Three Poems by Sylvester “Sonny” Jackson

Where do I stand in the prison yard

Finding my spot in the yard was a difficult and scary thing, everything I knew about prison was from the movies, I didn't want to join any gangs, that would mean there'd be some sort of initiation, and at some point I'd have to fight, plus there were just too many to choose from and I'd be in for life.

I also didn't go to prison to change my religion, even if it meant getting better food than what the prison was slopping out and calling food.

I was content being a regular old Catholic boy, doing regular old Catholic stuff, stand up, sit down, kneel and pray, only in prison we didn't have to put money in the basket, and my Sunday best was the same old tree green prison suit I wore every day.

So where did I stand in the prison yard, I stood all by myself, alone, until I found a place with other men like myself, waiting to go home. I saw many a bad thing happening in the yard, things I can never reveal and wish I hadn't seen, things that were bad, done by men that were mean, fortunately none of these things happened to me or was done by me, that's because I stood by myself in the yard. Sometimes I'd walk the yard, close to the fence and talk to the deer or maybe, just maybe see a bear, I never walked too close to the fence, that's considered an escape attempt, so the lesson I learned is it's not always fun to play in the yard, it was indeed a hard lesson to Learn.

Time is running out

Time flies when you're having fun, days seem to be getting shorter, the summer ends much too soon, no frolicking at the beach, no picnicking on the blanket at the park, no jumping seat to seat on the carousel.

Time is running out as we get older, I don't seem to be able to do all the things I used to do when I was a younger man, no catching fly balls in the outfield, no running end zone to end zone, for touch downs, no sky diving or deep sea fishing, no handball or stickball, no ring-a-levio, hopscotch or tag-ur it, it sucks getting old, I remember I couldn't wait to be 16, 21, or 25 years old, what I’d give to have those years to do over again, they say you get wiser as you get older, well I'm wise enough to know that if I ever meet the guy who said that I'm gonna slap the crap outta him.

Well even though I know my time is running out, I've gotta use time wisely, at this late stage in the game, I know not to waste time, waste not, want not. I've learned to live each day as if it were my last.

I'll forever be young at heart, just because my body has accumulated some years, doesn't mean my soul can't run free, and my imagination will always allow me to be as young as I want, I can still climb the highest mountain or swim the deepest sea, I can say the hell with you, time ain't running out on me.

Sunrise and light

 I see the sunrise through the light in your eyes it will lead me from this deep and darkened place of which I cannot climb this hole deep within my heart neither shovels of dirt nor spades of soil can fill this space for it is so deep my soul withers to waste.

Bring me up into the light so I may again watch the sun as it rises for I see the sunrise through the light in your eyes.

Never shut them or allow them to close or my heart shall cease to beat and I will lie dead forever at your feet bring me to the light so that I may live so that I may enjoy the sunshine and light never again shall I feel the dark and cold of night that rips and tears at my soul for I am in need of sunrise and Light.

Sylvester “Sonny” Jackson is a writer and retired Marine. As many of you know, Sonny is one of the most important members of our writing workshop for people returning from incarceration.