Haiku Tuesday
If you read my last entry you will note that I had the misfortune to spend some time behind bars. I know that what I did was wrong. I was willing to fess up, say "guilty", and let the hammer come down. On the day of my final trial I really had no idea where I would go or for how long. The most terrifying moment was the 5 seconds before I was sentenced. The DA was feeling generous, however, and he only sentenced me to 2 years, non-mandatory, to the local county hotel. I was able to earn "good time" and was finally released on September 3, 2004. I will never forget that date. There were tough times in jail. Some were truly terrifying. There were times of great inner peace. The food was horrible. Fried carbohydrates for almost every meal. I gained 40 pounds. I have since lost 30. I spent a lot of time reading and am lucky to say that I had the resources to have books sent to me from the outside. I also had 2 magazine subscriptions. I am probably the only inmate in the history of that particular jail to receive The New Yorker and The Atlantic Monthly. I also kept a journal, in which I kept a daily log of happenings, fears, and hopes. Of the 1800 pages I wrote, I think that most of it is pretty self-absorbed drivel. I did have a period of a few months where I wrote haiku as well as my regular journal entries. I tried to write 2 or 3 everyday. I ended up with about 250 total, not including a "long" haiku story about an apple blossom and her adventures on the river. I hope to use that as a text for a children's book. So in the spirit of my own past adventure, I'll publish 3 haiku every Tuesday, written while incarcerated, in no particular order.
#7
Concertina wire
secures the perimeter
from the basketball
#102
I'm never alone:
at my most solitary
God touches my soul
#6
A parole letter
written by a friend and read
by faceless strangers
posted by John D.C. Masters @ 6/21/2005
2 Comments:
As you know, my kid brother spent time in prison as well. You have a gift for capturing what it is like to be imprisoned, and for taking me on the solitary journey of the soul that one might experience there. It was sad, of course, but there's a beauty in your reflections from that time. Thank-you for sharing this with us.
Thank you david and Aravis. It's good to be here. I think I have found a real outlet for much of the goings-on in my noodle. I must especially thank Aravis for pushing me in this direction. When I said to her, "You know, I think I should...", she said, "I think so too...". And here I be. Keep blogging on!
Johnnyboy
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