I live a life in recovery and searching my past for clues as to my imprisonment.
I live a life in recovery and searching my past for clues as to my imprisonment. I abstain from trouble and misconduct to truly demonstrate my change. I currently facilitate groups and have published a book titled 25 to Life with a Juvenile Mind in hopes of using my mess for a message. Hopefully my poem will spark conversations about our current structure of punishment and bring reflection.
Climb
I remember watching Jim Carrey’s – Small Heart at the Grinch in disbelief that a heart could shrink
My childish heart empty of hate, hurt and unbelief, there was always space a vast expanse like the galaxy
Shooting stars when I closed my eyes, showers of dancing colors only brought amazement
Inspiration for astrology or geology to investigate the fossils or meteorites
My mind’s eye like a telescope that made me from earth as a device for searching for proof of something more an extraterrestrial goddess
Over tics and tocs my telescope len was shattered by life’s spark plug obscured like a thousand bat swings to a windshield
The vastness of my heart, the third heaven of possibilities The North Star of my purpose disappears evaporates faded into nothingness, concrete circuit boards from a birds-eye view
Point of View
Buildings are reaching out asking for another chance, reminder to my heart of its yearnings to escape the crowded spaces that confine it
I stare in humility at a grey mixture of different minerals that compose the walls that prevent progress like an undocumented immigrant
I ask my heart and mind, How do I return, cross over? But they didn’t know, referred me to the soul the invisible giant always capable never conquerable always wishing and hoping, never doubting
Climb
At first I couldn’t grasp it, like a hand with no thumb, then I closed my eyes
I envisioned my former state, my place of infinite possibilities, a hurricane of former memories blew past the sturdy shack of my mind
As I slowly opened, I was floating, flying, gliding as high as the Empire State Building
So I Climb
Every day is hopeful, every word on paper is positive and every memory an ascension.
