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.

Happy Holidays

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 niños

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!

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.

Metal!

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. 

Metal!

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?

Yet…

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.