Prisoner´s Survival Tactics

Living in a world full of coldness
I couldn´t help but detach myself
From the world outside these walls
As I stand guard and hard
Clenching unto the remaining scraps of my being
Within my balled up fist
Losing all sense of what is right or wrong
Fighting countless of demons,
Being demoralized and epitomized,
Never forgetting to diminish
The consequences of me being chained. 

So, I won´t unleash all my pinned up venomous rage
On the caring few, who still stay true…

Prisons made an animal out of me
At the brink of losing my sanity,
At the brink of losing my stability
At the brink…at the brink…
Hanging on the edge off of a loosely brick.

Survival, truth be told
Is what this is for.
It´s what we´re all fighting for
In this cold prison world.

So, when my hand clenches this pen
Scribbling down whatever comes to my head
What you´re getting is another side of me
The one that can´t be shown here
In this cold, cold world
Where being compassionate and kind
Is a scent of weakness
To the hungry pack of wolves
That reside within this cold, cold world.


When we return to our ancient land

Quando regresemos a nuestra antigua tierra
Que nunca conocimos
Y platiquemos de todas esas cosas
Que nunca han sucedido
Caminaremos llevando de la mano niƱos
Que nunca han existido
Escucharemos sus voces y viviremos
Esa vida de la que tanto hablamos
    Y nunca hemos vivido.
            Daisy Zamora

When we return to our ancient land
Which we never knew
And talk about all those things
That have never happened
We will walk holding the hands of children
Who have never existed
We will listen to their voices and we will live
That life which we have spoken of so often
And have never lived. 
                Daisy Zamora


Manifesting the Obstacles

Metal fences, metal bars, metal doors, metal bunks,
Metal chains, metal handcuffs, metal stools,
Metal locks, metal sinks and metal toilets
Metal everywhere I look
In everything I touch.
Hard, cold, smooth steel,
Strong...and transitional metal. 
Stands solid and shines brilliantly.
Never thought that it would be my life. 
That if you cut me, I´d bleed metal molecules
But it´s true. 
It surrounds me, it consumes me!
And with due time, I became as smooth as it is,
As hard as it is and as strong as it is.
Standing solidly. 
In this cold metal steel world of mine,
Hoping to shine brilliantly
And radiate the joys of living 
Despite this life full of metal substances.


Humanities Warrior

I’ve been called a revolutionist,
A soldier, warrior of life’s struggles,
And a rebel with a cause…
A man who upholds his morals;
Opposes unjust laws and the
Discrimination of all…
One that gears up when the time is just
Ready to defend what I define.
Marked by scars of old battles
I’m committed to say the least.
The armor I carry
Won’t stop bullets nor spears

And the weapons of my choice
Are my trusty pen, mind and fist!!
For every one of my confrontations
Is a life and death situation
So losing isn’t optional,
Without really giving it my all.
For this battle I fight
Depends on the humanity of all. 


Ghetto Child

They call me a ghetto child
Because I come from the streets
The streets of dirt-filled roads
And homemade tortillas.
The sound of my speech
Has a funny ring
What´s with me adding a Spanish word
Every now and then when I speak.

We´re in thee America, they say,
Speak thy English!
As if I haven´t noticed,
With the big buildings and fancy cars.

The way I dress isn´t cool or hip,
It´s too raggedy they say.
But how else am I supposed to dress?
`Old School´they call it,
Too cheap and not enough bling bling.

Did they forget I´m a ghetto child?
I like the simple things.
Catch on, they say,
To which I reply:
There´s nothing to catch on to,
I´d rather be the ghetto child
That I am.
Living my simple life,
Trying to make ends meet.

That´s living poor, they yell,
But it´s the only way I know how to live
And I wouldn´t change it for a thing.

Ghetto child!! Ghetto child!!
There goes the ghetto child
Walking with his head held high and mighty,
Wearing the most raggedy things.

They chant and I smile joining in.
Yes, that be me!
Perplexed they stand
Not knowing what else to say
So I let them be, as I walk my streets
Living my life, as a ghetto child.
Yes, that be me!

Keep Envisioning

Look around you…
What do you see?
Do you see what I see?
Can you tell,
That you’re not alone.
That you can still hope
Beyond your wildest dreams.
Can’t you see it?
Really see,
That behind everyone’s eyes
There lies a grand dream.
You’re not the first
To have stopped wishful thinking
Or wishful hoping.
Everyone stumbles in this life.
Look around you.
We all bear our scars
But we continue on
Dreaming of a better world.
Can you see it now?
Then grab hold of your dream
For they really can become a reality.


Swimming in our struggles

Swimming, in the powerful waves,
With so many obstacles
Blocking our way.
We’ve fought and struggled
Fighting against all the current’s strength
To break through the waves.
Keeping what we have
Untouched and unharmed
By our determinate ways.
Our trials and tribulations set the pace,
But we make the final decisions
To continue on
Swimming in our fretful waves.


Death Row’s Empty Eyes

Have you ever looked into the eyes of a man on death row?
The word ‘Empty’ does it no justice.
They seem dark and hollow, as if their light has been extinguished!
Their hopes and dreams, crushed and non-existent
Like puppets they walk
With two guards pulling their chains.
It’s sad, isn’t it?
It only takes one caring person
To bring light into someone’s abyss,
One caring person’s letter and friendship
To cause someone to dream and hope,
One person’s smile to switch on the light in one’s eyes!
For I know this all too well,
For I was one of those men with empty eyes
Until someone’s caring words and smiles
Brought light into my life.