Illustrious Love
Growth
by Justin Beckett
Poetry, Heard/Arlington County Detention Facility/OAR writing contest, August 2021
In the beginning we are wild and free
Being young, having a life of fun.
As we grow we learn about life,
Developing our feelings and personalities on
the life we don’t understand.
We create[e] a prison around ourselves, with the
Attitudes and anger we create[e] in ourselves.
We believe our ways are true and real,
but still down deep, we don’t know what to feel.
We continue to live in our own built paths,
runnning and running, putting on our masks.
We want to believe, but just don’t know how,
that the ways of life are not what they seem.
Some have come to realize and made the change,
and some of us, still live in our own built cage.
Blaming the world and everyone else,
not taking responsibility for our own true self.
Living life of chaos, mistakes, and destruction,
Until one day we hit rock bottom and have to
deal with repercussion.
Doing the time, some come to see,
that living our way of life, we were not free.
The pain, and guilt, and the shame,
we come to realize, we ourselves are to blame.
We learn about ourselves and what we want,
But sometimes too scared to ask for help.
The demons we have are here to haunt,
But we will not, let them taunt.
Finally, we make a choice to change our way,
having to put the past at bay.
It’s not an easy road to pave,
But day by day, we can be saved.
We learn that life is what we make it,
To understand we cannot fake it.
We have to find our inner self, we have to
change, and ask for help
It will always be a daily battle, but if we fight,
we won’t have to walk in the yard like
heards of cattle.
Giving our life a new chance to live,
We can live in freedom, and learn to give.
Being the person we were meant to be,
living a life of peace, and being free.
Challenges of life are not easy to flow,
But sticking TOGETHER,
We can learn to GROW!!
Who Are The Thugs
by Demetrius Spencer-Coates
Poetry, Heard/Arlington County Detention Facility/OAR writing contest, August 2021
They weren’t thugs when the stripped us from our land
and made us eat from there hand
They weren’t thugs when they took my father
and beat him right in front of his fam
They sprayed us for marching with Martin
Targeted Malcolm
Told us we couldn’t drink from there fountain
Burned our houses.
Hung our Ancestors.
Where was our justice?
Where was our justice when we were riding for freedom.
Where is our justice for all the black lies lost at the hands of police.
But they call us thugs.
Because we sag our pants
Got tatts on our face and hands
Sell drugs to feed our fam
Stand outside late night after street lights
Drive cars with tinted windows and get into street fights
Come from low income families were its hard to sleep at night,
Because of roaches, rats, killers, and street mice
So it ain’t our fault if we get discouraged
That ain’t a reason for them to want our race to perish
Because we was born to flourish.
Because you all took our ancestors and brought them here,
Instilled fear in there minds that would last for centuries and be passed through genes.
Do your research these thugs manipulated and brain washed us
Then called us thugs for what we could not control.
So tell me
Who are the real thugs?
Part 2 coming soon on the brainwashing techniques and the Government.
The End
Let my words free your mind.
Black Reality
by Jerrell Copeland
Poetry, Heard/Arlington County Detention Facility/OAR writing contest, August 2021
As the soul cries
within the eyes
that look through the windowpane
enslaved caged thoughts think freedom really bring better days.
To be the answer or not to be
the easy way distracts one from the question.
Helpless, time comes and tosses
those whom are doomed not to elude the catcher.
Free dumb taught by the Master
sale the Black
you know what comes after.
Father time fatherless to my kind oh what a disaster,
for he runs out not to teach the seconds that passes.
As the clock watches hour tic toc vanish
the minute we find happiness it’s banished.
Behind barbwire fences concrete cinder blocks steal bars
and doors that are locked where our loves eventually love another
brothers forget brothers and the hearts torn,
punish, crushed belong to our dear mothers.
This is Black reality
the dark life savagery
its cold in that hole where we go,
so sad to me.
Our pupils envision this is how it has to be.
23 and 1 hour or Sun do what’s right so you don’t have to live like this please.
I beg you to listen so that you may gain understanding and take heed,
a wiseman had a nightmare revealing a ghost dream.
There was a beast called the system
an vicious organism
that couldn’t exist without cells.
Have you heard of it?
It’s Jail.
Unmeasurable in size
it resides wherever there’s a mind,
even in front of our own eyes
we see it not trying to hide
Fat Bag of Cash
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