Understanding the P.I.C. through Creative Works
Many different creative forms of expression are used to tell a story or capture the emotions of a moment in time. Sometimes, history means telling the lost stories of people who were previously attempted to be erased from history books. As such, part of the research here will highlight and share works of literature, poetry, music, etc. to help capture the great impact of oppression on minority communities within the context of the Prison Industrial Complex. Through the lens of literature and other creative mediums, the goal is to allow individuals to understand the larger effects of the P.I.C. at play and to amplify the voices of the individuals affected by this systemic issue. Sometimes, with experiences so traumatic and tragically formative, creative outlets are the best methods to capture the pathos of the experience and to begin attempting to communicate those deep emotions to others in the hopes of creating mutual understanding.
“Jail Poems” by Bob Kaufman
1
I am sitting in a cell with a view of evil parallels,
Waiting thunder to splinter me into a thousand me's.
It is not enough to be in one cage with one self;
I want to sit opposite every prisoner in every hole.
Doors roll and bang, every slam a finality, bang!
The junkie disappeared into a red noise, stoning out his hell.
The odored wino congratulates himself on not smoking,
Fingerprints left lying on black inky gravestones,
Noises of pain seeping through steel walls crashing
Reach my own hurt. I become part of someone forever.
Wild accents of criminals are sweeter to me than hum of cops,
Busy battening down hatches of human souls; cargo
Destined for ports of accusations, harbors of guilt.
What do policemen eat, Socrates, still prisoner, old one?
2
Painter, paint me a crazy jail, mad water-color cells.
Poet, how old is suffering? Write it in yellow lead.
God, make me a sky on my glass ceiling. I need stars now,
To lead through this atmosphere of shrieks and private hells,
Entrances and exits, in . . . out . . . up . . . down, the civic seesaw.
Here — me — now — always here somehow.
3
In a universe of cells—who is not in jail? Jailers.
In a world of hospitals—who is not sick? Doctors.
A golden sardine is swimming in my head.
Oh we know some things, man, about some things
Like jazz and jails and God.
Saturday is a good day to go to jail.
4
Now they give a new form, quivering jelly-like,
That proves any boy can be president of Muscatel.
They are mad at him because he's one of Them.
Gray-speckled unplanned nakedness; stinking
Fingers grasping toilet bowl. Mr. America wants to bathe.
Look! On the floor, lying across America's face—
A real movie star featured in a million newsreels.
What am I doing—feeling compassion?
When he comes out of it, he will help kill me.
He probably hates living.
Bob Kaufman, “Jail Poems” from Collected Poems of Bob Kaufman (1960), Stanzas 1-4.
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Bob Kaufman was an American Beat poet and jazz performer. Born in New Orleans in 1925, Kaufman was the son of a German Jewish father and a Black Catholic mother. Kaufman lived an eventful, yet troubled life, where, at one point, he ran into trouble with the law and found himself imprisoned. Kaufman also struggled with a drug addiction. Later in life, the poet became a practicing Buddhist. Kaufman eventually died on January 12, 1986.
Jail Poems is a poem structured to convey that it is, as the title suggests, a collection of poems detailing its speaker’s prison experience. The full poem contains up to 34 stanzas, all of various lengths. The beginning of Kaufman’s poem featured here details the sensory experience of being imprisoned. The beginning of the poem also contains the longest stanzas, which continuously get shorter and shorter as the poem progresses. Kaufman successfully captures the feeling of imprisonment, of how the speaker feels confined to a space, to the extent that he “needs stars now” to demonstrate how cut off inmates are from the outside world. Unfortunately for the poem’s speaker, he finds himself “Here– me– now– always here somehow,” somehow always stuck in his prison cell that he cannot escape from.
Kaufman’s poem continues to immerse the reader into the emotions and headspace of an inmate, leading to the existential-like questions that begin the third stanza. This series of questions dig at the root of the issue: who is stuck in a prison cell and who benefits from these systems? Jailers run the jail, so obviously they are not the ones sitting in the cells. Similarly, doctors are “not sick” because they have access to medicine more accessible than the “sick” do. Kaufman’s poem begins to question the power dynamics and large implications that perpetuate the injustices of the prison system.
Chain Gang by Sam Cooke
Verse 1
All day long they work so
hard
Till the sun is going down
Working on the highways
and byways
And wearing, wearing a
frown
You hear them moaning
their lives away
Then you hear somebody
say;
Chorus
Well don’t you know
That’s the sound of the men
Working on the chain gang
That’s the sound of the men
Working on the chain gang
Verse 2
Can’t you hear them singing,
mmm huh hah
I’m going home one of
these days huh hah
I’m going home, see my
woman huh hah
Whom I love so dear
But meanwhile, I gotta work right here huh hah
Chorus
Well don’t you know
That’s the sound of the men
Working on the chain gang
That’s the sound of the men
Working on the chain gang
Outro
All day long they’re singing,
mm huh ah
My, my, my, my, my, my, my
my work is so hard huh ah
Gimme water, I’m thirsty,
my, my work is so hard huh
ah i
Woah oh, y, my, my, my, my
My work is so hard huh ah
Sam Cooke, “Chain Gang” from Swing Low, Recorded January 25, 1960, Released July 26, 1960.
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Chain Gang is a song written and released by Sam Cooke in the 1960s. While on tour, Cooke was driving down the highway and stopped to talk to an actual chain gang that was out working while he was passing by. Cooke wrote this song as a way to pay homage and honor their hard work, especially because Cooke was reportedly so moved by the unfortunate predicament these men were forced to work in.[1]
Cooke’s lyrics in Chain Gang reflect his exact intentions in writing the song. The first verse talks about the work the prisoners are forced to do “All day long.” Not only that, but many of these prisoners do the work with the motivation of one day being free, being released once again to “see my woman” and those living on the outside while they are forced to serve their time in the chain gang. The song's outro in particular begins to demonstrate more of how inhumane this prison punishment is. Being in the chain gang means working long hours tirelessly and without breaks. This punishment is unjust, and this work is “too hard,” but it is what is being forced upon these men in an attempt to reconcile the crimes they supposedly committed to get here, but in reality, they are treated inhumanely.
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Hurricane by Bob Dylan
Rubin Carter was falsely tried
The crime was murder “one,” guess who testified?
Bello and Bradley and they both baldly lied
And the newspapers, they all went along for the ride
How can the life of such a man
Ben in the palm of some fool’s hand?
To see him obviously framed
Couldn’t help but make me feel ashamed to live in a land
Where justice is a game
Now all the criminals in their coats and their ties
Are free to drink martinis and watch the sun rise
While Rubin sits like Buddha in a ten-foot-cell
An innocent man in a living hell
That’s the story of the Hurricane
But it won’t be over till they clear his name
And give him back the time he’s done
Put in a prison cell, but one time he could-a been
The champion of the world
Bob Dylan, “Hurricane” from Desire, Recorded July 1975 and October 24, 1975, Released November 1975.
​
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The song Hurricane by Bob Dylan is an 8-minute long recording that details the story of boxer Rubin “Hurricane” Carter. Dylan wrote the song as an act of protest against the unjust imprisonment of Carter based on false evidence and racial profiling. Carter was charged with a triple murder and eventually found guilty, sentencing him to serve a life sentence. However, after years of emerging details regarding faulty evidence and questionable witnesses, Carter was finally released and dismissed from the original indictments against him. However, Dylan’s song was written after he read Carter’s autobiography where he claimed his innocence. After meeting him while he was in prison, Dylan eventually wrote his song in support of Carter, and the song was later used in the 1999 movieHurricane starring Denzel Washington as Rubin Carter to tell the details of the Hurricane’s story and false imprisonment on the silver screen.[1]
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Poetry of Women Prisoners by Sue Stauffacher
Poetry of Women’s Prisoners is a collection of poems written by women in prison. Author Sue Stauffacher, in visiting a women’s prison, prompted the incarcerated women there to write about their experiences and to write to the people they missed while incarcerated. Primarily, the collection of poems is from mothers who are imprisoned and separated from their children. Many of the women in the prison Stauffacher visited are women who have been struggling with drug addictions. Many of the names included are the real names of the inmates who wrote about their experiences, however, the names of children used in some of the poems have been changed to protect their privacy.
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What I Have Lost by Jill Smith
I know through the years
There were good times and bad
Unfortunately what hurts
I remember the bad
I’ve disappointed you
In so many ways
The drinking, the drugging
Almost forgetting your special day
I know you’ve lost trust
Today is a new day
I’m sobering up
While missing you the same
The days are getting better
I’m recalling the good days
I know that this year
I’ll remember your special day
Jill Smith, “What I Have Lost” from Poetry of Women Prisoners by Sue Stauffacher, p. 4 (2013).
​
What I Have Lost encapsulates the feeling of being imprisoned and the impact that has on the loved ones who remain on the outside. However, Smith’s poem also offers a gleam of hope. American prisons are often criticized for their neglect to actually reform and rehabilitate inmates. However, in Smith’s last stanza, by remembering the loved ones whom the speaker cares for deeply, the days incarcerated are “getting better” with the memories of those special people. As such, the speaker of the poem hopes to remember that “special day” of the person on the outside that gives her hope and motivation to get better, despite “the bad” that she had previously experienced and feels that she has put that person through. Ultimately, it is these memories and deep adoration for her loved ones that give the speaker the strength to improve despite the circumstances she faces while incarcerated.
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You Were My Joy and My Life by Betty Phillips
​
You were my joy and my life,
My everything, my all
You were an answer to prayer
I loved you so much
I had to give you away
You weren’t a toy
I would have broken you
You were my sunshine
After you were gone
I lived in perpetual darkness.
I became an underground animal
Never seeking the sun
You are my sun
Betty Phillips, “You Were My Joy and My Life” from Poetry of Women Prisoners by Sue Stauffacher, p. 5 (2013).
Betty Philips’ You Were My Joy and My Life truly pulls at the heartstrings when read through the perspective of a mother giving up her child yet feeling the void left by her child’s absence. Out of fear of “breaking” her child, the speaker felt she “had to give you away” as an act of protection. The first stanza begins by describing the joys the speaker’s child brought to her life, and like the sun, the speaker’s world revolves around the joy and light brought to her by her child. However, the second stanza shifts to describe the “perpetual darkness” that now plagues the speaker’s life since her source of joy and light is gone. Additionally, being incarcerated, the speaker describes in inhumanness of the experience, of becoming an “underground animal” that was hidden away from the world to “never seek… the sun.” Despite the inhumanness of the prison experience and missing her child, the memory of her child is what allows the speaker to persevere in the face of it all, coming to the final declaration that “You are my sun.”
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Prison Life by Annonymous
​
It’s like waiting on letters
When you’re doing time.
And your family won’t write,
or send you a dime.
It’s waiting on visits
that never take place,
from friends or loved ones,
who forgot your face
It’s hearing them lie
And saying that we’re trying,
making you promises
But you know they are lying
It’s making plans with someone
Who you thought you knew,
but their plans suddenly change,
and it didn’t include you
It’s hearing them say how much they care,
But in your time of need
they are never there.
It’s hearing them promise
and it goes straight to your head,
But when push comes to shove,
They leave you for dead.
It’s feelings and Love
Honor and Pride.
Pain and Emotions and hurting inside
It’s expressing yourself to your loved ones,
and friends,
But they can’t feel your pain because you’re in the pen
It’s calling and hearing
“ ‘A’ Block’s on the phone.”
But you maintain
Because life goes on
It’s really messed up when you’re doing time
But that’s “Prison Life.”
Out of sight, out of mind.
THE END.
Anonymous author, “Prison Life” from Poetry of Women Prisoners by Sue Stauffacher, p. 8 (2013).
Prison Life takes readers on a journey to begin describing the feelings of what it is like to be incarcerated. Specifically, Prison Life centers around the perspective of the inmate and how family and friends begin to treat them differently because they are in prison. The speaker of the poem describes the constant “waiting” for any interaction with the outside world and their previous life, waiting on “letters,” “plans,” and “people.” However, these things never come. No one ever comes or lives up to the things they “promise.” This creates a feeling of isolation for the speaker, and in a broader sense, begins to relate to the reality many inmates across the country have gone through.
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As the speaker is perpetually isolated and, to them, forgotten by their loved ones on the outside, the speaker notes that no one on the outside could ever understand this mental turmoil they experience, that “they can’t feel your pain because you’re in the pen.” The poem concludes with “But that’s ‘Prison Life.’ Out of sight, out of mind” because this is, unfortunately, the reality of the prison system. More often than not, incarcerated individuals are locked away and forgotten, even from the thoughts of family and friends, which only creates a world of hurt and even more trauma for those imprisoned.
El Preso by Fruko y su Tesos and Wilson Saoko
Oye,
Te hablo desde la prisón
Wilson Manyoma
Y dice…
En el mundo en que yo vivo
Siempre hay cuatro esquinas…
Pero entre esquina siempre habrá lo mismo.
Para mi no existe el cielo. ni luna ni estrella…
Para mi no alumbra el sol, pa mi todo es tiniebla.
Ay ay ay que negro es mi destino…
Ay ay ay todos de mi se alejan…
Ay ay ay perdí toda esperanza…
Ay a Díos sólo leegan mis quejas
Condenado para siempre
En esta horrible celda.
Donde no llega el cariño. ni la voz de nadie.
Aquí me pasó los días y la noche entera
Sólo vivo del recuerdo eterno de mi madre
______________________________________________
Oye,
I speak to you from prison
Wilson Manyoma
And say…
In the world that I live in
There are always four corners…
But between corners there will always be the same thing.
For me there is no heaven. neither moon nor star…
For me the sun does not shine, for me everything is darkness.
Oh oh oh how black is my destiny…
Oh, oh, everyone is moving away from me…
Oh, oh, oh, I lost all hope…
Oh God, just read my complaints
Condemned forever
In this horrible cell.
Where love does not reach. nor anyone's voice.
Here I spent the entire days and night
I only live from the eternal memory of my mother
​
Fruko y sus Tesos and Wilson Saoko, “El Preso” from Colección Oro de la Salsa (Vol. 1), Released 1975.
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El Preso, which translates to “The Prisoner,” is a song that follows the narration of an inmate and his experiences being incarcerated. The song was written with inspiration from the band’s percussionist, Álvaro Velásquez, after he received a letter from a friend that detailed the experience of another friend who was incarcerated for many years over a drug charge. The lyrics encompass the incredibly dark, traumatic emotions one faces when imprisoned, especially the isolation and loneliness one is consumed by.
Stonewall Child by Mithrellas Curtis
Glass-glitter litters pavement,
a diamond sparkle where flames dance–
rankled rage, the stench of burning trash
permeates the pavement,
where a chorus-line of courage
fueled by fury and a fierce quest
kick free of their closet-coffins.
Silent witness: moon beams
watchful gaze through heated haze.
Though the Stonewall Singers’ protests faded
before my birth, their cries form the bedrock
revolution– detritus the concrete foundation
for the freedom to express my love–
freedom bought with fear and frustration,
tears and sweat and blood, they paid the price.
Now others’ long forgotten memories
gleaned from borrowed books
are passed along to one more Stonewall child
Mithrellas Curtis, “Stonewall Child” from Prison Journalism Project (2022)
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Stonewall Child is a poem written by Mithrellas Curtis as a submission to the Prison Journalism Project. As such, Curtis is currently an inmate serving her sentence in a Virginia prison.
Curtis’ poem focuses on the legacy of activism and how often activists are put in prison as they fight for civil rights. Similarly to the experiences of Malcolm X (in Learning to Read) or Martin Luther King Jr. (in Letters from Birmingham Jail), these are also incarceration experiences based on peaceful protest. Stonewall Child explores this legacy and how these acts and sacrifices have paved the way for new generations. Their stories and efforts “are passed along to one more Stonewall child,” because it is through their actions, in this poem specifically, during the original Stonewall riots that have allowed others to have “the freedom to express my love.”
Painted on the Walls Prison Mural
Made in the summer of 2014, this mural was painted in collaboration with artists Esteban del Valle and Jose de Jesus Rodriguez. The mural, located in Brownsville, Brooklyn, was created to expose the American judicial system and how it has failed young men of color and their communities. As part of the work to create this mural, the young people who collaborated with the artists reflected on the impact of mass incarceration in their lives. As such, the subject of the vast mural depicts many different aspects that all relate to the main topic of mass incarceration and the Prison Industrial Complex.[1]