In Cardiff Jail

Gold cherry
Poem of the week

By PoetonaHill

Tue, 10 Oct 2017
  • 5421 reads
20 comments
 

In Cardiff Jail

In Cardiff Jail, grey dawn breaks on
razored walls and living-blocks of stone.
High barren landings amplify harsh slamming
gates, and emphasise the echoes of the
bosses' yells and rattled keys of doors that
only ever bang behind.
Alone I trudge the long dark tunnel of
my ''time'' – caged bird, spiralling inside the
wasteland of a mind with nothing gained and nothing left.
Pleasure is the hotplate stop for porridge slop
and morning shuffle round a yard with obscure
friend of bully-boy and baron – grass –
and those but barely sane.
Hear torment in the traffic roar. Is she
some minute blended part of that?
sharing lungfuls of this fitful breeze?
I flee from gulls that scream and soar and
laugh at me, - ''come see, we're free!'' –
and merge into my daily chore of sweep and swab;
then buff the polished floor amid the clanging steel
and shouts; dream my boredom; cry my shame;
or grind my hate and shift the blame.
Again, her ''Dear John'' crashes in my brain,
so blacking out some distant light.
For she's out there somewhere with him,
and I must stay within this wing of rusty bars
and bang-up cells, in my grey world of
yesterdays where tomorrow always
stays some distant unknown-life away.
 

Certificate U
Poem
Philosophy

Comments

Submitted by Insertponceyfre... on

This is all brilliantly done, but I especially liked the image of the gulls mocking the prisoner

 

Submitted by PoetonaHill on

Thanks Ipf

 

Submitted by Ewan on

you had me in the prison there with you.

Fine piece.

Ewan

Author Page at the 'Zon
 

Submitted by PoetonaHill on

Thanks Ewan

 

Submitted by Ed Crane on

Reading it out loud amplifies the feeling of empty dispair. Although you have set this in Cardiff prison it easily could be about the prison of lonliness or depression. Intense piece written at perfect pace.

Well deserved cherries.

 

Submitted by PoetonaHill on

Thanks for the kind remarks Ed

 

Submitted by Rhiannonw on

Is there nothing positive that can fill the time, or is it that one has to have the motivation to get involved in any positive stuff? The bitterness of the loss of the girlfriend's waiting support is very telling, and grind my hate and shift the blame. Rhiannon

 

Submitted by PoetonaHill on

Thanks for that Rhiannon. It's amazing how words can create scenes.

 

Submitted by PoetonaHill on

Thanks for the cherries

 

Submitted by Philip Sidney on

You create such a powerful impression of how it might feel to be in prison, insightful and also full of narrative.  Great piece.

Submitted by PoetonaHill on

Again - thank you Philip

 

Submitted by Philip Sidney on

This wonderful poem makes me appreciate my relative freedom - it's our facebook and twitter pick of the day!  Do share if you like it too.

Submitted by PoetonaHill on

Yes Philip - I guess freedom is just a relative thing. Mostly in the mind I think.

 

Submitted by Ed Crane on

 

 

Submitted by celticman on

yep. great stuff. I'm not going to mention Oscar Wilde and Reading jail. 

 

Submitted by airyfairy on

A great piece.  As well as giving us the narrator's bleak present, we are presented with the question of how a life can be rebuilt after the prison time has ended, or if it can at all.  

Submitted by PoetonaHill on

thanks airyf...

 

Submitted by airyfairy on

Congratulations - this is our Poem of the Week! 

Submitted by PoetonaHill on

Thanks

 

Submitted by Ray Schaufeld on

yes the gulls are free and the prisoner is locked up. Good poem.