August 2023 Monthly Roundup
Since you’re so awesome, Waywards reader, I’m dedicating this monthly round up to you. No need to thank me.
Here are three pieces I wrote that were published in August:
Part II: Obstacles to Successfully Pursuing Higher Education Inside Men’s Prisons in California / The Kansas City Defender / 8-2-23
Philosophy as a Way of Life: The International Movement Trying to Revivify Ancient Tradition and an Academic Discipline / The Partially Examined Life / 8-7-23
Momentum builds for a 'Just Transition' away from immigrant detention / The Frontline Observer / 8-19-23
I’m waiting to get word back from editors about two commissioned articles I submitted this month, and I’m actively working on another piece for an outlet I’ve freelanced for often enough the last two years.
Also, I took my first college class in years. I’m enrolled in a basketball skills course in the kinesiology program at Riverside City College. The class met for the first time this past Friday (8/25), and we played several five-on-five full court games. I had a blast. We don’t have class tomorrow (Friday, 9/1). Here’s hoping the extra week off gives me time to recover from this pectoral muscle strain I suffered recently, as a result of being old, I suspect.
Last week I also taught my first college classes in about two years and my first in-person classes in about three years. In addition, I accepted an offer to teach an Intro to Labor Studies course at UC Riverside in the winter/spring and an offer to teach a mass communications course in the journalism program at RCC in the spring.
My poetry writing continues, when I’m not focused on freelance work or preparing for classes.
I’m posting some poems on the Gram these days. (I now have an Instagram account.)
But if you’ll humor a novice, I’d like to share some verses with you too, Waywards reader,
You’ll find versions of a few poems I penned these last couple of weeks below the image of me running full court and shooting around at Nichols Park this month.
Poem Against Prison Separating family and friends, enclosed in electric wire fence; perpetuating violence Enter and the terror begins; the walls close in while COs fabricate and punish defiance Decimating community, a carceral state punishes the poor with impunity & demands reliance On its penal wisdom, a venal system protecting the state-corporate nexus, interlocking alliance Conflating justice with retribution it maintains the illusion that harsh discipline rights wrongs Targeting Black and Brown, confining the destitute in broke rural towns; perpetuating harms Doing time, some read George Jackson or find satisfaction pouring over the Quran or Psalms To cope with the pain and try to stay sane, others sing the Folsom blues or play uplifting songs Upon request, I sent lyrics by mail to my sister; inside Bond County jail women recited “Parole,” by Immortal Technique, rapping and showing some soul; the cellies liked it Later, at Logan then in the correctional facility in Decatur, on edge but not-so excited My sibling did more than a year, separated from her son and, I fear, suffering in silence Reading Richard Wright and Khalil Gibran, Keith LaMar forges on; he authored a book inside Incarcerated artist and writer Rashid Johnson, a righteous fighter, cancer has threatened his life San Quentin News, sans resources others use; deprivations aside, intrepid journalism thrives Hacker with convictions, Hammond took on Stratfor then he co-hosted a podcast while confined Seldom ensnaring those with wealth, deteriorating poor people’s health; nothing restorative Amid incessant screams, night terrors displace dreams; sadism reigns supreme, abhorrent shit Solitary confinement tortures; its existence belies our kindness while the immorality unmoors us Placement in ad-seg drives men mad each day, seeing, smelling feces smeared upon the floor Like the forsaken Gretchen, beauty exists among the wretched, like in the dungeon scene If you recall “Faust,” by Goethe, and futurity’s angel hurting, so when she spreads her wings We’ll feel the wrath and glory, harkening a new chapter and story, wherein freedom rings The warden Mephisto, is forced to release those, he once held captive, our species redeemed Degrading, locked up; righteous indignation erupts, affirming the value of human lives The Blanketmen of the IRA and later men at Pelican Bay embarked on epic hunger strikes Uprisings from Attica to Lucasville prompted a vindictive state to retaliate and kill; tragic sites Unionized through IWOC, whoa, fuck, labor behind walls withheld nationwide, demanding rights A corporate state incarcerates those we love and venerate but it can’t eviscerate the spirit Families torn apart display tenacity – beating, bleeding hearts, on sleeves some proudly wear it Ripped from neighborhoods, stripped of everything, people still practice mutual aid and sharing Against all the severity, inside-outside solidarity recovers humanity, prefiguring and preparing Conditions aside, eudaimonia in mind, Socrates only authored poems in the deplorable place Evidently, he penned verse in an ancient Athens penitentiary, per Plato’s “Phaedo,” in any case Redemption with artistic invention via the aesthetic dimension, new sensibilities nurtured apace Sensuous experiences of beauty and freedom, changes in mood and reason, happier days In turn, I wrote this poem against prison, an exercise in inspired volition; "Hallelujah," it isn’t much Even if it doesn’t hit the hardest, perhaps it’s a fissure in the carceral carapace, or some such A contribution to the desire for diminution of a dehumanizing institution, and I have a hunch Many share the vision, foreseeing the horrors of prison melting from the warmth of human touch
As Disparities Abound Indigence amid affluence Poverty criminalized Deemed a nuisance Quietly despised Faux caring aside Acting progressive Emphasis on acting Give it a rest please Sincerity lacking A gross, sad scene Enjoying your wealth Self-absorbed as shit Ashamed of yourself? No, a real narcissist And low-key classist Prioritizing your pleasure Others be damned Luxuriating leisure Giving folks commands Enjoying subservient fans Oblivious to struggles Well-heeled and cloistered Tears forming puddles Pain producing moisture That won’t bother her In search of the Sublime, a soul unsound, being bounced around, can’t ignore relations rife with strife, repressing love for life, a love that largely lies latent but refuses to disappear as disparities abound. The hapless soul happens upon a latent volcanic sight. A concrete edifice, forged by a self-limiting selfishness that mutilates the self and makes us chafe, inevitably cracks as an insurgent Eros Effect emboldens the rabble in the rubble, nurtures the would-be rebel, heals the detritus previously rendered disposable and then affirms and defends mostly dormant human sensibilities denied but here bursting forth, recollecting what was lost and is now found.
In Need of Healing
Treated like a piece of shit
By somebody who acted like one
Casually causing harm, finding it fun?
Haughtiness hath ignited a creative engine
Bed made, boundaries set; what’s done is done
Oozing conceit
Self-proclaimed prodigy
More a sad soul displaying mediocrity
A level of indifference, rather shocking to see
Egotistically epitomizing just what and who not to be
Sadistic much?
A question for us to consider
Scars obscuring values, one starts to become bitter
Should all the hurt you caused redound and come hither?
Opposition to vengeance, on the vine, in the mind, will wither
When cast-off love pierces the heart and pain flows like blood in a river
Bond stillborn
Exit ephemeral friendship and euphoric feeling
Crashed on the shoals of superciliousness, leaving me wounded and reeling
Lusting, yet finding your shit disgusting; it grossed me out and hit the fan upon the ceiling
Aperture adjusting, inured to the agony of another, only your needs matter; cruelty congealing
Moving beyond antipathy, self-pity and what’s been heartlessly hollowed out, in need of healing
To Touch the Divine Subtitle or alternative title: To Feel Your Flesh Upon Mine I love to listen when you talk and watch your mouth move Tender warmth, yet cool as ice, a young Catherine Deneuve Tasting, going down so smooth, like a Macallan or fine wine Watching from below as you groove, waiting for some sign Desiring to touch the divine, to feel your flesh upon mine Grasping my entire being deep inside, slake and soothe me Make me feel alive, inhibitions cast aside, like a Bertolucci movie Take me for a ride, the sacred embracing, on an erotic journey Desiring to touch the divine, to feel your flesh upon mine Parting the seas, penetrating the pearly gates, coming to know you Glowin’ lumen, of a flowering, fecund woman so deserving of joy too Delight in lieu of despair, caring so much, concealing what you go through Desiring to touch the divine, to feel your flesh upon mine The lover with sensitivity, synesthetically embraces the rhythmic, sensuous sound Loving her, sensing electricity, sparks fall from paradise, she caresses me down Bradley Nowell put it better; he must’ve met her, the feminine with the holy crown Desiring to touch the divine, to feel your flesh upon mine Taut torso, tight buttocks, entirely toned yet supple; heaven in a human frame Carnal delight; remember, Leonard Cohen, the holy dove moved and I came Bathsheba on the roof, failure and perhaps kismet proof; is temptation to blame? Desiring to touch the divine, to feel your flesh upon mine Evoking the One Soul’s presence, souls become one and express a love supreme Invoking Coltrane-cum-supernal essence, upon the blessed tent shines upper light’s beam Conjoining and rejoicing, a climactic connection with you through seminal now and forever time Riffing on Cohen again, it couldn’t be a sin to embrace your perfect body with spirit in mind Desiring to touch the divine, to feel your flesh upon mine
Questions of Karma
If the world delivers what is just
and metes out deserved karma
one wonders what abject fate must
soon be upon her
I can’t support retribution
and don’t want to see anyone else suffer
but can I condemn the universe’s solution
that brings to thee a horrible shudder?
If every time you taste
the poisonous medicine you concocted
it might be righteousness making haste
as you’re morally rebuked and spiritually accosted
Even if I endure worse
can I withhold a smile
(I ask rhetorically in verse
assuming you'll encounter what you’ve wrought)?
Should the cosmos cause you pain
will you recall your emotional manipulation
and henceforth from indifference and deceit abstain
knowing the consequences are not an aberration?
If you now become the human being
treated with flippant cruelty,
you'll be familiar with the scene
as it’s the same one you’ve acted out so coolly
Oh, to still show empathy
for you when the karmic force
you put in play is sent to thee,
a stand-in for your lack of remorse
Can I hold that higher ground
and exhibit behavior better than hers?
When what goes around comes around
Let me be decent instead of worse!
That’s all for now. The next monthly roundup ought to arrive in subscriber inboxes and appear online in early autumn. Until then, I hope you can soak in and enjoy what remains of summer, you sexy Waywards reader you.