Unbarred Words: Works of the Incarcerated
Writers from Folsom Prison
with
Bob Stanley, Traci Gourdine, Sean King, Alexa Mergen, Lawrence Dinkins, Nancy Gonzalez, Graciela Ramirez, Minerva Daniel, and Martha Garcia, and JoAnn Anglin
Monday, Sept. 9 at 7:30 PM
1719 25th Street at SPC
Host: Emmanuel Sigauke
Rolling Shadow, by Carlos
My father’s like a shadow that you can never use for shade.
Hotter than hell in July, attempting to catch it, but it keeps running away.
My father’s like a rolling stone, rolling on down the hill, past the home.
Picking up speed as it goes, so watch it go, and go alone.
Just like a shadow that you can never grasp, but always around
Until dusk, when the sun goes down.
He watched a woman raise his three boys while he stayed away,
So I was left playing soccer by myself day after day.
When he finally showed up, my anger and disappointment went away.
He came bearing gifts, bags of chips, bottles of Yoo-Hoo, and an hour of his time
Then back home when the sun was gone, and shadow blended with the night.
I was left hoping for a moon full and bright
For that’s the only time you see shadows – at night.
Voices — by Kevin
How do I express what needs to be said
With all these voices running through my head?
How the hell do I stay focused and, of course strong
With every thing in my life goin’ completely wrong?
Whose shoulder can I cry on, Who can I turn to
When the walls are closin’ in, and I’ve no clue what to do?
How do I express order with the depression growing inside,
When as a man I’ve been taught to hide behind my pride?
There are things I want to say to myself and to the world,
To my mother, nieces and nephews and especially my little girls,
But for some reasons the words never seem to come out right.
I’m a man, a lonely man, who grows weary of this solo flight.
