Prison poems and Prison songs

On this page i will have a selection of prison poems and songs written both by myself and others.

The pen and written word are an invaluable tool with regard to rehabilitation through the arts and im sure there is many a prisoner who will confirm the many hours and days that are filled writing verse.

 

 

In prison some of the old-timers were allowed to mix with us doing work. They were known as ‘Jakeys’ or ‘Winoes’, some of their tales were fascinating.

Although at the time i wasn’t into reading i often wrote lyrics and verses, sometimes about the old jakeys.

Here is one titled an

ODE TO CRAZY JOE

‘ I may be a down and out my boys ,’

said the man called Crazy Joe,’ but young luck was mine way back in time,

And this  hand  was never slow…..

A hand that shook the world ,and was raised for Kings and Queens .

I had my words with mayors and lords –

and i drank with should have beens.

Yeah would you believe i had it all when the gang was much in debt,

i was there and quick to share,

say, give us a cigarette!

Give me a cigarette boys ,to fill my lungs with smoke,

There’s  pleasure in it for a bum like me who stands with an empty poke’.

So we gave him up some cigarettes

And he snatched them like a thief

And the hand that once shook the world was now shaking like a leaf.

WRITTEN BY- JOHNNYBOY STEELE (copyright)

 

WAS IT ME?

Was it me who came into this world to face the strange and new?

Was it me who stood with arms unfurled and knew not what to do ?

Was it me or was it you ?

Was it me who grew up in your cage always longing to be free?

Was it you who flew into a rage because one couldnt see, but was it you or was it me?

WRITTEN BY JOHNNYBOY STEELE (copyright)

THE GYPSY IN THE HEART OF ME

THE GYPSY IN THE HEART OF ME

THERE’S A GYPSY IN THE HEART OF ME AND HE’S GOT A LOT TO SAY,
WITH HIS JOHNNY THIS,AND JOHNNY THAT-AND JOHNNY COME AWAY!
BUT HE’LL BE THE BLEEDIN’ OF ME,OF THAT THERE IS NO DOUBT,
WAS HARD BEING IN THE OLD GAR-T WITH THE GYPSY WANTING OUT.
I WANDERED OVER TRACK N TRAIL; I RAN WITH KITH N KIN…
I WENT BEYOND THE PALE OF THE LAW,AND LIVED A LIFE OF SIN.

I BADE GOODBYE TO THE OLD HOMETOWN,THAT FOR YEARS WERE PART OF ME,
KNEW EVERY NOOK N CRANNY WHEN I DISCOVERED THE GREAT GAR-T.
WAS SUCH A PLACE NO GOD COULD ERASE,I WATCHED MY KINFOLK BLOOM,
AND I KNEW AS I GREW-MUCH LIKE YOU-WOULD ALSO BE MY TOMB!
WAS LIKE A LOVE AFFAIR WITH THE GOOD FOLK THERE,EACH WITH THEIR OWN SWEET MOTHER,
AND TO BE SURE TO BE SURE,WE MAY HAVE BEEN POOR,
BUT ALL ONE AND OTHER;
UP THE CLOSE I LOVED THE MOST,SIX FAMILIES,MAYBE MORE,
WE ALL WERE BROTHERS TO DIFFERENT MOTHERS-AND COULD KNOCK ON ANY DOOR.
‘COME ON IN,’ SOMEONE WOULD SING, ‘AND MAKE YOURSELVES AT HOME…
WE DON’T HAVE MUCH,BUT IT’S YOURS AS SUCH,SO TREAT IT AS YOUR OWN.’
ONE THOUSAND KIDS,MAYBE,TWO WERE ON A NATURAL HIGH,
AND WHAT LIFE OFFERED THERE,WAS SOMETHING RARE,AS WE GREW BY THE BY;
WE HAD IT AL,WE ALL WALKED TALL…TWAS THE GREATEST PLACE TO BE…
NO LAND ON EARTH COULD BE COMPARED TO,
OR MATCH THE GREAT GAR-T.

BUT THAT GYPSY IN THE HEART OF ME HAD AN AWFUL LOT TO SAY,
WITH HIS ‘ JOHNNY THIS,AND JOHNNY THAT – AND JOHNNY,COME AWAY!

WRITTEN BY JOHNNYBOY STEELE (copyright)

———————————————————————————————————————————-

On my last sojurn in Prison i wrote this piece of creative writing about my final dance with opiates, Johnny thinks i went overboard with the slushy mushy stuff, but it conveys i believe, the feelings of withdrawal, some may get it, some won’t, thanks, Danny

THE HEALER

Feelings of shame, guilt and remorse slash and tear at his consciousness, like gnawing worms the need for an opiate comfort blanket blackens his very soul, and sleep is a distant dream.

Hours pass, days, weeks, months but still no respite from his addiction affliction.

Years pass in the penal servitude of his mind, what can enlighten, what can make him snap and transcend these mental chains. Job like Lamentations fill his every breath, petitioning his god for repose or respite, indicted on a charge of a wasted life, his character is a victim of his own avarice and greed.

Then a chink of light breaks into the darkness of his soul, and with it the hope of a better life. It bursts through until the light is so strong it shakes him, it scares him. The light is love with no conditions, no agenda, no assumptions, nothing but pure light and love, it sets him free. The end of all knowledge is love.

WRITTEN BY DANNY CAFFERKEY (copyright)

===============================================================================

The following 3 poems were written by Cumnocks own Steven’Beaver’Donaldson, this guy has had his fair share of trials and troubles, but he is still with his wife Sheila and has 3 lovely kids and is now a grandfather as well, i wish him happiness in the future, he deserves it.


Image may contain: text

The above was written by Steven ‘Beaver’ Donaldson(copyright)

================================================================================

Image may contain: text

Another from Steven ‘Beaver’Donaldson(copyright)

 


Image may contain: text

Written by Steven’Beaver’Donaldson

===============================================================================

Barlinnie special unit