my time... so listen up!

Section Title v 1My Time...so listen up!Young Men of Color

Poetry of Empowerment from Cyndi Taylor Krier

Juvenile Correctional Treatment CenterSan Anto, Tejas

2 Section Title

Writer-in-Residence General Editor

Ben V. Olguín, Ph.D.

Assistant EditorsRobert Luce

Sarah MontoyaRobert Moreira

Linda Winterbottom

Spring 2012

My Time...so listen up!Young Men of Color

Poetry of Empowerment from Cyndi Taylor Krier

Juvenile Correctional Treatment CenterSan Anto, Tejas

My Time... so listen up!

© 2012 Gemini Ink

Cover art: Joanna Zamarron

Design & Layout: Anisa Onofre, Director, Writers in Communities, Gemini Ink

Evie Reyes, Managing Director, Gemini Ink

This project was generously funded by the Bexar County Juvenile Probation Department.

Special thanks to Cyndi Taylor Krier Juvenile Correctional Treatment Center Enrichment Program Coordinator Jessica Maupin, and center staff.

Gemini Ink, San Antonio’s only independent non-profit literary center, nurtures writers and readers and builds community through literature and the related arts.

Writers in Communities sends professional writers into diverse community settings – shel-ters, schools, neighborhood centers, detention facilities – to work alongside students of all ages, needs, interests, and abilities. These workshops – always free to participants – focus on oral traditions, reading, and creative writing, and because we publish work by each student, represent for many their first acknowledged success with language.

Opinions expressed in this publication are not necessarily those of the Bexar County Juvenile Probation Department or Gemini Ink.

Editorial note from the Cyndi Taylor Krier Juvenile Correctional Treatment Center: The characterization of incarceration in the preface is intended for the criminal justice system in general, and is not intended to reflect Ben Olguin’s views of the Cyndi Taylor Krier Juvenile Correctional Treatment Center in Bexar County where these young men reside.

The original drafts of poems were lightly edited to preserve the unique voice and content of the authors.

Gemini Ink 513 S. Presa San Antonio, Texas 78205 877.734.9673 geminiink.org

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Preface by Ben V. Olguín / i.

I. Where I’m FromThe Walk... Adam V. / 1I’m From... Rosalio B. / 1The World I Live In... Andres H. / 2Untitled... Drake C. / 2Untitled... Drake C. / 3My Life... Andres H. / 3Where I’m From... Christopher F. / 4Untitled... Drake C. / 5Alone... George P. / 6Changing Hypocrisy... George P. / 7Huffing & Puffing... Drake C. / 8Who I Am... Christopher F. / 9This Pain... George P. / 10Life... Christopher F. / 11Alone Inside... Christopher F. / 12

II. FamiliaBe a Man?... Edgar F. / 13Feliz Cumpleaños, Carnalito... Ricky A. H. / 14I’m Sorry, Mom... Ricky A. H. / 15Pain... Christopher F. / 16Being a Man... Drake C. / 17Keeper... Ricky A. H. / 17Untitled... Edgar F. / 18To Mom... Drake C. / 19What it Means to Me... Athan D. / 20Change... Adrian H. / 21

III. On LockI’m Changing... Nicholas J. / 22On Lock... Christopher F. / 23Tears of Ecstasy... Chassan R. / 24Isolate... George P. / 25Schitzoman... Chassan R. / 26Untitled... Andres, H. / 27

This World... Rosalio B. / 27Group Poem #1 / 28Don’t Know What You Have ‘Til It’s Gone... Anonymous / 29My Mind... Chassan, R. / 30Belly of the Beast... Christopher F. / 31Eyes That See... George P. / 32Pride... Rosalio B. / 33

IV. Looking Back/Looking AheadThe Cycle... Chassan R. / 34 Soon 2 Be... Matthew R. / 34Tears... Ricky A. H. / 35My Life... Fernando S. / 36 As I Look... Rosalio B. / 36Love... Christopher F. / 37A Man... Rosalio B. / 38 I Don’t Know... Athan D. / 38Temptation... Adrian H. / 39Things I’ll Have to Confront… Athan D. / 40The Grass That Grows... George P. / 41Sad Klown, Happy Klown... Ricky A. H. / 41Seek... George P. / 42Colored Future... Christopher F. / 43

V. Watch Me Make It!Watch Me Make It... Ricky A. H. / 44 Untitled... Ricky A. H. / 44Real Words... Adrian H. / 45Taking Care of Biz... Matthew R. / 46A Man!... Nicholas J. / 46Loving Power... Nicholas J. / 47 Sin Título... Edgar F. / 47The Boy Before and the Man After... Drake C. / 48Group Poem #2 / 49 Full Responsibility... George P. / 50This is War... Adrian H. / 51Group Poem #3 / 52More Than Just One... Nicholas J. / 53

About the Artists / 54

PREFACE

Doing Time... On Their Own Terms

There are many ways to describe incarceration. Some say a jail sentence is “wasted time.” Others call it “punishment.” The many who call it “justice” are usual-ly oblivious to the conditions of imprisonment, as well as the broader socio-economic and political circumstances in which prisoners were born, raised, and ultimately make the fateful choices that led them into the “system.” For many prisoners, one of the most devastating aspects of imprisonment involves the loss of autonomy and control of their own lives; while for many more, prison feels like a natural extension of lives where their opportunities were circum-scribed by forces outside their control. Many grew up in conditions of intense pov-erty, multi-generational substance abuse, and a stratified educational system in which school funding is based on property taxes that ensure the rich have more educational resources and related opportunities, while the poor are forced to scratch out a living any way they can. In many respects, this is why the most common metaphor used to describe incarceration is “doing time.” In the most immediate sense, this term refers to the emotionally painful and physically grueling challenge of being forced to live the day-to-day existence in confinement for a set amount of time based on minimum sentenc-ing guidelines developed by politicians, or a specific sentence set at a prosecutor’s and judge’s discretion. In a broader sense, “doing time” also refers to the paralyzing sense that some people never really had full control of their life even before their birth. Time, for some, is a wicked force that is hard to see, but impossible to ignore because of the pain it causes. The young men whose words make up this anthology come from a variety of backgrounds and places—from all sides of San Anto to Dallas, Texas and as far away as Palestine. But they share an important commonality: the determination to use their time inside to write a new reality outside. “This is my time,” as one young man stated in this 6-week Writers in Communities poetry workshop in the spring of 2012, “So listen up.” As the words in this collection indicate, the authors are determined to turn their sentences at the Cyndi Krier Juvenile Center into an opportunity to meditate on their past, present, and future. Regardless of how people on the outside see them, and however long and difficult their sentences may be, these young men shout out to us all and to each other that it is their time to shine, and they want to bring us along to share and grow together. “Watch me make it,” another writer read out loud to the group, which led others to add, “Me, too, ese!”

Homeboy Intellectuals

The most brilliant minds in human history have been cultivated in prison. Socrates, Malcolm X, and even Jesus Christ all found themselves incarcerated at specific points in their lives, and these experiences ultimately led them to develop hu-manist and collectivist philosophies they offered as an antidote to exploitation, abuse, and injustice. This is not to say that prison is a good place, or that incarceration is to be de-sired. Anyone who has been locked up knows that there are many challenges to doing

i.

time, instead of having time do you in. This is why some veteranos have said that the best way to survive inside is to take it one day at a time, so that in the end, you do only two days: the day you go in, and the day you get out. But the young men in this anthology show that there is an even better way. They have used the space between their first and last days to reclaim their time to write a new sentence, and to combine these sentences into a longer story in prose and verse about where they have been, where they are now, and where they want to go. As Malcolm X noted, in order for us to know where we are going, we need to understand where we are now; and in order for us to understand our present, we must know our past. The writings in this anthology demonstrate this same depth of inquiry and, indeed, profound wisdom. These young authors not only meditate on their own past, present, and desired futures, but also provide broader analyses of the big picture. Indeed, one might say that the difficult circumstances chronicled in the poems, letters, and essays offer lessons about the lack of “justice” for many people in this world. Equally important, these young men do not offer us rosy fantasies of how everything will automatically become different and better once they get out. They know that the same dangers and temptations that existed before their time inside are still there. Nor do they absolve themselves of any responsibility for their situa-tions. On the contrary, they engage in brutally honest, and personally difficult inter-rogations. They tell it like it is. This method of turning difficult life circumstances into opportunities to meditate and theorize about one’s self in the broader society, has been called “tes-timonial” literature. It has been used by many people throughout the world—espe-cially the poor, workers, immigrants, women, and prisoners—to offer insight and wisdom into their personal and broader political realities. Some of the more renowned testimonial authors include former prisoners, such as Luis Rodriguez, author of Mi Vida Loca: Always Running—Gang Days in L.A. He used his own time in prison to meditate on the personal choices and broader political circumstances that led to his past drug addictions and incarcera-tion. By writing about painful past experiences, he was able to analyze the several cause-and-effect relationships, and ultimately created a new path for reclaiming control of his life by going into recovery, seeking counseling, and joining political organizations that honestly addressed his realities as a dark man in America. Luís Rodriguez’s success arises not simply from the fact that he became a world-class author who makes a living on his writing, but from the actual writ-ing that offers wisdom to many more people beyond his individual self. He is what scholars have called a “homeboy intellectual.” So are the young men who collectively authored, My Time... so listen up! They not only share their pain and suffering as well as desires and dreams, but also invite us to do the same. In fact, they provide a blue print for reconstructing our lives by meditation on where we are from in relation to our larger family experienc-es, and also on the trials and tribulations that people endure both inside and outside jail, as well as the relationships between the past and future.

Simón que si, these batos are barrio philosophers!

Ben Olguín June 2012

ii.

iii.

My Time...so listen up!

2 Section Title

Where I’m From v 1

THE WALK

I take a long walk, the walk of life. I wanna run to the end, but I take it one step at a time, looking at the messed up footprints I leave behind; you wanna know my life? Well, here’s my shoes, walk a mile or two...

—Adam V., 14

I’M FROM...

Where I’m from I came from the slumme doing this time ain’t no funsometimes I feel like I’m dumb for doing the crime I’ve done

I pray every night to get my mind right so I won’t have no more lonely nights

I wake up and squeeze my eyesso no more tears come down...

—Rosalio B., 16, Westside

2 v Where I’m From

THE WORLD I LIVE IN

the world spins and swirls, the outside beautiful, but inside makes me want to hurl, people living on the street, or on the curve, hit and runs and no atttempt to swerve, Godheal me with his herbs...

—Andres H.

UNTITLED

I’m a thief, youth, resident, jailmate whatever you wanna call me. But I won’t be like my father, an alcoholic; whatever you call me I’ll ab-sorb it like a sponge. I’m a person who likes to hold my tongue ‘cause I know you’ll learn more when you shut up and listen... I’m a person who’ll break into your house and take everything—even what’s in your kitchen! I’m someone who will have you jumping... but most of all, at least, I’m someone who holds my own...

—Drake C., 15, Westside

Where I’m From 3

UNTITLED

It started off in school: I wasn’t big, but I didn’t give a... When I was breaking every rule, momma would get mad and start to tell dad, and every time I got in trouble he beat me real bad to the point where there was blood all over the floor. It went on for years but the next thing I knew my brother saw the blood all over the floor, he felt bitter and cold ‘cause he really didn’t know that this was happening to his lil’ bro... next thing you know I hear my father screaming... turns out what my brother saw turned him into a demon and sent my father, feet in the air, off the ground; my bro had him by the collar, my sister was in the corner screaming as if the moment couldn’t get any better; I’ve never seen my father since...


MY LIFE

In my past, so many people say, and I heard...The sayings mock me like a mockingbird;I was lost, but now God found me and broke my legto carry me with his herd. The devil chases me, though,I almost tripped over the cure... My emotion gone so my heart disturbed; I’m at the bottom and I’m trying to emerge, but sometimes I wish it was as easy as flying like a bird.

—Andres H.


WHERE I’M FROM

The streets! That’s where I’m from.I look around, waking up from a cold restless ground.Waiting for the Lord to make me proud.With a fresh meal coming from a girl that’s always around.

But no sign of that now. Bullets cross my face like glass shattering from its place.There’s a sour taste that stings my face...But wait that’s blood coming from a strange place.

It feels like I’m dying ‘cause my soul is leaking out of a different place. People are running and people are crying.Paramedics are pumping my chest; I wonder why.

Am I dying?

But wait, there’s more so don’t leave mejust lying here. Hold on!I’ll start you off where it all began...

—Christopher F., 16, Southside


UNTITLED

I steal I buy I feel I get madI lie I cheat I sell I hate I loveI cry I wonder why I feel painI get the blame I feel the shame but later on I’ll get a gain,to some people life is a game but tome it will never be the same butI’m just like you, I see I hearI sense I feel I’m a human.Just like you I get used to myfood my drinks my fellow inmates,my officer at school, I’m a human. Justlike you I have a life I have friends I have family I have a heart a soula spirit, just like you I am human. I’m used to saying yes sir no sir and yes ma’am no ma’am. You’re used to saying huh andwhat. You’re used to opening your door and walking wherever you want. I’m used to having my door locked and officers tellingme where to go. You’re used to playing video games, I’m used to playing cards or bones, you’reused to having fun, I’m used to doing nothing,but I’m human just like you. You do whatyou wanna do, I do what I’m told to do. They’ll never let me be. The only difference between me and you is I’m not free.But know this: you’re a human, I’ma human just like you. But because of my life-changing experience I’ll never actor become like you again even ifit means I have to drop every single friend.



ALONE

Alone I stand isolated and coldnot ready to movewithout wind of directionthere seems to be some misconception.

The air is stiffas it sticks to my skinno warmth to the isolation.

Warmth is what’s sought,shelter is what’s foughtto stand and be readywith guidance of stepsthe pain is still heavy.

Alone led meto a pace so steady,from the deserted roadto the abandoned home.No window,no drapesto cover up and hidethe wind that whispered, in the abandoned placebeing alone is all I can take.

—George P., 16


CHANGING HYPOCRISY

Is a manSomeone who takes care of his family?Is a manHonest when he needs to be forgiven?What makes a young manA man when no one’s there to listen?

Is a man outspokenWhen anger and painAre choked in a young man?Who wields the truth of beingOutspoken?

Is a man criticalWhen at times he’s unforgivable?What makes a manWhen he’s never been livable?

The questionableAuthority of a manIs what I see,But the answer of a manFrom what I was taughtI fear to be.

—George P., 16


HUFFING & PUFFING

My family is my life and without my life I am nothing... Where I’m from people back up their huffing and puffing, but sometimes you gotta hold your breath and say nothing... but some people can’t take it and I feel bad ‘cause in life they probably won’t make it... but some people hate harder than Hitler hated the Jews... but they don’t know what it’s like to be in your shoes, to have so much to lose, so they call you a punk... but really they are, ‘cause you’re the one getting jumped... but don’t let it get you down... stay fly... it’s up to you whether you get high, but at least try to live right... Don’t be a ride or die because the meaning is true... Don’t be my next homeboy in that box ‘cause that’ll be homeboy number two who went out huffing and puffing...



WHO I AM

I’m just another kid grown inthe streets.Praying for the Lord to forgive mefor all the tragedies.But as I sit here trying to sound offthis beat, I’m out of speech.Thinking about the homies that aresix-feet deep.They once called me a thief, lockingtheir doors while I’m walking in a creep.‘Cuz I’m hearing voices and can’t even think.They’re telling me to go slice a throat and watch his family weep.

Call me an Alcoholic, call me Murderholic...But on the inside I’m just a boy crying and lookingfor another way to maintain,instead of hurting people and creeping up onthem in the deep of the night,while everybody’s eating tacos and going to sleep. —Christopher F., 16, Southside


THIS PAIN

The pain I feelwon’t go away.The pain I feelseems to stay...

I can’t get rid of this pain,it just won’t leave;I try to run but the paincatches up with me...

The pain I feelis far beyond worst;this pain I got is utter thirst,This pain is just too deep,taking it out is far beyond belief...

This pain pierces through my heartharder than a needle;I can’t get rid of it.It’s too deceitful to bear.Pain is all I seem to feelwhen no one’s thereto comfort. Painsticks and sucks life outlike a leech. Pain coughs when I try to breathe,this pain I feel just won’t leave...

—George P., 16


LIFE

Life is what brings violence and destruction‘cuz everyone is bored.Instead of happiness and joythey’re picking up a gun ‘cuz they think it’s a toy.

Wondering why people are dying, and spendingeternal life behind locked doors.It’s ‘cause they were grown messed up, anddon’t even know how to be a girl or a boy.

So they wind up taking revenge ‘cuzthey don’t know where they’re going.They fend for themselves, so to speak,and don’t even have a place to sleep.

Now you know the way life is on the streets,Begging the Lord, please give me a different life so I can eat in peace.Instead of a nigga trying to put me tosleep, ‘cuz I’m standing on his corner andtryin’ ta eat...



ALONE INSIDE

Sometimes I feel alone,in my room thinking of my dad at home.Wondering if he’s smoking crackwhile I’m in this incarcerated bitch,protecting my back.

Waiting for the days to comeso I can get a visit from someone.Day after day I sit here,twirling my thumbs,just thinking about the days when I was a bum,then it hits me—I’m always alone.

Alone outsidesitting down,kickin’ back,smokin’ to relax,not caring what happens next.


Familia v 13

BE A MAN?

What it means to be man?I wouldn’t know, my dad wasn’t a fan.He fucked my mom and then he ran.I won’t do that, my ground I will standnext to my little girl hand in hand.Every day kiss her goodnight, make her gladto grow up calling me Dad.Doing everything possible to stay with my family,doing what I gotta do to leave my legacy.Overcoming all obstacles to be happyin this reality.This is what it means to meTo Be A Man.

—Edgar F., 17, Westside

14 v Familia

FELIZ CUMPLEAÑOS, CARNALITO

To you lil’ Bro, Let me tell you this: Do wat I didn’t do and don’t do wat I did. Don’t get locked up for no Assault or no drugs, just plz don’t get locked up at all. Sorry I missed your Birthday. Just let me tell you this: I’ll always be there for you. Through a letter or a call I’ll never let you fall. You’re now turning 15 years old and becoming a man. Just find wat you Stand for and you’ll find wat you fall for. Stand tall and Stand Strong and don’t make a wrong choice: listen to that lil’ voice on the inside. Remember it takes a man to do wats right and it takes a fool to do wats wrong. A coward dies a thousand times but a real Soldier dies once. The kite rises higher against the wind not with the wind. Be a leader not a follower. Remember, do it to win. Don’t let nobody pull you down. Stay one deep breath and hold your ground. Walk with your head held high. Don’t Fall into negativity. Break the law of gravity. I just wanna say I’m sorry for missing your Birthday. I love you and miss you lil’ Bro. HAPPY BIRTHDAY

—Ricky A. H., 16, Westside

Familia v 15

I’M SORRY MOM

I’m Sorry Mom, I know when shots rang out you lost your first son. I’m sorry Mom, I put you through this pain. I promise one day I’m really gonna change. I’m sorry Mom, that I became a lil’ criminal, lil’ klepto and very money hungry. I’m sorry I came out this way. Takin’ hits from that evil bong and Shooting that evil gun. Even tho it was just for fun. I promise this rain will go away. We’ll see sunshine one day. We can go to the park and have a pik-nik, laugh at the good old times. It’s your son No-Nu just doing my thing. Following the streets made me pretty cold, made me bad. Made me feel like I lost my soul. I know it hurts when people ask, where are your kids? And your reply is, two are around here somewhere and my oldest is locked up. I’m sorry for pushing you and the family away. Now I realize I hurt the people that Love me and want to see me succeed and not hurt. I just wanna say I’m sorry ‘cause I know you raised me right but I just grew wrong. I just wanna say I’m sorry and I love you Mom. I promise I’m really gonna change and I’ll find a better way.


16 v Familia

PAIN

Is it pain that calls your name when your friend is dying in vain,

Taking his last breath & saying, Please remember my name?

Is it pain that makes you feel guilt & shame when there’s no one to blame?

The sour taste in your mouthJust remembering his name...

He died an unnecessary death & now you’re the one to blame.

So please don’t cry in vain‘cause you’re due to die one day, too.

When the bullets cross your face,you’re gonna realize that your friend is dead,your soul is gone & your daughter is grown...


Familia v 17

BEING A MAN

To me, being a man means knowing when you’re right and when you’re wrong, and being there for your kids, and to keep going when you take them hits, and not crying about life and how it hits you, and paying the bills and rent when it’s due, and not letting people talk you into things you don’t wanna do, and not making yourself look like a fool, being a man means having respect for yourself and others.

—Drake C.,15, Westside

KEEPER

She’s the key keeper of my heart. My love for her grows in the dark. When days are dim she enlightens a beloved friend. She’s the one I’ll keep ‘til the end. True love is a strong bond between two best friends.


18 v Familia

UNTITLED

Girls are so crazyStill, some amaze meNext to you, I can’t think clearlyYour job is to torture me dailySugar, spice, everything niceTalking to you is like rolling diceVolcano to a tornadoI wish I could go back to playing withPlay-dohBeauty so intenseBut a girl so denseWhen you walk by I can’t help but to tense,Look, and look for a princess in distress


Familia v 19

TO MOM

I was out there doing bad making you feel worried and sad but now I’m doing the best I can to show you that I’m starting to understand why you was always worried about me on the streets

but now I get it.

You were hoping that the phone wasn’t gonna ring with the police telling you to go down to the station to identify a young boy’s body.

The only thing I can say is, Mama I’m sorry for all the stress and pain I’m putting you through andI’m telling you now when I get out everything’s gonna be cool.I’ma be doing good & going to school. I promise there won’t be no extra cases ‘cause I know your hands will be full of four aces: Isaac, Misty, Danniele & Drakee plus Lala, Lili and Risty and Kaytlyn...I promise, Mama After this there won’t be no more faking just being chill and real you know the damn deal! And this is just me showing you how I feel...


20 v Familia

WHAT IT MEANS TO ME…

What it means to me,to be a man,is to look at life and truly understand,understand what your family needs,and not what it takes for greed,to stick up for the helpless and the forgottenand continue with life without becoming the fallen,to be able to rise up and put my chest outand not just blow the smoke out,to be able to hold what’s mine and keep it,and never give it up to those who don’t need it,cuz my treasure in life isn’t my money,It’s the ones I love, and nobody can ever take that from me.

—Athan D., 17

Familia v 21

CHANGE

No more dirt riskin’ toget hurt times have changedand so has my mind frameLivin’ for my fam, notfor the blame of gettingarrested and maybesent away. Naw, that stuff ain’t cool, and theones who try to influenceme to do wrong, I’ll call them foolsI’m done with doin’ budbecause it does nogood. Yeah, I can rhyme these words, but I hope in my mind they’re set and understood.

—Adrian H., 16, Nawfside

22 v On Lock

I’M CHANGING

I wanna cry,But my eyes are dry,cuz the Twin Towerscrashed, Everybody dashed.And I learned That I did wrong, And now I’m in placement.I gotta be strong. Not everyone here is the same, I’m just a gringo in their lingo.But I don’t care nothing aboutwhat people call me. I’m just here to do my TIME!!!And the rest is all mine...

—Nicholas J., 16, Northeast

On Lock v 23

ON LOCK

Every day is misery in a certain stage,not knowing how to be a citizen.

So I wonder how it feels to be free. Is it like what they say in the movies,Glory, power, and fame?

‘Cause all I feel is pain in this so-calledcorrectional place trying to keep us maintained.

They treat us like beasts, can’t even keep us unleashed.

So I wonder how would they treat usin GP; would they beat us ‘til we fallto our knees, or would they bow to their knees & say, Please forgive me?


24 v On Lock

TEARS OF ECSTASY

I take 6 or 7 pills to keep me calm—are they really going to work?God gave me a good mind,but drugs made it Bad.While I thought I was on grind,poppin’ ecstasy to try to Feel the Best of me.

I used to watch videos in health edthat said poppin’ pills can cause schizophrenia,But I Never thought I would get the disease.

Now It Sucks, I have to See A Doctorevery week. He asks me how I feel.I Always say I’m doing good, buthe doesn’t See the tears behind my eyes.

—Chassan R.

On Lock v 25

ISOLATE

No room to breathe,surrounded by many good and evil deeds.It’s too hard to sort,the light that escapeswhen one is no morethan dust on earth.

First I look hardand see what lies afar,vision blurred,thoughts swarm,the tears burn,which way to turn?

No room to squeeze,no room to run,the floor bleedsfrom sin,as I isolate myself in a roomto pray in.

—George P., 16

26 v On Lock

SCHITZOMAN

They call me a retard‘cause I’m a schizophrenic.Please call a paramedic‘cause I’m goin’ crazy.

They call me the second Slim ShadyF the world,that’s my motto.

I hear shit that ain’t there,but I don’t really care.I’ll talk back to my mind,might end up on CO—that’s close observation.

But I’m watchin’ thesepeople closely...But other people laughcause nobody’s there!

Shit, that’s not fair...

—Chassan R., 16, Palestine & San Antonio

On Lock v 27

UNTITLED

All around I see violence. My mindis full of adventure, but outside no silence.So much cursing, I wish there were no soundbut the song of violins.

—Andres H.

THIS WORLD

This place is cold, but I know this world will never get old. As I sleep in this room so cold trying to listen to what I’m being told.

But I think every night and keep tellingmyself this is getting old, so I just sit down and fold.


28 v On Lock

GROUP POEM #1

Stuck in distress...

More time on my hands than a Rolex on a wrist...

My mind is in stress, puffing the b-s in my chest...

It’s stuck in there a million miles away...

As a child, never had no play...

Just trying to find a better way...

So I won’t have to be away...

In this place

where I’m in distress

and thinking of the final stage...

On Lock v 29

DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU HAVE ‘TIL IT’S GONE

I lost everything when I went to Juvie,

jumping in court, acting stubborn like a rat,

got sent to a placement and lost all my fat.

My Mom, brother, gone and replaced

with an empty room, a window and a mat,

and now I’m crying so much—

every hour of every day I ask about my stat.

I lost my mind, until God showed me a sign,

At first I thought, Why would God help me

since I did a crime?

These words are from the heart,

not because they rhyme...

—Anonymous

30 v On Lock

MY MIND

Locked up doesn’t mean

that my mind’s gotta be locked.

I express my mind

through my poetry.

I express my mind

through my songs.

Always remember

just ‘cause I’m locked up

don’t mean my mind is...

—Chassan R.

On Lock 31

BELLY OF THE BEAST

I hear my heart pumpin’

I feel my brain thumpin’

I see myself shakin’

My eyes are dilatin’

It seems like I’m breakin’

I’m scared ta’ slip,

Cuz the beast is tryin’

ta eat me like a spic.

There’s blood on the walls.

It’s sticky when you walk the halls.

Got the smell of burnt flesh for no probable cause.

Hearing a voice that calls,

“You’re walking through tha belly of the beast

so don’t stall.”

The devil done caught me on the slick.

Now I’m gonna put my hands up

and fight this trip.


32 On Lock

EYES THAT SEE

eyes that seeon eyes that see,hard to breathewhen I can’t seewhat’s next to me,not hearing a soundfrom what’s lost trying to be found,in the count of toucheslost far from just a hugmissing more than an eye can see.Of what is knownI’m losing you in the crowd,but how can this happen?Relapses of memories with passion,kissing and laughing.The thought of you with an eyethat can see two handsgrabbing one another.Such eyesdrift in the night,dreams that overridethe sight of you.

—George P., 16

On Lock v 33

PRIDE

I got prideto succeed andstrive and keepmy Head up High‘cause inside I’mAlive and outsideI’m dying ‘causeI ain’t lyingabout this timeI’ve done ‘causethis time beingaway ain’t fun.


34 Looking Back/Looking Ahead

THE CYCLE

the cycle of the policethe cycle of the handcuffsthe cycle of the courtsthe cycle of the judgesthe cycle of the gate closin’the cycle of the day, after day, after daythe gate openingthe lighta new start

—Chassan R., 16, Palestine & San Antonio

SOON 2 BE...

Aggravation,Too much limitation,Feel like a dog on a leash,Gimme space 2 spread my wings an’ be a free bird at peace,Got a chip on my shoulder soon 2 be replaced by somethin’ worse,Military-Minded, Educated by my Times, but it’s almost done, an’soon to be free...

—Matthew R., Southside

Looking Back/Looking Ahead v 35

TEARS

The shaded teardrops we get for the murders we’ve caused. The unshaded teardrops we get for the loved ones we’ve lost. The real tears we shed for the pain in between.

Some people live in hell. Some people live in fantasy. But life is full of tragedy. Ask and I’ll tell you why.

They say life’s what you make it. But it feels like no matter how hard I try to do right, the more wrong I do. But I still walk with my head held high. I’ll never give up, even if I die.


36 v Looking Back/Looking Ahead

MY LIFE

I know I’m always bad, but Ijust wish I had my dad. Things Idid in my life are a shame, but I just don’t use my brain. Now Iam here locked up and wish I just never got caught up. But when I get out my life will change, and I will try not to complain about something insane that had to be blamed on me.

—Fernando S., 15, Southeast

AS I LOOK

As I look in the skyAll I see is your hazel eyes.You got my heart, I can’t lie.Hopefully one day you’ll be mine‘til the end of time. I’m tryingnot to rhyme, and I wish I couldtake back the crime, ‘causeinside I’m dying...


Looking Back/Looking Ahead 37

LOVE

Love is what peeks through your Windowin the middle of the Night.

Staring at you like a Predator withits Claws ready to strike.

It can cut you Deep & take your Heartfrom its sleep & watch you Bleed, while your Soul is being reaped.

So Watch how you go before Youfall asleep in a Casket that’s6 feet deep.



A MAN

What it means to be aman is to do everythingyou can to succeed, andnever say you can’t ‘causein life you always can,and don’t bring yourselfdown, and turn that frownupside down, ‘cause this lifecomes aroundjust in time...


I DON’T KNOW

I sought to make a fortune,but ended up empty handed.Now my life turned for the worst, and I just don’t understand it.

What’s going to be my next action?

Will I rise above it or stay down and corrupted?Only time can tell, and I pray for the best,and I know my mom needs me so that adds to the stress.So I guess I gotta wait it out and see what’s next.

—Athan D., 17, Westside


TEMPTATION

Temptation is gonna be tough when I Get out

all my boys Smokin’ askin’ to come hang out

Money’s to be made and yeah, I’m gonna wanna Make it

but not the right way I’ll probley wanna Take it

There’s gonna be girls who wanna get it on

but I’m 16 years old and not ready for a Kid

Temptation Temptation What will I Do?

To be honest I Don’t havea clue...

—Adrian H, 16, Nawfside


THINGS I’LL HAVE TO CONFRONT...

Things I’ll have to confrontare the problems of life.

Things I’ll have to confrontare the inevitable fights.

Things I’ll have to confrontis unforgiving time.

Things I’ll have to confrontare the cold lonely nights.

Things I’ll have to confrontis, very much, my own mind.

Things I’ll have to confrontis just trying to hold on...

—Athan D., 17, Westside


THE GRASS THAT GROWS

The grass that growswill grow and grow,and one day become oldwith the fulfillment of life to show...

And yet we wonder if the grassstands a matchagainst nature itselfin a field that pondersrich soil and wealth...

—George P., 16

SAD KLOWN HAPPY KLOWN

People change and things go wrongBut life will always go on. And amistake if you learn from it. A specialsomeone told. Smile when you kan.Laugh when you kan. Apologize when youshould. Bekuz life iz too short to liveunhappy...



SEEK

The place I seeis a narrow street.Confrontation seeksthe evil deedsthat will soon be catching up with me.

Future is what lies ahead.The past is catching up with the dead.Time is slippin’ thru the cracks,for the day that comesanswering the facts.Manning up is the hardest.Standing up takes life to its farthest.

But what lies ahead?Is the truth shed?From what I don’t know,The vision is getting blurry, like snow.I feel the sleet, it’s going to be hailing hard...

—George P., 17


COLORED FUTURE

People live in the past. Black and white.People live in the present. Colors.People die in the future. More colors.There’s no way to heaven. No color.

So you look around. Peopleare dying over colors.You look at my skin. It’s brown,but I hold a black rag.I look at your skin. It’s brown,but you hold a blue rag.

In the future you’re gonna tellyourself I’m down for my color.Pay respect for all the othersthat died for their color.

But it don’t matter what color,‘cuz truly the color you’llsee is red, for all the bloodthat’s shed.


44 v Watch Me Make It!

WATCH ME MAKE IT

Watch me make it through tuff times. Watch me make it through the good times. Watch me make it through this obstacle we call life. Watch me make it through hell, or as some people call it, the world... just watch me make it!


UNTITLED

People change and things go wrong. But life will always go on. And a mistake is only a mistake if you learn from it. A special someone told me: “Smile when you can. Laugh when you can. Apologize when you should. Because life is too short to live unhappy...”


Watch Me Make It! v 45

REAL WORDS

Real is what Fake ain’tReal always handles its business

Fake looks business in the eye and turns around to run and hide

Real will tell you how it is Fake will tell you what you wanna hear

Real will be there for his motherFake will lie and blame another

Real will look fear in the eye and hold up his head ‘cause he’s full of pride

Fake will try and surely die ‘cause Fake is what Real ain’t

—Adrian H., 16, Northside


TAKING CARE OF BIZ

Taking Care of Bizness,to me, it means survival...

It starts from how you’re gonna eat 2 takin’ care of loose end rivals...

Bizness then recess,Making life-altering decisions is a test...

My family’s my biz, my life, I must keep it.So I gotta survive, never give up or be defeated...

—Matthew R., 16

A MAN!

Man is powerless alone to clean up the Worldoutside, until his own polluted Soul, Is cleanand free inside... for the amazing power of love Is beyond all comprehensionand it alone can heal this World of hatred and dissension.



LOVING POWER

Great is the power of might and mind,But only love can make us kind.And all we are or hope to beis empty pride and vanity. If love is not a partof all, The greatest man is very small.


SIN TITULO

Dolor es un regalo. Humanidad sindolor no conocería el miedo ni lástima...Sin miedo no puede ver humanidad,y cada Hombre sería un monstruo...Reconociendo dolor y el miedo en otros,nosotros Sentimos lástima, y en nuestralástima está nuestra humanidad.Nuestra redención...



THE BOY BEFORE AND THE MAN AFTER

Who am I? I’m someone who wanted to be a thug, I wanted to be real, I wanted to rob, steal, and be with the homeboys, hang out, smoke, be cool like you, shoot guns, steal cars.

Then you had a baby and became the man you were supposed to be, you went to work day and night, you did what you did, and did what you had to do to support your family. I still wanted to be like you and do everything you do.

We were drunk one time and you told me the realist shit I ever heard you say: the difference between a gangsta and a G is that a G gets his money the right way, and a gangsta gets his money the wrong way by stealin’, sellin’ drugs. You said that you were a G, and I was a gangsta, but I just wanted to be like you...

Now I’m locked up trying to do good, just like you. When I get out, you’ll see that you turned your little carnalito into… a man.



GROUP POEM #2

IncarcerationEmancipation discriminationthis is my proclamationfor liberation

Trying to get out with determinationhead held high on my shouldersand it ain’t changin’

this will be something new without the cops‘cause they ain’t helpin’ me get my props It sucks ‘cause when you’re incarcerated all time stops

but watch me make it to the top

and I’m never gonna stop


FULL RESPONSIBILITY

Full responsibilityis a true man’s HonestyProviding for familyoutweighs a man’s insanityFull responsibilitycharacterizes a man’s abilityto overcome problemsthat go on and onlike the autumn leaves fallingBut full Responsibilityhas a man stand tall

—George P, 16


THIS IS WAR…

When I’m on the court that’s my pride. I’ll cross you up with head held high.

When I’m in my zone there ain’t no stoppin’ me.

I feel like a God who can’t be beat. I’m fast as a flash andI’m scorin’ Fa’ sho’.

I rack up pointslike I rack up dough.

If I see a lane, just knowI’m taking it. So get out the way if you fakin’ it.

In the paint I swear, I’m amazing you fool,and leave spectators to drool—their eyes gazing and hungry for more.

‘Cause the court is my battlefield,and man this is war!

—Adrian H., Northside


GROUP POEM #3

My life is full of:

Highs and lowsGrab the dice and rollSo watch me go and wreck this showIt’s like the monster trucks I’ll run you over even before you know.

My life is full ofnights that glow

and days that shine and days that go. Every day make friends not foes, make sure you have positive goals.


MORE THAN JUST ONE...

One is a number but not only a number. It is often forgotten as if it’s in a slumber; so many look to higher figures and often forget one’s own signature. One may not seem as much as far as money goes, but one point won the game and so now one shows. One vote refused Texas entry into the union, one wrong turn leaves us in states of confusion. One second sliced a new world record and won the gold. One opening in the covers leaves your whole body cold. One statement of truth that was never spoken, turns into a secret and an unused token. One un-true rumor spread with cruelty, one innocent victim foreseen as guilty, one misunderstanding that was never made clear, it is one heart with a bloody spear. One child who is hurt with words of hate, stands out in a crowd and is looked to as bait. One bystander that stood there and saw it all, decides not to speak and just lets them fall. One “Hello” or “How are you?” could have saved their day, but one lived in fear of what the group would then say. If only one person had the courage to stand up and be strong, the one would have saved one person from misery, evil, and wrong. One is a lot as far as I am concerned. One could have saved many who anguished and yearned. Whoever on earth thinks one is worth nothing, wasn’t aware that one is truly something. One changes and multiplies and causes results, one gives us our victories and ampli-fies our faults. If only we could just be the one in a world that was with-drawn then maybe we would be one in harmony and all hatred would be gone.


54 v

ABOUT THE WRITER-IN-RESIDENCE

Ben V. Olguín is an Associate Professor in the Department of English at the University of Texas in San Antonio. Olguín earned his Ph.D. from Stanford University in 1996. His specialization is U.S. Latina/o litera-tures and popular culture, multi-ethnic literatures of the United States, Latin American literature, literary and cultural theory. Olguín has published two books – Cantos de Adolescencia/ Songs of Youth: 1932-1937 (Arte Publico Press, 2007) and La Pinta: Chicana/o Prisoner Literature, Culture, and Politics (University of Texas Press, 2010). He is the author of two collections of poetry currently under review: an autobiographical collection of boxing poems, Red Leather Gloves; and a collection of testimonial verse about his volunteer work in Cuba, Warm Rum and Coke. Currently, he is working on a third collection of poetry, and is a member of the Macondo Writers Workshop.

ABOUT THE COVER ARTIST

Joanna Zamarron was born and raised in San Antonio, and has been involved in photography for over 25 years. A graduate of the University of Texas at San Antonio, she earned her B.F.A. in Photography and Art History, and has evolved her focus by experimenting with alternative processes, plastic cameras, toy cameras, black and white film, and digi-tal photography. Currently, she documents local culture—particularly nightlife, live music, cantinas, people on the street, alternative lifestyles, children, self-portraiture, people of the night, bikers, hot rods, sinners and saints. She continually strives to find beauty in places, shapes, forms and bodies not normally considered beautiful by society’s high-gloss and stereotypical standards. Zamarron’s work has been exhibited throughout San Antonio for over two decades, and is part of collections in Texas and New Mexico. She is a proud resident of the Southside, and spends her time wondering where she can next point her camera.

Section Title v 55

A FOCUS ON READING AND WRITING FOR ALL

Gemini Ink nurtures writers and readers and builds community through literature and the related arts. At Gemini Ink we believe human story in all its diverse and complicated forms and genres—from poetry and fiction to memoir and oral tradition—is essential to developing compassion and richness in both individual and community life. We encourage focused reading, writing, and exchange at every level, from elementary school students to incarcerated youth and from the polished professional writer to the elder who has always wanted to record her family stories.

Writers in Communities (WIC) sends professional writers into diverse community settings to work alongside students of all ages, needs, interests, and abilities in free workshops based in oral traditions, reading, and creative writing.

Open Classroom, comprising Autograph Series and Breakthrough Thinkers, presents writers of national and international stature—many of them recipients

of major prizes such as the Pulitzer or National Book Award—in free public performances followed by audience Q&A.

University Without Walls (UWW) offers three semesters of fee-based reading groups and workshops and also many free literary events, all led by professional

writers, scholars, and interdisciplinary artists.

Dramatic Readers Theater (DRT) features professional actors interpreting literary works in free performances, often accompanied by original music.

Contributions and donations of time and resources are gratefully accepted.

For more information about Gemini Ink,visit www.geminiink.org or call 210.734.9673

56 Section Title

513 S. PresaSan Antonio, Texas 78205877.734.9673geminiink.org

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