June 13, 2019

Dear Reader.....6-6-19

by Douglas Blaine Matthews (author's profile)



Dear Reader,
Hey, I hope you are doing well!

Today, I am going to share a poem with you. I wrote it when I went back to my county jail (Volusia County Brach Jail) for a court date concerning my appeal. While there I was housed in Unit 10. A very small quarter dorm that only had five cells in it and a shower stall.

My cell, approximately 7x9 feet cell and all the walls and bunk is painted white. A cell that was psychologically challenging. A month and a half I spent in that cell. Sometimes a pysch-admitted inmate would be brought in for a 24 hours to 2 hour suicide hold.

This wasn't the first time solitary had done damage to my psychological state, and I thought this time I would write about the struggle of the dance in the format of spoken word poetry.

I hope you enjoy it. Or rather, appreciate it.


SI. & SOL.

It is so strong, so strong.
But with a single word I can break it
So I speak and I hear the first crack
I speak more and I feel the roar of its
foundation being torn apart!
An orchestra of woodbine instruments, a tree
being ripped to shreds in a storm whose name
brought terror and reaped havoc on so many who
thought that new hope had been found until
its coastal fury reached high into the sky and
came smashing down on them for believing
that new hope was more than a town it was
belief in something better and it would
come their way...

And holding her hand is the one who's
solitary substance can whisper destruction
with the most devastating of hollow acts on
this planet.

At this time I am at war with both.
I've been here before, stood on this very
battlefield... and lost.

They had transformed me into an object
according to the images that they evolve.

They quietly attacked me from all sides.
I could not see, I fell, blind and bound.
I drowned on their nothingness that created
my emptiness that left me suspending in pain.

And I felt nothing. A nothing that hurt so bad.

I prayed to their sister every night and
begged their mother to collect her debt from me.
She did not want me. Time and again
She abandoned me as well.

Leaving me to devise a plan that she could not
resist. She would accept me, she would wrap her
arms around me and pull me into the darkness of
her slumber. As the rise of serotonin constricted
the type A positive highways of this vessel and
submerged me under a blanket of eternal peace.

But the bitch outwitted me again!

—It's been some time since we last met.
Me and the murder of your crows.

I'll leave you no carrion to spread your disease
this time, fueled with my woes.

You invited e to dine on your SI and
SOL and after grace you threw the sustenance
you prepared me for the termite infested
ashes of your requiem.

Not this time!

Though I'll admit you almost had me.
I paced and fumed and the ashes you offer
began to smell so sweet.

But a portal opened up and I was told
"breathe in through your nose and out
through your nose, and relax.
This is only a moment.
It will pass.
In through your nose, out through your nose,
and repeat."

Now your ashes look and smell like
ashes and your Silence and Solitude are now


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