Monday, September 30, 2013


he is alone. surrounded by teenage animals, their teeth bared. they want his blood. they run toward destruction. he wishes he was home, away from the chaos, but tonight he will feel terror.

haiku 5

kings in castles die
a tree also rots in time
words and deeds live on


Talked to Doctor today about plans for release and about my penchant for sarcasm. We talked about how cynicism is a good thing. 

Later listened to some confusing mumbo-jumbo about the "hip-hop illuminati". Sometimes I feel bad for people, other times I have to be amused. 

Sent correspondence to Public Defender's office in regards to parole...why not, what can it hurt?

Began The Book Thief by Markus Zusak. 

An Angel

The first thing you must understand is that I cannot describe her beauty. I can conjure it in my mind, I can feel it. But I can only give you an approximate translation. 

We were children when I knew that I would love her forever, we were adults when I knew that we could never be together. Not in the way other couples were together. Our lives would intersect at various points. Our eyes would meet, our bodies and souls intertwined temporarily. But in the end our separate paths would, of course, separate. We would go parallel. 

She looked like an Angel to me. Dark honey glow, amber eyes and loose ringlets framing her face; a halo of black from her Thai mother and Black father. 

She knew something about everything. Her hands adept at creation. 

She is the only woman in the world.


Scrabble with Dirtbike.

Amused by Russia and Snowden.

Engulfed in Bradbury's Dandelion Wine, what an awesome book. 

End Transmission.

Patti Smith (dream)

Patti Smith and I are driving around some small town. In the dream we are lovers, she is not famous. We end up at a mansion and eat a bunch of methadone. She is beautiful stoned. 

Practice Beyond Study

Here is my biggest hurdle with compassion: I am by nature a solitary person. I do enjoy interaction, but honestly, I enjoy it when it is limited. I enjoy quiet, I enjoy time to myself. 

Compassion will be eventual. Sivali says I need to practice it with myself before I can practice it with others. 

I cannot afford to cheat myself of life experience by isolating. I have wasted enough time in life. I am studying Dhamma, now to practice it..and I can't very well practice it alone.

Zack Frobe

Frobe passed away last week. The usual culprit, heroin, was his killer. People are speculating about his doesn't matter, the kid is in the ground. 

I met Frobe in 2010/11 when I was in BCP. He was young and inexperienced. He wanted to fit it. We were not friends at first. 

Frobe was back in, or still in, when I came back in Sept 2011. We did close to 90 days together that time. We were on D Pod, then A Pod. This is when we became friends. 

He reminded me much of myself at his age. He felt put upon and at odds with a world he didn't fully understand. I gave him a copy of Catcher in the Rye...he not only enjoyed it, but he understood it. I think he related to Holden because he loved his own sisters so much. 

I can proudly say that Frobe was my friend. He made me laugh and I will miss him. I hope he found a moment of peace before he died, he deserved it.

Beginning the Second Composition Book


Beginning my 16th month in Butler County Prison. I am committed to making this time valuable. I refuse to let this be lost time. If Frankl could find some meaning to life in the concentration camps then I, who have it infinitely easier, can surely turn this time into gold.

I have been going to NA meetings for a couple weeks now, NA is really my spiritual foundation and it is a relief to once again be part of them. I go to Catholic religious conversion, I just dig the people who bring it in. They are kind people and very positive. I have also moved forward with my Buddhist studies. I am more sure-footed with the Dhamma than I have been with any other path.

My mood is overall good. I am tired, mentally and physically...I practice compassion but am still intolerant of some things. And I am ok with this...there are somethings that people should not tolerate. I am looking forward to solitude in the months ahead. I have a few friends but still enjoy being alone. Have decided to give celibacy a shot when I get out...I'll be living at my Mom's when I do get out, whether I max out or get that will help. 

I've been journaling for over a year, I feel accomplished. A---X S-----X exposed to me the fact that my writing got the attention of the prison administration. This pleases me, it is inspiration.

End of First Composition Book


In the past 15 months I have experienced a lot and would like to think that I have come out a better person because of it. Fleet Maul was correct in comparing jail to monastery life and in calling it a Hell Realm, it is both, but one's mind is largely responsible for how one perceives it. For me, it is a monastery in Hell. I'm ok with this...of course I'd be even more ok with being released, but this is now and at the present I live in Hell. 

I have read a handful of books that helped to keep me sane or taught me new perspectives or shared wisdom. Simon Wiesenthal, Alan Moore, Langston Hughes, Viktor Frankl, Hubert Selby, Allen Ginsberg, Jackson Katz, Howard Zinn, HH Dalai Lama, Henry Rollins, Dr Phillip Zimbardo, Jerry Stahl, HH Srila Prabhupada & John Joseph all deserve nods at this time.

I have seen a few old friends and made a few new ones.I continue to be blessed to encounter such good people in my life.

I have had the opportunity to communicate with my daughters, and hopefully to heal my relationship with them. I have been able to communicate and heal with my mother...and after all where would I be without her?

I have regularly attended therapy for over a year...longer than ever in my life. My Doctor is honest, and she is kind. She has helped to illuminate some dark areas with me.

I have also been corresponding with Sivali for over a year, he is also a kind and honest teacher. He shares freely his knowledge of the Dhamma of Buddha. 

And Buddha...thousands of years ago a man, not a god, not a myth, came to some realizations. He shared them with his all these centuries later his philosophy is practical and applicable in day to day life...You want to get rid of some of the bullshit in your life? Ask me about Buddhism sometime and we'll see what we can do. 

I have been drug free for 15 months. 

To bring this 15 months of my life to a close I want to leave you with words of the Buddha:

"Not through hating hatred ceases, in this world of tooth and claw
Love alone from hate releases, this is the eternal law. 

end transmission

haiku 4

an undercurrent
a feeling of unknowing
diamonds turn to dust

haiku 3

walls can't bind a thought
the future never arrives
we all live in tombs

haiku 2

time will always pass
cold and dark will go away
no one cheats the sun

Suzie Ayers(Richards)

We, being my mother and I, lived with Suzie and her husband Chuck when I was about a year old. Of course I don't remember this but I am bound to Suzie the way I am bound to my family. Her children are like my own long lost siblings. Suzie was somewhere between an aunt and a co-mother to me. 

When I think of Suzie I think of understanding and empathy. I think of her soft eyes and how she radiated love. How she loved me when I didn't love myself. 

haiku 1

even demons smile
alone we seek Nirvana
never looking back

The OM Man


When I was in Rockville there was a man referred to as the "OM Man". He was aloof in nature, unkempt. Here and there he would shoot pool, but more often he would just sit under a tree chanting the holy syllable, hence his nickname. 

The winter after I arrived in Rockville the OM Man jumped in front of a metro train at the Rockville station. 

I wonder who he was, where he was from. Why was he in Rockville?What did he do aside from chant? When did he learn to chant and from who and why?

His rhythm affected my own. I wonder who will be affected by my rhythm when I leave.

Keeping a Distance

Sometimes I think my time is best spent alone. Even when practicing compassion I limit my interactions. Sort of the Muslim idea of avoidance. Yes, I recognize that all people deserve happiness. I wish happiness to all people everywhere...but today I'll do it at a distance. 

Not A Kid Anymore


I'm not a kid anymore. I've seen too much to describe myself as such. My mind is settling, beginning to know things instead of just thinking them. I have been through change. Love and Violence. Hope and Loss.

I have two daughters who are no longer children. My greatest legacy, my most significant footprint rests with them. 

I can still laugh.

John Gustin III

My thoughts keep returning to John Gustin. I miss him and I regret that the last time we spoke was at the beginning of my bonehead years and that I said some bonehead shit that made no sense. 

I looked him up one year when MJ and I took the kids to Clevo for Christmas...I never called him.

I finally called his mom's number years later when I was in Meadville. His mom told me that he died. I was too high to process this...and I continued to get high. John was the best friend that anyone could ask for. He was a mentor to me and a teacher. I will never forget him or have another friend like him. 


the Dalai Lama says that internal change occurs through:

1. education

2. determination/enthusiasm
3. effort

Buddhism 101

The Three Jewels

The Buddha, The Dharma, and The Sangha

Four Noble Truths

1. In life there is suffering
2. The root of suffering is attachment
3. Attachment can be rooted out
4. The Eightfold Path is the way to end attachment and suffering.

Eightfold Path

1. Right View-embracing Dharma
2. Right Resolve-aspiring to develop Right Intention
3. Right Speech-say what is true, necessary and nice
4. Right Action-abstain from wrong behavior
5. Right Livelihood-avoiding occupations that harm others
6. Right Effort-keeping positive mental attitude
7. Right Mindfulness-develop clear perception
8. Right Concentration-learn art of meditation

10 Precepts

1-5 for laity as well as monks and nuns/6-10 for monks and nuns

1. No Killing             6. No Inappropriate Eating
2. No Stealing           7. No Participating in/attending Singing, Dancing or Theater
3. No Unchastity       8. No Decorative Accessories
4. No Lying               9. No Luxurious Bedding or Furnishing
5. No Intoxicants      10 .No Possession of Silver or Gold

Gears Ground July 2013

After session with Doctor, don't feel like writing. Cell feels small. I am not happy or comfortable. 

G Baby went to the hole. 

Trayvon Martin's killer walks free, no surprise.

When I tattoo'd FTW on my neck I meant it and I still do. 

I just want to be left alone. 

Give me my friends, family and some shit job with no responsibilty. 

Give me coffee, cigars, my ipod and some stale bread to toss to birds. 

You know what grinds my gears? You, America. Fuck you.


Wake up. The room is silent. Outside there are random cars passing but no noise to speak of. 

You're soaked with sweat, blankets and pillows damp. You're also freezing. Your guts haven't tied themselves into knots yet...but they will. 

You instinctively begin to panic. But lucky you, you clever saved two bags for the morning. They smile at you from the night stand. 

Your body relaxes just at the sight of them. You will sleep a little longer before you shoot up. Sopranos season 3 repeating on the DVD player. 

You'd be better off dead. 


Dominoes. Chaos. my element. This I can grasp. G is still here...after a dusty hand we murdered the dominoes table. Tonight we were crowns to bed. I'll miss G when he leaves. 

It was good to talk to Poppin Taggz, I missed him on my excursion to A Pod. 

Tonight I sleep in silence. I don't see anymore moves. Admin made their point and so did I. I am satisfied to be back on D Pod. 

Untitled Poem

The end is nearing,
the moment you're fearing, 
the concrete and steel that you find so endearing. 

Your system is bleeding, 
herd scattered and bleating, 
the monster you reared is growing and feeding.

Political Prisoners

There are two types of political prisoners. The first is a prisoner jailed for his belief or politically motivated action. The second is the prisoner in jail for actual crimes who realizes that all incarcerated people are political prisoners in that they are fodder for the prison industry's engine.

In Contempt of Court

Websters has 3 definitions of the word contempt: 1. The act of despising, 2. The state of being despised, and 3. Disobedience to or open disrespect of a court or legislator.

It is humorous and contemptible to me that the courts are so sensitive as to make despising them a punishable act. How can an institution that participates and justifies imprisonment of non-violent criminals, sometimes participates in torture, murder and wrongful imprisonment set a precident to protect it from being despised?

I do have contempt for the court and the whole system...Should I be jailed for 6 months? Would that teach me a lesson? Would it make society a better place? How about a fine? Would some of my money make it all better? 

I absolutely despise the court system. I despise it because I love justice. Because I am an idealist. Because I hold some hope. 

I have seen child molesters get probation while people who break probation rules, NOT LAWS, go to jail for years. I've seen people buy lighter sentences. I've seen nepotism and the worst effects of the old boys club. I've seen blatant abuse of power. Verbal, physical, psychological and sexual abuse. (If it doesn't apply don't be offended).

This is just local, just one county from my eyes. 

I am guilty. I have open and disrespect for the court and the system that supports it. 

Sue me.

An Unethical Abyss

"I don't have a crystal ball, but I have a theory just how far the county government (Butler County)has regressed into an unethical abyss."



Have I mentioned how little I like chatter? I can't stand it...where do they find these people?Blah, blah, blah. I'll never understand people's need for constant noise. Shut up.

Untitled Song 2013

I have nothing left to say
Nothing left to say to you
No time left for the games
Don't want to see your face

I'm done screaming at the wall
I know it won't lead anywhere at all

I'm not throwing blame at you
I know you've had it hard
But its the best that I can do
I just have to move  on

Move on

Eulogy for John Brown

"It seems as if no man had ever died in America before, for in order to die you must have first lived. These men, in teaching us how to die, have at the same time taught us how to live."

-Henry David Thoreau's eulogy for John Brown and Company in Boston

Helen Keller and Cognitive Dissonance

"People do not like to think. If one thinks, one must reach conclusions. Conclusions are not always pleasant."

-Helen Keller

Cognitive Dissonance is modifying one's opinions to coincide with one's actions. 

Think Dr. Zimbardo's dehumanization, deindividuation ideas in Lucifer Effect. 

Hotel Room

I need a hotel room
A hotel room on the road
For one weekend
Nothing else
No drugs, no women, no excitement
Just a weekend in a hotel on the road


The machine is not kind
It is unaware of all
Except it's own purpose
Consume, consume, consume

A Few Stats

The U.S. has 5% of the world's population and 37% of it's prison population. 

We live in a country where even law abiding citizens could be charged with 3 felonies daily. 

 90% of U.S. cases are won by plea agreement...Lets talk about plea agreements for a quick minute. A plea agreement is usually a lesser charge that the prosecutor offers the defendant in return for a guilty plea...this saves the county money and potentially gives the defendant a lesser sentence. Heres the problem...before pleading guilty the judge asks if the defendant has been coerced, if anyone has promised him anything, to which the defendant is supposed to say "no". But isn't this the opposite of the truth? 

We live in a country where a ham sandwich could be indicted. 

Don't take my word for it...look this shit up yourself.


This has all ceased to be amusing. It is not that time in this jail is hard in the conventional sense. Its not dangerous, the food is edible, its clean. But this place is clinical, efficient in it's pettiness. It is purposely dehumanizing. Jail exists to enforce class division, beating people into submission and subservience. Don't question authority or else. 

It is a tight line I walk. I will not question the validity of my outlook. I have been open minded enough I think but my own point is proven again and again. Power corrupts. Period.  My eyes have been wide open for years. 

Remember V's dialogue with Lady Justice? I'm there. 

Untitled Poem

I remember when my eyes were clean 
Before this old and polished sheen
Before the loss of lucid dreams
Bright blue sky, vagabond scene

I remember when my heart still bled
When I could still feel fear and dread
Before lackadaisical indifference bred
An unmovable, unchanging head

June 1st Mom's Birthday

Today is my Mom's birthday. When I think of my Mom I think of the road. Highway between Pennsylvania and North Carolina, between Louisiana and Ohio, Ohio to Maryland, Florida to Pennsylvania. Tourist attractions and motels, campsites and fast food. 

I hold these memories close. 

She opened up those roads for me. That travel is an option, there is a world out there. 

There were other lessons too, but the road is key to all else. 

Happy Birthday, Gypsy Womyn!!

Dream (5-28-13)

I am in an unrecognizable city. Its overgrown with vegetation and there is a lot of graffiti. I am walking with a Hindu woman...telling her that this is where I relax, walking through this area.


Everyone should experience a beatdown at least once in life. I don't mean just losing a fight. I mean a beating so bad that you experience true and real fear. It reminds you that you are mortal, gives humility and strangely builds confidence. Loco, thank you for liberating me from fear.Rest well.

Langston Hughes

"As long as one
Man is in chains
No man is free"

-Langston Hughes

Intra Muros (inside the walls)

Sometimes I'll run into a guard that I haven't seen in awhile. They'll ask "How much longer you got?" No one expects my answer-over a year. Their smile fades, their eyes drop. They know the damage this place can do. Dehumanization, disillusionment, insanity. They have seen the process, they know and they are not immune. This environment is made to break spirits. And break spirit it does...the guards have it easier than we do, they can go home after 8 hours but over a span of years it breaks their spirit too.

The secret is keeping parts of yourself hidden. You cannot let the walls take who you are.

You will not see me dead-eyed-broken at the end of this. I have survived worse and remain unbroken. I live in the state that is trying to kill Mumia. I am captive to a county that used to host Klan rallies on the steps of their court house...not 50 years ago, 10 years ago. My outlook is grim in the short term, but bright in the long term.

Someday my body will be dust. Just like this building, just like all my fellow captives...just like anyone who was ever "just following orders", But when I am dust, won't I be remembered fondly for some good? This Building will be remembered, if at all, for it's useless, archaic cruelty.


Nick came and left, McKaniggit is gone.

I don't really feel anything. Still numb. Still seeing the negative despite a change in view. Its hard to be positive when you are in a Hell Realm.

Idiot Olympics.

Letter from Mary A today.

I want reality to manifest to these people. Smack these sheep in their little sheep faces. More than that, I look forward to the head sheep leaving, for the body to ever see a solitary lemming?

I am a real and true lion, a Baba. I have been through war on the street, in my head, spiritually. I had seen more by the age of 16 than these jokers will see in 100 years. Give it up, you aren't impressing anyone.

Taking A Different Approach

Time to shut the nonsense out. I understand the doctor "How do you apply Buddhism to your life?" To apply Buddhism to my life I must be mindful of my thoughts and actions, keep my intentions right, do good and refrain from bad, etc. What did I learn from Frankl's beek? Perspective. I am worth this madness. Also sometimes humans are unhappy. That is the nature of life. Dukka. I have no hang ups about it; I am in jail...of course I am unhappy of the time. If I had a good time in here all the time that would mean that I was insane. From here on out, I will be mindful of myself and the situation. I can't waste time on negativity.


I am tired of repetition like I am sick of falseness. Conniving dregs. Weakness pours out of them. They talk and joke and all I hear is weakness. They ape bravado and I see cowardice. I am glad to be separate, almost alone. 

RANT 5-13-13

You've mistakes my tolerance for interest. 

All of the nonsense in your skull seems to be spilling out of your word-hole.

I know, you are the toughest person ever. 

Yes, you have done a lot of drugs. 

Of course, you are the alpha-male-fuck-beast-rapist. 

I bet your parents are proud. 

Cliche'. You know whats worse than cliche'? Jail cliche'. 

Its the Idiot Olympics and everyone is really going for the gold right now. 

Adults imitating each other. 

The weak seek to latch on to a stronger personality...but 9 out of 10 times the host is as pathetic as the parasite. 

I don't want the guards to like me. 

I don't want comfort. 

Spread 'Em and Cough

Ever see a prison film? They always do an obligatory intake strip search routine. You know: "Bend over, spread your cheeks, cough. Welcome to Hell, scumbags!!" Though this excersize DOES serve a purpose, it is definitely NOT to find contraband.

From experience, they yield nothing & I have been through many of these searches. As much of an uncomfortable topic as this is I think that having the knowledge, I have a responsibility to share. So, heres some science...

I have smuggled tobacco into Butler County Prison on many occasions. I have, in fact squatted, spread cheeks, and coughed as requested by the staff...The search was unfruitful despite the tobacco I had packaged and lodged in my lower colon. I have complete confidence that people cough everyday without disastrous results. 

If I, a humble college drop-out, can come to the conclusion that coughing does not equal a bowel movement then surely correctional professionals are privy to this knowledge. Further, if I (and they) are aware of this then why continue this vile exercise? Two words, kids, Power and Control. 

This is not a matter of finding is a matter of establishing control. If your interaction with jail staff begins with such a degrading act then it is easier for staff to dehumanize you, easier for them to look at you as less than human...conversely it does the same to the captive, makes them feel less then and prone. 

I want to be fair at this point. It is not the guards but the administration that instates such things. I hardly think that a working stiff would intentionally want to look at someone's rectum...I am sure it is as degrading for them as it is for their captives. And I will go as far as to say that the guards probably don't even know that these searches are useless other than establishing the illusion of dominance. This is an admin decision, not a guard decision.

I challenge admin to stop this process that degrades both captive and guard. 

I am in a bad place. Irritable much of the time. Isolated by my mind. I don't want to hear their bullshit. I don't care about how many drugs you've done, I don't care about your past. I don't your racism or sexism amusing.

I am not one of "you".

I am a punk rock kid, a graffiti writer from the city. I am a beatnik. I am a Buddhist. I am a vegetarian.

I have never killed Bambi. I've never stolen copper to feed a crack habit.

Shut up.

Gospel of Eugene Debs

",,,while there is a lower class, I am in it; while there is a criminal element, I am of it; while there is a soul in prison, I am not free."


And then came a crash. I feel nothing right now. Sensory overload or deprivation? Who cares. A pathetic anger creeps but keeps a distance. Reality materializes and disappears. I am floating. Not Buddha or Frankl or HR or Alexander Supertramp can save me. 


You know how when you are a kid people always tell you that time flies as you get older? I'm there. 12 years ago I witnessed the birth of you younger daughter, Ireland. Life has not been easy for her...but she is strong and I believe in her-she will endure and be stronger yet. Happy Birthday grrrlie.

Dustin Beck

10 years ago you committed suicide, you decided to leave this world...I won't judge you or pretend to know how you felt. You did what you did and it was your decision to make.

A lot has happened since you left. Both jess and I have been out of jail, Maryjane lost the kids, Ireland lives at my moms.

I think about you a lot, Jess took me to your burial site...I was high on suboxone. 

I wrote a couple verses about you.

If I could communicate with you I would tell that your life and death affected me. 

Sleep peacefully little brother.


Invictus Day

This whole thing in Boston freaked me out...

Finished reading Meat is for Pussies. Good work, Bloodclot is an inspiration. He says in the book that everything starts with yourself. We have to create change...Not by bitching but by doing right, setting an example. 

Sunday, September 29, 2013

My Search for Meaning

After reading Viktor Frankl's Man's "Search for Meaning" I have decided to change my attitude about my captivity. If he could survive the Holocaust, come out into the world and do his thing then I can come out of this mess a better person for my experience. Being the kind of person that can survive anything helps. I've dealt with my trials  and over all I am bloody but unbowed.

My situation hasn't changed, it cannot...but maybe my attitude can. 

Viktor Frankl is tha MAN!!

An Obituary 4-15-13

Judy Phillips is dead, long live Judy Phillips. A few days ago I saw her obituary in the paper. I met this woman 17 years ago. 

To say that we were friends or that I even liked her would be a lie. She was a miserable, spiteful being. My first interaction with her involved her calling Shirley Temple a "little cunt" and stating how much she hates her...Not that I am a giant Shirley Temple fan, but you get my point.

I would bump into her around Butler sometimes. I have nothing nice or redeeming to say about her...I just thought I'd mention her death out of respect.

Invisible Kid 1

He walks to school everyday. Alone he walks through the concrete, graffiti, and broken glass. Though he lives in a warzone, he is in no danger; he is invisible to everyone. He walks with his head down hoping to go unnoticed for just a few more minutes, just one more day.


Determined to make this time mean something. I have to take it all in and use it.

Why haven't I committed suicide yet? Because there is too much to do. Two daughters who barely know me, who I love but am absent from due to the outlaw life I live...separated by by jail. I have a family that has had my back from day one. I have to be there for my family. I have to be there for my crew and my friends. There are books to write, places to see. A legacy to leave to my daughters. 

Dito Montiel told me never let anything get in the way of creating art. You want to make film but you have no money? Make it happen. You want to publish? Write and make it happen. I have a wellspring of knowlege and experience...I just need to capitalize. 


I do not live in such a lofty world where enemies do not exist. 

I wish I did. 

I imagine that world is a nice place. You are born & raised in one place. You marry your high school sweetheart, have a litter of young facsimiles of yourself. You have a job you love & get together with your coworkers for a couple cold ones after work on Friday. Maybe a cop shows up to get an elderly neighbor's cat out of a tree. High school & college reunions. Vacations. You believe your vote counts.

This is not the world I live in. 

Where I live the power structure is blind, insane chaos. Indifferent at best, predatory at worst. Power corrupts. Military & Prison industry and culture woven into our way of life. I know pain and death intimately. I have seen the best people jump into graves with needles in their arms. I have seen that western culture is a facade. 

I dream of other more peaceful and reasonable places...but as the good book says: Dreams is just dreams.


Remember Tony Soprano's dialogue with his doctor about how his paranoia had nothing to do with the fact that people were out to get him? Or the way that if a robber makes a store clerk believe that he is armed that he can be charged with armed robbery, gun or no gun? It all comes down to perception.

Maybe, and I am being more generous than I should, my captors are not maniacal powerwhores, as I see them. Yes, sometimes one acts human...sometimes. Sometimes my perception changes.

My point being: Yes I have a problem with authority. No I do not generally like people who wear badges to work. That doesn't change the fact that these people have an audacious attitude of infallible dominion. 

And maybe pain is unavoidable, while suffering is avoidable. Maybe these situations are more about my attitude than about my captor's behavior...Maybe. But the twitch in my eye, theres no other way to percieve that.


Been down almost a year my mood is desolate. I am disconnected, easily angered, intolerant. 

Frankenstein's Monster

Quote from Mary Shelley's book:

"I will revenge my injuries; if I cannot inspire love, I will cause fear, and chiefly toward you, my arch-enemy, because my creator, do I swear inextinguishable hatred. Have a care; I will work at your destruction...I will desolate your heart, so that you shall curse the hour of your birth."

Saturday, September 28, 2013

Carl Dream

I am sitting in Peabody's with Carl. The club is empty...just me and him, we're listening to a Bad Brains record. I start crying, telling him that I miss him...that shit is hard. I tell him that I don't usually take death so harshly. He tells me its all good. He says that he is at peace and that all pain subsides.


Going through a housing project looking for revenge. I catch up to the guy I'm looking for. He's with his wife, she starts begging for him...some real sappy pleading shit. I ignore her and proceed to pounding him around the parking lot.


Ireland is struggling. Wish I could do more...all I can be now is an ear, a letter in the mail. I sent her some meditation techniques. Not really sufficient for what she's going through but its all I got. 

Mom had two heart stents. Says she is not happy to be on blood thinners, but that they may give her more endurance. 

Increasing feminist viewpoint. That Jackson Katz book was a game changer. Been in a couple heated discussions.

Let Catholics bless me. I need it.


Last night Walking Dead was great. Hershel's diatribe about tyrants was awesome. Referring to the Governor: "There were always people like him, and there always will be." Indeed. Takers, holy and royal parasites.

Doctor thinks I see things in black and white, that I need to change my thinking patterns. I know I don't want to be numb. I don't want a crutch. I just want to live and be left alone. FTW.

Columbine Dream(3-23-13)

I'm at Columbine High. There are outcast kids congregated around this memorial. It's a garden letters on white granite. Some redneck jumps out of a truck and starts harassing the kids. I punch him in the mouth and he runs away. 



Worm left, Tone is on his way out. I watch people come and go. I'm a rock in a stream. Jimmy is dead. Carl is dead. I am in purgatory. Cursed brilliant among blessed fools. My twitch is worse. My memory is getting better but my eyesight is getting worse. 

jail cliche' 1

I see people so desperate for attention and I am baffled. I desire the opposite. I desire isolation. I wouldn't want to be accepted into a herd. 

Couldn't stand conversations today...typical false posturing. Everyone in here is the toughest tough guy ever, real chauvinist rape beasts. As if these malformed idiots could hold conversation with a real woman, let alone bed one. What a joke. 

Tuesday, September 24, 2013


Fat hung yourself in the Colonial 4 years ago. Fuck man, could't you see another way out?

Jimmy Sullivan


Jimmy Sullivan passed away. Thats putting it lightly; he was beaten to death by a gang of cowards in a bar parking lot in Kittanning. 

Jimmy was a good friend, a good man. In all the years I knew him I have seen him stop more fights than most bouncers...He just had a good heart, he wanted people to "eat, drink and be merry". His smile light up every dark barroom he'd ever been in. 

Another rhythm gone that we can't get back.

Good bye Seamus!! 


Rwanda. The Olympics are being held there because there has been some radical political change. It is one of the richest countries, modern and clean...with military police with automatic weapons on every corner.

I am there as a journalist, the only western journalist, to cover the Olympics. Instead of covering the Olympics I meet up with the leader of a revolutionary movement and she says she'll give me an interview and a look at the real Rwanda...

We drive and she points out labor camps, execution spots, police beating citizens. She shows me the rebel villages where people live in self-government. They are happy. 

Back in the city we are overlooking a McDonalds, and she says to me:

"We don't want this. We don't want new, we want old. We don't need money, we need our life."

Zombie Dream(@ last)

I am running through a field killing zombies. I a professional, surgical with my weapons, a 44 cal. and a ball bat. Once the field is clear I am surrounded by some sort of tactical swat team. I get the feeling that they are going to kill me and try to take credit for my kills. (kills equal money in the dream).

I pull a gun from my waist and start slaughtering the team. I make my way to their base camp, filled with cop and army types. I kill a handful and take a ranking officer hostage, negotiating with the head in charge...I am taunting him, telling him he's crazy to think that they can rebuild a civilization. I say "We're going back to caveman anarchy, motherfucker. There is nothing you can do to stop it."

I tell him I want to talk to his handler. After some bluffing on his part he obliges me. To my surprise, his handler is a woman. She is beautiful in a plain way. She irate that the camp allowed me to slaughter their team and more irate that they lead me to her. 

"Leave." I say to her. "Just leave. Take nothing from the camp, just leave and I won't kill everyone here."

She knows this is a bluff...there are way too many of them at this point, but she orders the troops to clear out. As she's leaving she says to me "Re-establishment of the U.S. is inevitable."  I tell her that she is a delusional mess.

As the soldiers clear out, my people come out of the woods and settle into the camp.

Solitary Confinement

Rolling Stone issue 1171 12/6/12

Article about solitary confinement in R/S was haunting. You go into a constant state of anxiety, adrenal gland out of whack, making you ready for action while your frontal cortex atrophies, making your decision making process go all caveman. Your sight gets bad, ocular muscles atrophy from not focusing on distance. 

If a psychologist knows this, prison keepers know this.

For Carl

Echoes of Rancid/Coming from my living room
Everybody else is sleeping/But I'm in the bathroom with you
Sirens in the distance/The needle chase the pain away
All I got in this is chaos/But I'm glad to share it with you my friend

Tragic Hero (dream)

There is a super hero, he is old & used up. Unwanted. He clings to a dead belief system. He goes through the motions...fighting lame villains, getting cats out of trees, autographs at super market openings. 

In the dream I am sitting on a scratchy old plaid couch in one of those cheap desert rentals in California. I am watching a news report about the demise of the hero. 

The dream flips and I am in an urban courtyard. There are three fat little goth kids observing a grave...they look animated, like they came from a Tim Burton film. When they see me they whisper to each other and scurry off. I see they were looking at the grave of the tragic hero. 

A Change of Heart?

I'm done. I submit.
Now, I want my blue suit and red tie.
I want shiny leather shoes, made from the skin of prostitutes.
I want immunity from the law.
Unbridled entitlement.
I want an NRA membership.
I want a house made of ivory.
I want a subservient robot wife.
Just gimme.
Deep fried eagles.
Roast panda.
I wanna, wanna, wanna.
I wanna build my own prison.
Fuck poetry.
Fuck art.
I want afternoon cocktails
and I won't leave a tip.
I want a landfill of dead eastern european hookers.
I'll choke every last Indian to death,
and the Native Americans while I'm at it.
I am so witty.

This is the beginning of a beautiful relationship.

Are You a Guard or a Porn Star? (rock of love)

I know you. Or at least I know your type. You put a lot of stock into facade...of course you have no idea what that means. You are empty. If we met at a bar you would tell me that you enjoy things that you think I'd enjoy. You would be wrong. You have no idea how absurd you look. Yes, I did notice you...the same way I'd notice a clown juggling chainsaws at a funeral. You make me sick.

To Allen Ginsberg

Holy, holy, holy...But we've gone down that road already too many times. Allen, exalted Father of The Word-where exactly do you live now that I need you so badly? I think you are selfish to disappear. Who will spy on old poets at the grocery? Who will bleed scorn and spit porn at our Venal States of the Amerika? Do you think I'm child like to chase you still? An undisciplined ghetto youth and some mystic Hebrew faggot? I will retire to the wilds and always commune with you in my insulated chaos.

Free Advice to an Over Zealous Guard

Ok, Bonaparte...I have an idea, I know your intellect is limited at best but stay with me. 

Build a time machine, it is possible-Google it. Upon completion, I want you to travel back to the 1970's and buy a high caliber hand gun...any kind will do, I can't do all your thinking for you. 

Once acquiring said firearm, I want you to place it in your mouth and pull the trigger. 

Thank you.

end transmission 

Control Through Disunity

From the journal of a slave owner in early American Colonies :

"Only one fear was greater than the fear of black rebellion in the new American colonies. That was the fear that discontented whites would join the black slaves and overthrow the existing order."

Institutional racism was formulated from the beginning to control all people. The masters at the table throw poor whites just enough scraps to keep them loyal...keeping the illusion that they too will sit at the table eventually. Bollocks-big, fat, bouncing bollocks.

Searching for Meaning

We're all lost & searching...from the junkie to the priest to the cop to the nurse. We are all floating through this mess of existence trying to define it and our place in it. Thats the secret thread that binds us together, our truest common ground. The world is a stage, a facade...its all in how you play your part.


Cocooned, thats what I am now. Isolated, insulated. Alone but content. I barely one to talk to and no reason to say anything. My voice is sort of atrophied, unsure of itself as a result when I do speak. I don't want to be harsh, I don't want to offend. Like when I was a kid...I didn't want to fight; not for fear of being hurt, but for fear of hurting.

Letter from Taylor...good to hear from her, didn't know how she would take me coming to jail right after we reestablished communique online. She is smart and strong. I am glad for this. I hope we can actually have a father/daughter relationship someday.

Laugh at Tyrants

Laugh at tyrants; they expect fear they want tears. Laughter disarms them like nothing else.

Corazon De Oro

In my heart I'm not in Pennsylvania. In my heart I am with you driving through Southern Califas. This is disassociation from reality, I know this and I'm ok with it. One split second of the sun of our ancestors setting in your eyes, your smile, you're spanish fractured english. The Pacific Coast flashes, into Mexico...through the hills and cities. Our dead culture past calling us, filling us with soul, making us who we are. 

Other People's Kids

Spent the last 2 weeks listening to my neighbor go crazy...It happens a lot in the hole. Restrictive Housing isn't for everyone. You need a strong mind to do this kind of time...If you aren't in touch with yourself then the hole will break you. 

I welcome time in RHU. I thrive on solitude.

My neighbor, not so much...he's always trying to talk through the vent. I had to put an end to that a couple days back. Too much stress.

Dream-Jail Escape and Cake

I am in jail making cakes with Mike Marlow. The idea is we bake cakes, put them on a rack, hit a buzzer and put the rack out into an alley for delivery.

The delivery is supposed to go right across the street...and we take it upon ourselves to deliver that cakes on our own.

We make it out of the jail unnoticed and slide across the street to the delivery site: a bakery. Where we are greeted by Bootsy Collins and Edith Bunker...I tell Bootsy "Happy Birthday" and he lights a joint.He asks how we got there, I tell him that I slipped out of jail...Edith says "Oh, I'll just call the jail and won't get in trouble." Bootsy, Mike and I all say "NO"...and I tell her that that is the opposite  of what we do in a situation like this.

Bootsy puts on a Bad Brains record and we all start working.

Memphis Memory

Memphis looked purple through the torrential rain. Driving was panicked, sketchy memories of slight discomfort.

Reaping Benefits of Meditation

Even without regular meditation I am seeing that my memory is a little deeper, my mind calmer. I meditated all afternoon about my life and amends I need to be willing to make. Pleasantly surprised that the amends I owe are less than I imagined.

Good session with Dr. today...talked about how development(maturity) halts during drug use & my view of man.

Jahari's Young Wisdom

Jahari was my best friend in 9th grade. We were almost inseparable, with one exception. There was the little neighborhood gang that hung out at the park in our neighborhood. This wasn't a major gang...really just a group of guys from the neighborhood, thugs. I spent a lot of time with these guys too...Jahari rarely joined me when I went to kick it with them. I didn't see why me, these guys were the shit. They were old enough to buy 40's and didn't think twice to get one for me at 15.

One time on the way to school I asked Jahari why he didn't kick it with the neighborhood guys more. His reply was something like "Look at them, their life revolves around the park and getting drunk...I don't want to be like that."

I shrugged it off...but now I understand.

Unregrettable Regret

Ever had a regrettable incident that you cannot regret? A miracle coming straight from a tragedy? 

I have. 

I never wish away my tragedy, it cheapens the miracle.

Monday, September 23, 2013

BCP CERT Team Raid

Ever been minding your own business only to be threatened by an unstable with a paintball gun filled with pepper spray filled balls and an itchy trigger finger?

I have.

After receiving a tribute of bath towels and blankets he seemed so much as he didn't appear to be a direct danger to himself or others. His eyes were still lusty in wanting to disperse pepper balls...but for now he is gone, and the village is safe.

Saturday, September 21, 2013

Sweet Dreams

Fitful sleep isn't really sleep. If you are intoxicated and go to sleep, its not really sleep either...its just your body shutting down.

Toss, turn.

Her eyes open. She is wide awake in an instant and still drunk. Mouth dry, head spinning. Her jaw hurts bad. He beat her again. Flashes of memory summarize the night before.

He always does this when they drink. He throws his ridiculous infant tantrums. He beats her, then begs forgiveness. He loves her, can't live without her...Right, he just has a fucking weird way of expressing it.

Klonopin. Empty bottle by the bed...Fuck, it's 4 in the afternoon? She's fucked. Another "no show" at her shitty waitress joke of a job. Not that she could have "shown" like this. She is sore from his fists pounding her body.

Speaking of lover boy, she can feel him in bed next to her. Gawd...she doesn't dare wake him after such a night. He'll either want to fight or fuck and neither sounds good to her. She has to, she has to piss...she also has some oxys stashed that will dull the pain.

She moves the blanket so carefully and slowly. Holy shit...her hand is caked with blood. All caution is out the window, she searches her sturdy body for lacerations. Nothing, her nose isn't broken either.

She notices loverboy, the man who would perish without her.

His throat is slit. Ear to fucking ear.

She should be panicking but she is not. With a sigh she goes and gets the stashed oxys...crushes one, cuts lines and snorts away. She takes a piss and puts on a Jethro Tull record. She makes as much noise as she wants. She takes a couple shots of whiskey and lays down on the couch, curling up in an afghan that loverboy hated. She settles into the deepest sleep she's known in 3 years...She is glad she remembers nothing.

A Hooker, Strong Coffee and Malaise


Early summer 1999 I walked over to the Convenience store on Loraine Ave in Cleveland, where I lived at the time. I was still up from drinking all night and I needed some cigars. I ran into a hooker on the way back...she struck up conversation and we went back to my house and sat on the porch. We smoked the joint in silence. I wanted to know her name, how she got into doing what she did...of course she had a life outside of her job. I didn't seemed patronizing. 

She offered to blow me for free, I declined. 

I offered her breakfast, she declined.

We watched anonymous citizens stumble off to work. Eventually she left and I never saw her again.

Colin Abbot

I was housed on the same block as Colin for the first three months of my incarceration. We became acquainted through our love of Scrabble. He is a sharp guy, and he has a dry sense of humor like my own. He is generous and kindhearted.

I will not be using this entry to discuss his case. My opinion is that the man I played Scrabble with for 3 months is no killer, and from what he shared with me of his Discovery Packet, the state's case is wobbly at best. Colin plead No Contest today and received 35 to 80 years. This is no admission of is a matter of a man being up against the most dire odds, an uphill battle where even his own lawyer doesn't seem to be doing all she can. Sometimes we who find ourselves on the wrong side of the law, innocent or guilty, accept pleas because it is the best we can hope for dealing with a proven imperfect and sometimes incompetent system.

Colin took great delight in absurdity. We had an ongoing game of lying to each other...the most audacious shit that could never pass for truth. Zombie attacks outside the prison walls, cyborg spies, etc. I had this routine of taking my shoe off and I'd talk into it, as if were a phone...I'd do this when I was off on my own but I'd make sure people could see me.

Colin is from Jersey and knows some of my haunts in NYC. We talked about having some Nathan's and a couple beers on the boardwalk when we we're both out...I honestly believe there is still time, I think he has a good chance on appeal.

You hear of people forging friendship from mutual necessity. In jail this usually means strength in numbers; a protection/survival issue. For us, it was to stay sane. Jails are not full of bright people...w/o other minds to joust, you brain will atrophy. This may sound arrogant, but it is what it is. Colin kept me sane.

People in Butler will talk for a while, as is their nature. Then Colin's case will bore them and they will move on. As for me, once I'm out I'm going to light two cigars & let one burn while I smoke the other. I'll watch the clouds move and have a moment for my friend in absentia.

I Like My Britney Bald and Crazy, Thank You

Vanilla days are upon us...and I doubt it'll get any better. Post Millennial Amerika has really turned up the heat under the melting pot...I am squinting to see any individuality. Maybe this is a good thing, my opinion is mine alone.

Internet...I cast a cautious glance your way. I am seeing a side of you that I don't like. Homogeneity. Lil Wayne, Blake Shelton, Selena Gomez milkshake, anyone?

Columbine made you soft Amerika. The Columbine and the 9-11. They scared you, scarred you.Made you want to feign contentment. Made you wanna play it safe.  

What happened to painting the White House black?

Untitled Song

This cell is cold/This one man hole
But its where I gotta be
Until one day/They look my way
And they turn that jinglin key

I did my crime/I do my time
But yo, somethings gotta give
The price was high/And so was I
And this ain't no way to live

Sometimes it seems/Like lifes a dream
And I know that it can't last
But if at least/I can kill this beast
I can leave it in my past

Behind enemy lines, like one more time
And I'm tired of standing in the same chow line
And I'm sick of waking up when they say its time
And I'm so fucking tired of these bright ass lights
And I'm sick of hearing the weak ones whine
Like I'm tired of hearing the loud ones chime
And I'm so sick of thine
But I'm so sick of mine
Jesus, Mary, Joseph let this be the last time

When freedom calls/I'll grab my balls
And I'll walk right out that door
I won't look back/Hit the road, jack
And you won't see me no more

Bog and His Angels Decend

And then, my loyal audience and only friends, old Bog himself gave back to your silver tongued narrator a gift he'd long ago taken away. Yes, Bog himself and a thousand heroin addicted negro angels sang to and about my own sorrow and lament, my perseverance and longevity.

behavior mirrors inspire change

hearing people curse
I want to quit cursing
seeing people stress
I want to chill


Joanne Perkins slips a note into my Bhagavad Gita, we're on a train somewhere way out in Long Island. Dead grey winter trees but people are boating.

Witches and their Tits

I have never met a witch or anyone I've mistaken for one. That said, I claim no expertise of their physiology...but I do hear that their breasts are audaciously chilly. Thats how cold it is in here right now.


I am on Gram's porch. Angela Caltagirone walks over and points out that the neighbors have babies corralled in their front yard.

"If you lived there, would you ever leave?"

"As soon as I could." I reply as if this was some inside joke that only she and I knew.

Angela is wearing a blue silk dress, she wants me to watch her dog for a while. The dog is a sheepdog and he can talk but all that comes out is gibberish. I strap him into a baby seat in a blue SUV.

I drive to a tattoo shop in Oakland, where I work. There are no customers so I head out back. there are a bunch of punk rock kids hanging out, talking shit. They tell me that the nature of the world is melancholy.

Suddenly I remember I am supposed to meet Angela. Some kid with a mohawk says "Yo, you're supposed to meet that girl, huh?" I tell him that I'm not going anywhere...but then jump down a flight of stairs and take off...we're all laughing.

I see Angela and she is distressed, saying "We can't be on the street, Papi is looking for you"...I take her hand and walk her back to the shop.

Coffee and Cake in the Hole

Coffee and cake to celebrate peace of mind!! Can't wait for my 1st real cup when I get out. I love it all...Jamaican, columbian, real espresso, cafe ole'. Theres nothing like a fresh hard cup of macho mexican, el negro. No sugar, no brewed cowboy style. The real shit. Not suggested for weaklings or the elderly.

As for now, I'll have mine instant and swartze.

True Love(A Rockville, Md. 1989)

Mark says to me "You know what true love feels like?" I, of course being 12, reply in the negative. He says "True love, little man, its the same feeling you get when you have to take a shit really bad."

Amen, Mark, Amen

Vacation Time!!


Second full day in the hole, session with Dr Anderson, letter from Mom. Caffeine headache lessening. Moved to my own cell...hoping to stay this way.

Mood is calm, trying to conserve paper.


Talked to A---X I expected he won't be able to furnish me with a copy of the blog entry about the scandal here. With him being as offended as he was, I wanted to see if I had said anything out of line. He said he had a meeting with a Capt and that they decided that it would be a risk of some sort to let me see it...However that works!? I wrote it...weird.

Calming, readjusting to the solitude. Reading, meditating.

Da Last Supper

**I think that I should explain at this point that in the Re-Entry program you leave the jail to go to some outside groups, God's Country is an outside function**

The sermon tonight was on my namesake. Since it was my last night out, I decided to make it date night with Marci, figured I should go out in style. Marci is a sweetheart...and college educated to boot. Maybe we could have had some fun in another life. 

Looks like the hole tomorrow. 

Friday, September 20, 2013


They found chew in my cell...I knew when C--X W------X saw the exchange this morning that something would come out of it. No write up yet, I'm sure I'll get it on Monday. B----X had the audacity to pull me out and try to get a confession/snitch session. Oh what a tangled fucking web.

Sexy Times at the Butler County Prison

Heres the breakdown for anyone who doesn't know...

If I wouldn't have witnessed blatant incompetence and unprofessional behavior during my time in jail, maybe I'd be less inclined to believe the accusations. And honestly, I still do believe the girls...they stand to gain absolutely nothing from this. And if there was nothing to hide then why the hush, why the lies...A Tazer? C'mon dude, sell that to someone with a lower i.q.

Heres the thing: I genuinely like some of these guards as people, as individuals. But we fall on opposite sides here.

Of course they are going to protect their interests. Like I said before everyone should be accountable.

Ultimately what I have is hearsay on both sides...but I can't discount the girls. Convict doesn't mean dishonest anymore than guard means integrity.

10 Months(2-4-13)

No wonder I've been on's the eve of my 10 month mark. WTF...I should be in Brooklyn.

Crime pays no dental or medical
Unless you catch retirement in county, state or federal

Feb 6 2013

I first went to rehab on Feb. 6 1996. I had no expectations...I didn't identify as an addict.The experience was absurd. It was a learning experience. 

Some people become homeless. Some people contract A.I.D.S.. Some people push pills through gaps in their teeth when their jaws are wired shut. Some people create fantasy worlds to live in. Some people refuse to be Pavlov's Puppies.

I am so mentally exhausted...

Panem Et Circenses

It began with violent delusions
A great serpent devouring itself
Insatiable, relentless
Fed on murder, fed on rape
I've seen what it does
Destroying the best, saving the herd
Adept slight of hand
Smoke and Mirror Democracy

HE told you it would come home to roost
Don't look to the desert for your enemies
We all eat what we plant
Don't you dare pray when the end comes

It will end as it began
Hungry, unsatisfied
Nothing left to devour
Weary, burned out
No one left to eat
No monsters left to blame
Enslaved by its own ideology
Put to death by it's own fangs