Your Oyster


Prison Poetry Chapbooks


"The only end of writng is to enable the readers better to enjoy life or better to endure it." -Samuel Johnson

Home

 


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

     
     
     

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



 


 




The Crying Bell
In response to the bombing of the Murrah Building in Oklahoma City
Spring, 1995

Poems by students in an Introduction to Literature course
at North Country Community College
Franklin Correctional Facility Extension Site
Malone, NY

 

 

 Selected Poems


The Sun Rises

The sun rises, trumpets blast
Filling skies with dark clouds
Back to back, burning the past
Fear from afar, raising hell
Revenge tastes sour on your tongue

Bring it home, the crying bell
Lonely toys, it's child's play
Drawing blood from the young
Call it justice says McVeigh
Burning flesh and screaming crowds

The sun rises, exploding in the sky
Countless people will have to die
Night moves in, shadows of death
Poison air with every breath
Cycle of generations gone blind

Hands of the clock beginning to unwind
The earth beats with every disaster
Twisting, turning, burning faster, faster
Flight of night, middle of the night
Break the bread, what's wrong? what's right?

mmmmmmmmmmmmm-- Paul Pappas


Misjudgments - Injustices

It happened in Oklahoma
A whole nation heard it.
Many said this, many said that.
America's been waiting
For the bombing to start
Tick Tock Tick Tock
Who did this thing they say
mmmOne of our own
As it turns out.
mmmTick Tock Tick Tock
Why couldn't it have been
mmmOne of those others
Why did it happen to the children?
mmmTick Tock Tick Tock
America will you ever wake up
From the sandman's sleep?
Rub the crust from your eyes!
mmmWake up!
mmmTick Tock Tick Tock
Misjudgments injustices
mmmBy one and all
Only the children know for sure
mmmThey were killed that afternoon.

mmmmmmmmmmmmm-- Ralph Clausen



To Hell With You S.A
.

Heartland was tranquil, sun kissing the land
Unaware victims took tasks to the day
Without scent of snakes slithering their way.
Zealots of fear carries terror by hand
Explosion of hate as devil does smirk
Ripping off limbs amid flashes of pain
Act of true evil, distortion of sane
Religion of death immersed in its work.

A barefooted child lies still in the heat
Arms that embrace her blackened by soot
Faces of angels buried like treasure
Hearts of the peaceful still search for the meek
Blue sneaker uncovered seeking its foot
Tears tell of anguish, numb beyond measure.

mmmmmmmmmmmmm-- Charles Trotter

Home

 E-mail: mitchellh@cortland.edu

 


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

     
     
     

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



Disclaimer
The views and opinions expressed in this page are strictly those of the author.
The contents of this linked page have not been reviewed or approved by SUNY Cortland.