Writing from Inmates at Northwest Correctional Facility, St. Albans VT
This spring, I had the distinct pleasure of leading a fiove-week Writers for Recovery workshop with men incarcerated at the Northwest Correctional Facility in St. Albans VT. The participants in the group showed up, did the hard work of excavating deep emotions and difficult stories, writing down and sharing them, and supporting each other through the process. I wish we could have filmed and shared the whole workshop, as it would give many people about who is in prison and what they can offer the world. Thanks for reading, and don’t hesitate to share or comment!
WHAT REALLY MATTERS
by Anonymous (Northwest Correctional, Swanton, VT)
What really matters....? This is a question I believe at some point everyone on this planet will eventually ask themselves. Although, I would imagine the answer isn't on a Q& A platform, rather one of a personal nature.. So I guess the question is; what really matters to me..? Again, although the question truly is relative in nature correct? Although; straight forward the answers are going to change; so if you are asking me now in my current endeavors I would answer or might answer getting out, loving my son, being present in said son’s life. not using or staying sober.. Although if you'd have asked me this question back in October of 2023 my answer might have been finding my fix, arranging how and what I’d do to find my next one or who and when I'd have to see or hurt or with whom I might have to compromise with to get said fix. Again if you'd have asked me in June of 2008 my retort would have been finding my best friend’s body and getting answers about whether or not he’d survived our drowning and how I was about to proceed with the rest of my life; so what really matters? Well it depends on where one’s at in life and whether or not they're living their BEST LIFE....!!
Why I’m Not Good Enough
by Anonymous (Northwest Correctional, Swanton, VT)
Why I’m not good enough
probably why I was given up
so as a boy I look to the sky with wonder
counting rain drop hearing the thunder
got a little bit older and started to dig
a ditch big enough a ditch so big
that when I put down my shovel and realized
a hole so I large I was buried alive
so I studied others and what I wanted
the girls the drugs all these things
then I started to hide behind a mask
my life started passing by so fast
not knowing where I was headed now
though circling and bending down
I got ready for whatever was to come
whether it be death or sale I still had it
better than some
wishes I saw long ago that a family I had
If I had just saw back than I
wouldn’t be looking back
Why I’m Not Giving Up
by Anonymous (Northwest Correctional, Swanton, VT)
Sad to say there’s no such
thing as luck,
why I’m not giving up.
I’m saved,
set free from sin,
that’s almost enough.
Why I’m not giving up
I have a savior,
His Name Is Jesus
I’m Living in His Love.
Why I’m not giving up
this isn’t my first life
this time I’m doing it right
so I can humbly come out on top.
Why I’m not giving up
I have before,
look where it got me,
A jail sentence,
A kick in the butt.
Why I’m not giving up
my past has strengthened me
I have new opportunities
I have a half full cup.
Why I’m not giving up
I have what’s best
Better than all the rest
My Heavenly Father from above.
Why I’m not giving up
If You Would Only Listen
by Anonymous (Northwest Correctional, Swanton, VT)
If you would only listen—
you might hear a heartbeat.
Maybe yours, mine, the world’s
isn’t that neat?
I you would only listen-
you could hear their cry
“Who’s” you ask
Not yours at least
but if it was—would that be fine
If you would only listen—
I know you could learn.
Wisdom, understanding,
compassion, empathic concern.
If you would only listen—
You could hear God speak
Know Your Purpose
that you’re not worthless
and that He wants to give you peace.
When I Was a Kid
by Anonymous (Northwest Correctional, Swanton, VT)
When I was a kid
I was innocent
I didn’t know right from wrong
Like Adam and Eve
Before sin was born
Making people sing sad songs
When I was a kid
I was hurt every way possible
Don’t be sad, It made me strong
To carry a Love to all
Showing them they can grow
that nothing is impossible
If You Would Only Listen
by Anonymous (Northwest Correctional, Swanton, VT)
If you would only listen you might
hear a voice in the deep
If you would only listen you might hear
me searching for my keep
If you would only listen you might
find me crying alone
If you would only listen you’d fall in
line, one of their drones
If you would only listen you might
understand my heart
If you would only listen you’ll find
the moment at which this did start
If you would only listen you might find
me in my mask
If you would only listen I might stop
looking into the past
If you would only listen you will
understand my quick descent
If you would only listen you might
be able to prevent
If you would only listen I might not
have become myself
If you would only listen you’ll see
me in my hell
When I Get Tired..!
by Anonymous (Northwest Correctional, Swanton, VT)
When I get tired I wonder will I stop
When I get tired it’s when I pop
When I get tired I make bad choices
When I get tired is when I hear all the voices
When I get tired I might bend a knee
When I get tired I no longer am me
When I get tired I lose all control
When I get tired I think of what’s above and below
When I get tired will I stop and listen
When I get tired is when the snake does his hissing
When I get tired you might not like who you see
When I get tired I don’t even recognize me
When I get tired is when I let the evil flow
When I get tired I lose all control
When I get tired of this life will it end
When I get tired will I put down this pen
When I get tired I’m no longer this innocent child
When I get tired I finally rest after all these miles
When I get tired they will lower me into the icy cold ground
When I get tired I no longer be lost but finally found
When I get tired buried below all the sod
When I get tired I’ll finally be before my God
What Really Matters
by Anonymous (Northwest Correctional, Swanton, VT)
To come to America and start a new life with a different view and try to rebuilt your future
What really matters is to get married and find out the person was not the one who you are thinking to building a life with!
What really matters is to try to be a better person if the society treats you different and always makes things hard!
What really matter is now I don’t just feel love for people but for myself.
What really matter is if I die and don’t find peace and love inside me.
When I Was a Kid
by Anonymous (Northwest Correctional, Swanton, VT)
When I was kid always thinking that this
is just something easy when I was kid I
jump to place to place and smile to see what brings so much good to myself and
when I was a kid I never thought that I could grow up and try to be a man and
when I was a kid I smelled flowers in my morning
and brought happiness to other people and
when I was a kid, I never had to change my mind because I was perfect and feeling strong.
When I was a kid judgement was not this
I was always considering only forgiveness, was what I always said
Listen
by Anonymous (Northwest Correctional, Swanton, VT)
Listen about what I have to say and listen to my voice and if you listen you can feel my pain and if you listen you can see things hurt my future. If you listen you can touch my heart and help me to understand. And if you listen you can know where I am come from. And if you listen you will maybe stop trying to change me and try to move with me and find a way to bring me to the light.
I Am From
by Anonymous (Northwest Correctional, Swanton, VT)
I am from Brooklyn where you
have to make a name for yourself in order
to be seen.
I am from a small hood made
up from only four blocks.
I am from where they rap about
the shit that really goes on in the streets.
I am from where you gotta make
it happen on your own, to get what
you want. I am from where
people die before they even become
an adult. I am from where the
police are here to fuck with
you rather than protect you.
Poetic Blue
by Anonymous (Northwest Correctional, Swanton, VT)
Poetic Blue inside her fine lines
Lie the quality of a strong mind
Poetic Blue, Defines a Queen, with goddess-like signs,
An hour glass figure that’s sweeter than a blueberry vine.
Poetic Blue, Within lies a justice, and divine equity.
Built for the future scales.
Poetic Blue. Wisdom becomes hers through
Faith in what she cannot see.
Poetic Blue Justice is Blue and Dripping Hatred So poetically.
Poetic find me sad, fined me happy, find me flowing,
Like a river
Splashing and crushing, twisting and turning toward
The End without Warning
But loved for Creating themes of
Love, Truth, Lips that puff and Hands that Mold. A heart
To a heart, a soul with a Soul.
Poetic old poetic mold. Poetic Wood
Poetic told poetic eyes, Poetic Times
Last Kiss of poetic Words, forever, and
Ever Missed, Poetic Yours
Some Advice From Someone Who Knows
by Anonymous (Northwest Correctional, Swanton, VT)
You never know how things can get
until you end up somewhere you never
expected to be, but always hoped to
reach, and that’s when you receive some
advice from someone who knows.
Things can get real bad if you
don’t take some advice from someone
who knows.
Yet you never know until you’re the
one that’s giving advice
as the person who knows.
Why I’m Not Giving Up
by Anonymous (Northwest Correctional, Swanton, VT)
I have lots of people that look up
to me that’s why I’m not giving up
My sibling and my loved
ones would be crushed by the thought
of me giving up.
I won’t give up
because I know what it’s like
when you achieve what you want when
you push through it
I been through so much just to
get here so why would I give
up.
I always been the strongest
that’s why I’m not giving up.
If You Would Only Listen
by Anonymous (Northwest Correctional, Swanton, VT)
If you would only listen you
would get what I feel inside
If you would only listen you’d
know that you’re the one in which
I confide
If you would only listen you could
tell I truly want you to be mine
If you would only listen without
you I’m running blind
If you would only listen ask me
questions give your opinions just take
the time
If you would only listen the
truth is you’re coming home then
I’d be fine.
When I Was a Kid
by Anonymous (Northwest Correctional, Swanton, VT)
When I was a kid everything was great, mom always had piles of good yummy food on my plate. Visiting grandparents, playing sports, not a care in the world except to throw a ball with my dad in our yard or learn to wrench on my bike with Dad’s tools and show the other neighborhood kids. I was great at fishing and swimming, traveling was fun. Now I’m old and in trouble not so much fun. I wish I could go back to sleepovers and board games and Christmas with my sister, mom and Dad, sliding in the snow. Where my life will end up no one will know.
Penny candy and spending time with my family.
I Am From
by Anonymous (Northwest Correctional, Swanton, VT)
I am from Congo Demoncraticque and
I am from two different families who bring
me to this world with no Love and cry fierce
I am from this big place call Kinshasa where
every people have a right to get to live and find a
way to a better life. No matter what is so difficult,
they try every way they can to reach their
dream. But they always have in mind
that one day the future is going to be offered to them.
I am from this beautiful woman who fought
to get her free life. That was difficult
because she had to decide to live for her
kids and go to prepare a life for them.
So I am from strong people and love.
I WASN'T SURE..?
by Anonymous (Northwest Correctional, Swanton, VT)
I wasn't sure how to be a man
I wasn't sure the tracks in the sand
I wasn't sure if you were real
I wasn't sure if you would listen
I wasn’t sure of the reflecting glisten
I wasn't sure if I was up or down
I wasn't sure if I were the king or the clown
I wasn’t sure why inside felt like an endless pit
I wasn't sure if I truly fit
I wasn’t sure in the beginning
I wasn't sure if I had finished sinning
Wasn’t sure if I should fall
I wasn’t sure if anyone heard my call
I wasn’t sure when my feelings shifted like tectonic plates
I wasn’t sure what it meant these metaphorical internal earthquake
I wasn’t sure how to be okay
I wasn’t sure if I wanted to wake each and every day
I wasn’t sure if you were me or I was you
I wasn’t sure if eternity was true
I wasn’t sure how to push reset
I wasn’t sure if we’d even ever met
I wasn’t sure if I even wanted to do this
I wasn’t sure although I really do wish
I wasn’t sure WHY I WAS
I wasn’t sure SO JUST BECAUSE