want to do is break down an’ just ask them why.

Soon my life fell apart,

All i wanted was there heart.

they couldn’t understand.

I turned to anything that could numb and bury all of my pain.

When my glass felt empty,

I’d fill it up again.

Over the years I drifted through many different towns.

Longing to find something to turn my life around.

I spent many nights alone, cold, hungry, and ashamed.

Desperate to find a warm place to stay.

As I lay on the concrete steps of a church to get some rest,

I felt the presence of someone gently kicking at my feet.

As i open my eyes a stranger stood and smiled.

I brought you something to drink

You’ve been sleeping for quite awhile.

He reached a sturdy hand to me an’ helped me to my feet.

I thanked him for his kindness an’ my heart began to weep.

This stranger gave me so much more than a drink to quench my thirst.

He taught me compassion and the value of self-worth.

From that day on, I grew to love those concrete steps much more.

For one day as I reached the top, I opened the door.

I held on to my tattered coat in hand and searched to find a pew.

I heard the voice of someone saying there is a seat right here for you.

For on that day my life began

an’ soon would understand

that even though i’ve made mistakes I was still worthy,

An’ this will always be my story.

This church Became my loyal friend,

the home I never knew!

I will always now have HOPE!

Peace

by | Sep 13, 2021 | Detention Center Writing Contests, fiction, Poetry

by H2 

Heard/Arlington County Detention Facility/OAR writing contest, August 2021

Everyday, as I open my eyes,

I ask,

Where is peace at?

A piece of me disappeared forever,

when I lost her way back.

They told me to trek my way

to this smorgasbord of fakery,

and maybe, maybe,

I can find her.

So,

A whisper run through my mind,

asking how high I have to reach,

just to get a simple whiff of peace.

Desultory tries,

keep me going.

Just to be at ease,

without no one knowing.

Free me at last from the shackle of unknown,

and place me where a lotus steady flowing.

My enemies are gloating,

every time they see agonizing for a taste of peace.

My nieces are frowning,

Every time I don’t seize the peace lease.

I told them,

It’s only momentarily ya’ll can be at ease,

Before someone else pass ya’ll the peaceless disease.

So,

please repartriate me back,

back to where I can get taste of idyllness.

And don’t you bring me back,

Without you tasting my wrathfulness.

And please,

be aware,

When you rob someones peace,

The consequences might no be what you please.

peace.