Spoon Jackson.com

NEWSLETTER # 2 2007

Greetings realness people on this love month and in this country also black history month, Another month of my longing to be in another country say, Switzerland, Norway, France or Sweden where at least I would be getting some visits while in prison and some forgiveness and a hug now and then. Nevertheless, my head is still high and my heart and soul full of love, peace and realness. I have been writing this newsletter in my head for weeks now, but my heart has been to heavy with sadness to do any writing. Now my pen has woke up and it is time to put something down on paper. To let you realness folks know I am still flowing and still growing..still creating. This is the Valentine's month, the month of sweet romantic love. I wish you all the best love. However, you want it and the sweetest love. I'll print a love poem in this newsletter. Some say love poems are the hardest poems to write. Maybe they are. Maybe the poem I print is not a love poem and I just like to think of it as one. The poem is real and comes from the heart and not the head. First, i will speak again on racism and how it comes out sometimes at the strangest moments. I'll do that in a poem also. A prose poem I wrote about James Brown and dedicated to late great Godfather of Soul music. The strange remarks came out in a conversation with a white co-worker speaking of the death of James Brown:

"SOMEONE HAD TO SAY IT LOUD"

I listened to this older
white cat
after James Brown death
say he liked James Brown's
music
until it changed
it is comment shocked me
at first
until I recalled this
same white man had said
he would never invite
a black man to his house
he said James disappeared
off the map
which was not true
It was the height
of the civil rights movement
and for black people
and other people of color
the Godfather of Soul,
elevated even higher
in the musical heavens
when during civil rights
James Brown added
his voice
to Martin Luther King, Muhammad Ali,
Malcolm X and Angela Davis
singing I am black and I am proud
Say it loud , I am black and I am proud
a whole nation, a whole world
of black people were proud
while others rocked the skies
with Black is Beautiful
no, my white brother
James Brown has never dropped
off the map of music
the Godfather of soul
not as long as the sky is sky
someone had to say it loud

PRISON DAY
The California department of corrections, and "rehabilitation" - having brought the word rehabilitation back out of mothballs in 2005, is so far still just a word. Here at New Folsom prison just recently the art-programs that have proved to be self rehabilitating have been severely out back. Weekend programs completely taken away. Programs that supported realness, fostered togetherness of races and being a part of the solutions to problems as oppose to being problems in prison. These programs what little we had, had benefited prisoners lives. Art showing them they can do more and better than just violence. Arts gives prisoners ways to express the realness - what is really human and is going on inside their hearts and souls. Why curtail that! The word "rehabilitation" that was brought back to California Department of Corrections has been gutted like a chicken and reduced to almost nothing. The visual arts, music, lyrics and creative writing programs. So, I hope the prison officials will stand out of the way - those administrators who do not want rehabilitation to happen, and allow prisoners who chose to self-rehabilitation to do. Instead of stopping and suspending art programs that actually do work and make a difference in people's lives. The purpose in any institution must be to re-build lives inside and outside prisons - through light, love, wisdom, education and realness.

BIRD STUFF
Sara and her other plant friends are doing fine. I am getting a chance to water them and speak with them some. I don't get to hang out as much with them because now the art-room is closed now way more then it is opened. When I do get out I still feed the birds and some pigeons and black birds are already pairing up or renewing their vows and love from lost year or past years. The seagulls are hanging out getting a bite too. I have not seen any crows in a while. There are two pair of geese on the big yard in the mornings when I can get out of the cell. I wonder why these geese did not fly south or anywhere for winter? I wonder, have their instinct to fly wherever they usually go for winter, has been impaired somehow, by something man has done. Like what is happening with Polar Bears drowning in their icy worlds because of something man has done to injure Mother Earth.

WRITING STUFF
I held open mic today and most of the fellows in the workshop got up and read some poetry. I also did a lesson - an improvised lesson. I did not know what I was going to do until it happened. I decided to do a group poem, where each person contribute one line on one sheet of paper, on the same topic. I had passed out paper to everyone in the class. Thus I had to come up with something in the moment. I had each person write a line and then pass their paper to the right. I came up with the topic war. A prison official stopped by unannounced to see what was going on in the art-room. The administrator ended up writing lines to the poems being created. Perhaps if people want to see one or two of those poems created from that process, let me know and I'll publish them in my next newsletter. Even though the topic was "war", none of the pieces turned violent. Before the prison administrator left the room, and that he had only meant to observe five or ten minutes. He ended up staying for over an hour. The power of realness and creativity.

STAY REAL SECTION
For love on Valentine's day my arms are wide open and I chose not to be lonely but sometimes loneliness has chosen me:

FOR HOWEVER LONG

winter in the desert
nearly always
the snowflakes melt
before touching the ground
I wonder how it feels
to be in love
and write poetry
to know how a pair
of swans feel together
in their own pond
love, especially when
shared, is limitless
but one love, one heart, alone
what could it be?
a sweet love song on the radio
when there are no lovers
around to hear
one love bird in a treelisten!
if it sings at all
it is slightly off key
I long to lie close to you
on the banks of a glowing lake
eating pizza you made
just for me
sharing some silence, the same silence
blending with nature
at dusk the sun screams over
the lake
and it's waters shimmers hello
I long to read you
the poetry you inspire
to have the words embraced
by your heart and soul
to see your face light up
to have you read some for me
to hear the words held
by your breath
spoken by your lips
the lake glistens under
a smiling full moon
it ignites our spirits
to kiss your lips
under it's beams
to hold you as flowers bloom
the buds burst and spring
turns to summer
in time the great pyramids
of Egypt
will crumble to the ground
the seven wonders of the word
will not be so wonderful
our bodies, these shells
where we live
will return to dust
yet, I shall adore you
I shall want to kiss
and hold you
for however long
forever is:

Dedicated to loneliness love