Prose and Cons: Rhyming Poetry About Love and Doin' Time (But Not Lovin' Doin Time)

I suppose if any literary critic we're inclined to come down critically on this book they would start with its title. It's true that no prose will be found within this book, but I think I made that fact abundantly clear with the subtitle. It's simply a play on words that I could not resist: prose obviously representing poetry and cons actually representing convicts, or the environment of convicts in which I existed. If one takes a step backward and recognizes the origin of the wordplay, the phrase pros and cons, I'm trying to communicate to the reader that negativity doesn't have to be the only thing that is gleaned from a prison sentence; indeed, a sentence is the perfect time for some serious introspection and Improvement, which can be construed as a positive perspective on a negative situation.

Further analysis of the books contents would reveal that the poems cover a wide spectrum of subjects and feelings, and are not confined to simply love or doin' time. In fact, many of the poems have to do with the feelings that I feel when I retrospectively reflect on the influence that drugs have had on my decisions in life and the damage that they have therefore caused. I found it quite ironic that I was making what I thought to be beautiful poems about such a disgusting and destructive entity as substance abuse. It was difficult to split this book into subjects to classify each poem under. Some of the poems could easily fit under two of the subjects, if not three or four and I had to make the decision as to where to place them. If you feel that some of the poems were misclassified and are moved to let me know about the faux pas then you can contact me at the email address at the end of this book,

Let me explain how some of these poems came to be: I developed a reputation on the prison yard as a poet, wordsmith, or otherwise capable writer, so I found that I had quite quickly develop a hustle for writing poetry for other people based on their feelings. This is more difficult than it sounds. I find it quite easy to write poetry about one's own passionate feelings, but trying to write passionately about another's feelings takes a knack for displacement. I would usually sit down with the person and interview them about the subject or intended receiver of the poem, taking special note of the emotion that was transmitted to me during specific factoids in the interview, sometimes filling up a couple pages worth of notes before I sat down to the task at hand. The endeavor was not without payment, though the price that I charge for each poem was a trifle to say the least; I only ask for $0.60 per poem (which is either a pre-stamped envelope or a Ramen soup in prison currency) because I knew that I would be including many of the poems in a collection (this collection) that I would have published when my incarceration was over, so I figured that the written poems themselves held their own value. I decided near the end of my sentence that I did not want to include any poems that specifically mentioned any names so some poems never made the cut. Others have made the cut, so here within the pages are interspersed poems written by me from other people's point-of-views. I've done my best to capture the intended emotion that should accompany any of these commissioned poems. I will say that most of the poems are from my own point of view, I will not specifically mention which poems were commissioned or not; maybe you will be able to guess for yourself.

Let me admit that I am an amateur poet, so please excuse any mistakes or writing styles that may not mesh well with poetical theory. I've read many essays by Edgar Allan Poe on composition and verse that aided me in this writing project, and I am particularly thankful for his posthumous tacit guidance that was afforded while I pored over his completed collection of writings. Of all the poetry that I read while I was imprisoned, his was the most influential. I can't help feeling an affinity with the man (but I am in no way trying to measure up to him; he was a genius) because he never believe that any of his poems would stand the test of time. I will be happy if he even a few people chance to read the poems that follow.

Poetry is magical. But by the time that I have finished writing a poem the magic has already happened to me. What remains to be seen is whether or not any of the poems are powerful enough to invoke feelings from other readers and afford them the same magical experience. That's why the time was spent to publish this book. After spending so much time writing these poems that spoke the language of my soul, I couldn't let them very well find their destiny stored or thrown away simply because the magic already happened to me. I had to take the chance and put them out there so, if possible, some of the magic was there for others to discover. So please come enjoy the poems. If you enjoy any of them then I have succeeded: the magic happened. And if the magic does happen then I have inadvertently made the noun poet synonymous with magician.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

If I actually listed everyone who was instrumental in the production of this book I would have to delve so deep within my soul to find the people that were the inspiration for many of the verses. I don't think that's such a great idea. Instead, let me give a shout out to Ian Boyd for helping me with the first lines Origins Of Poetry, Reflective Ogling Eyes and some other poems in this collection. He and my buddy Nick Atherton listened patiently to any poem that I flung their way and never discouraged me. So special thanks to those two.

Thanks goes out to my father who has always been there as an anchor of love, support and belief in me. Even when I've been at my lowest he as always stood by my side. I love you dad.

My step-mother has also shown time and time again that she cares about me and my wellbeing, regardless of how tough she can seem sometimes, so thanks goes to her as well.

Lastly, thanks to the rest of my friends and family for being supportive and their encouragement to follow through with this endeavor.

LOVE

You know you're in love when you can't fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams.

― Dr. Seuss

Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up.

― Neil Gaiman, The Kindly Ones

A Foundation for Relation

You cast a spell of love on me,

I responded with my own.

We both desired to be desired

And not feel so alone.

But, alas, the spells we cast

Came to a dismal fate:

They cancelled out, they couldn't last —

Our love just couldn't wait.

And the irony’s not there to see;

The spells did seem effective.

No hocus-pocus brings the glee

That we have both collected.

But we have the real deal —

No need for incantation —

Authentic love that we both feel;

Foundation for relation.

A Single Tear To Shed

Please send me away from here

To finish up my many years

While I don't have a single tear

To shed for me.

Tell me that it's now or never;

Cut the rope, it's time to sever

My ties with you, so I'll endeavor

Happily.

For I'd rather feel pain

Than feel nothing; that's so lame.

It is not working, that's a shame.

Don't lie to me.

I wish that you could be more real

And not so fake and try to feel.

Instead you simply just conceal.

Confide in me.

A Woman's Wrath

They say there's no fury like a woman's wrath,

But I think that I'd rather feel it

Than to be a stranger to the aftermath.

So please, do not conceal it.

If you want to assign blame, scream, or just vent,

And you want it directed at me,

I welcome your outraged — I give you consent —

Let your words burn at solar degrees.

For I'd rather un-cage your incredible rage

And be victim to verbal violence

Then be forced to go forth the rest of my days

With no sound of your voice, just your silence.

Accepting Fate

The reason that it's scarin’ me

When you say that you care for me

Is you aren't quite aware, you see,

That it is just a lie.

And no matter how we try

You're gonna leave me for some guy.

It may not happen tonight,

But it will, for it's my plight.

I've had only needless suffering

From love and what that stuff’ll bring.

It does nothing but just toughen me

To accept this life.

So, no matter what you think we had

We might as well admit it sad

That it won't last. It's just too bad

That you won't be my wife.

Advice On Deception

It's not that I do not believe

Your fervent alibis,

Simply that your guilt resides

Within your truthful eyes.

Now even as the lies you vocalize

Drip off your lips

Your soul’s window has only shown

Disparity exist.

I tell you this so maybe you

Can change one or the other,

So next time that you want to fool

Your poor unwitting lover

You can be consistent and

Make the desired coup.

But just the same I'll say it plain:

Good luck; I'm through with you.

All I Require

You're beautiful and sweet,

You really are a treat

To hold within my sight and mind.

You knock me off my feet.

You're sexy and you're playful;

Intelligent and graceful.

I'm so glad we chance to have

This love so it could take hold

And start a family based on love.

Our family I will put above

Any situation because

Family’s all I'm thinking of.

So you have all my affection.

I promise you protection.

For you’re the two that keep me glued

And maintain my direction.

Please know you're all that I desire,

You set my beating heart on fire,

And you do it just by being you.

That's all that I require.

Banished Lost Love's Reflection

I'm sure you’ve felt the pain before:

As if your heart's been raked and scored.

How damaging is love's deception.

And how you miss

That loving kiss.

Banish lost love's reflection.

There is no need to dwell upon it

As if it was a lovely sonnet.

Release the memories of the pain

Then you will find

Through passing time

That you will love again.

Butterfly

Though I'd love to catch you

Gently in my net

I've no need to trap you

To behold your beauty.

You've given me so much

That I feel within your debt.

I want to make you happy;

I feel it's my duty.

Since you flew into my life

I feel quite no regret

Like the times we're not together;

When you're not by my side.

As long as I know you

I never will let

You come to any kind of harm

My sweetheart butterfly.

Catalyzed By My Savior

If you could see what you truly mean to me

You could never doubt the love that I pledge.

For you saved me, in fact, from the hope that I lacked;

You’ve pulled me back from a steep ledge.

My heart — a machine — you filled with gasoline

Giving life back to me with a purpose:

A reason to care about feelings to share;

Abolishing thought that life’s worthless.

The warmth I’ve inside, that I once thought had died

Was catalyzed by your attention.

I'd still be bitter if it weren't for that glitter

You brought by your swift intervention.

My passion for life may have died with this the strife

If you hadn't unlikely appeared.

I know I can cope, for you’ve given me hope

And soothed away most of my fears.

This newfound love that I cherish above

Any feelings that I've ever savored

Feels such a fit, that's why I admit

You're my guardian angel; my savior.

Christmas List

I was struck

By grave implicitness

When I chanced upon

Your Christmas list.

One abortion?

Birth control?

A way to get out

Of this hole?

A chance to start

Things over new?

A place in which

To Rendezvous?

Sleeping pills

And my favorite soup?

A loss of loved ones

Support group?

Life insurance

Paid in full?

A prayer to help

And save your soul?

Your Christmas list

Just