I am far from being one of the most talented writers trapped within this concrete hell though I am one of the most censored the rhythm of my pen is not intricate, intellectual, philosophical, nor poetically delicate it is like a blunt force that recklessly evade conformity as I vacate the scene of the crime that my pen has allegedly committed why else so much attention be given towards its containment and imposed sanctions? I once wrote a prose completely devoted to my pen it was confiscated by my keepers declared a threat to the penalogical interest of their institution why do my keepers feel so threaten by the words that fluidly spills from a rages heart? Or is it because of the blood in my eyes? My spirit choreograph the rhythm of my pen at times it is rage and at times its pain I am often accused of writing with a heavy hand my words tends to have a sledge hammer affect pounding on the door of ones consciousness demanding the release of ones humanity that appears to be held hostage by the restrictions of ones self imposed imprisonment I’ve tried to reason with society using melodic whisper being careful not to disturb their peace as I approach the peripheral realm of their spiritual projection with hope of embracing a glimpse of their humanity but the callousness of desensitized society deflected my spiritual expedition denying me the delectation of consummating my emancipation with kindred traveler I believe this is the cause which has compelled my words to metamorphose into a blunt instrument intruding upon the premise of ones private introspection demanding the release of ones humanity I need not have to translate….
The metaphoric rhythm of my expression whatever you may receive from it , its what it is its interpretation is dependent upon your spiritual capacity to transcend man made restraints surrender to the seduction of a liberated spirit defiantly refusing to be defined by mans limitations a subjective obstruction debilitating the inner self ability to reach beyond the normality of a socio construct that is designed to shackle ones spirit to a constricted place where ignorance fornicate with the perversion of and erectiled jealousy attempting to divert you from your objectified revelation of a spirit untamed rising above the desolate plains of a dispirited social order increase your self awareness to see beyond that which you don’t see and find what your looking for most people believe that the journey is a physical transport from one place to another but it is within the physical realm where human limitations becomes magnified ten fold limitations are often man made or manifestation of a society trapped within its own sins. We find redemption not in an escape from our reality but in a total awareness of our spirituality I’ve spent the past 32 years in solitary confinement it is a daily struggle to resist the attractive seduction of insanity for it is ever testing my resolve I am a realist and I am fully aware of my physical reality and limitations so my journey is not and escape from reality it is a spiritual freedom where the inner peace and tranquility console the tormented mind and put me at a place where the concrete and steel becomes my coat of arms as my spirit stalk the cold corridors of my reality in search of the condemned souls with the precise intent to ignite their spiritual fire becoming light of hope beaconing from the depths of this manufactured he’ll they call PELIKKKAN BAY STATE PRISON!!!!!!