Nature Creates in the midst of disaster, Love


Dear Chicano,

I sometimes fail to understand where your strength comes from,
in the midst of Hell, terror, and pain that trails all around you.

Oh my God, I don’t see how you do it; persevere, I would have killed myself by now

Yes, I’ve had several therapists/ people say that to me over the years, and I could say the same to you…how?
You were the only man in my whole life who could claim my heart and soul, tell me off when I needed it, or comfort.
You were also my rock, my safe place.

People make excuses for falling out of love, to give them lease to roam; however, that is not the case.
When Creator/God binds two together, it will not be undone; it remains firece, true, and forged from the universal flow.
I want you now as I did the first time your calloused hand touched my bare skin fourteen years ago.
There is a calmness now, a knowing that was not there in the beginning, but that is earned through time.
Nature always finds a way to right things, even when all seems lost.

I guess that’s how you keep on, you too seek equilibrium, waiting for another chance to create.

That’s why Laura sits on the eggs, 14 in all, even though they will begin hatching in October.
She knows she has to help the flock survive, we almost lost them all to the coyotes,

And she trusts that her master will provide…

I Felt for so long that I was your Soul Mate



You don’t need to cry about missing the visit.

Please know that I know you want to visit, and most of the time,

that is enough. Yes, I would love for you to come always, but I don’t need you to suffer for naught.

Yeah, I know I can do this time in here. God is with me, so who can be against me?        soul mates

I just need some things to do to get me through the day. I read the bible that you sent me, and I read some other booklets that the Good News Magazine sent. I as do word searches and listen to sermons, and world news.

Most of the guys here don’t seem to be suffering. They wear this as a badge of honor. They talk to each other like brothers and just sleep, for the most part. They do like to talk late at night, which means I have to ear ear plugs.

Well, I guess you haven’t gotten some of my other letters yet. The lawyer’s work will take some time, and I won’t know anything for awhile.

You know, you talk about when we first met, and just the other day I was thinking about that. It could have been when you were thinking about it, or because I was it made you think of it. We were always like that, finishing each others sentences, feeling each other’s thoughts, because I know we are bound together. That’s why I can feel you so close to me and know what you feel. I have to hold back tears, and feel like exploding because I know when you’ve been with another, or I know when you’re sad or crying.

Your writing about when we first met reminded me of how drawn I was to you, and how I didn’t want to let you go. I had to woe you for three weeks! I sit here on the bunk and just burst out laughing when I got to the part about how your bed would slide across the floor! It would hit the other wall, and just keep bouncing against it until we got done, that stupid litle chihuahua of yours barking the whole time!


Yes, it meant the world to me to watch our sons being born, knowing that you and I made these little people together, from our love for each other. It was scary when A took so long to come out, and then to see his head as he emerged, with his little fist smashed against his face, and you screaming because he seemed to be stuck. Then, finally, he appeared, and the midwife pulled him out to the world, cleaned him off, and handed him to me. To see those big, wide eyes looking back at me, and his little out of shape head, it was amazing!

It took you FOR ever to open your eyes, and then to hold him close, your eyes all blood shot, exhausted, but he was here. We struggled so much to get him on the breast, but finally figured out how to help him, especially after knowing he was tongue-tied. Now, looking back, being with you was the only thing I did right.

Sometimes when I read your letters, I can feel your hair tickling my nose! I feel you with me so often as though we are talking about your day.

I pray for you and the boys, and await for us to be brought back together. I need to feel you close to me, because I feel so alone. You complete me as a man, just as God completes me spiritually.

I felt for so long that I was your soul mate, but I didn’t know if you ever felt that way about me. That is the only way to explain why we feel each other closely, and know what the other is thinking at times. We are more connected than most can explain. Please forgive me for all the times I was an “ass”, and for being so selfish.

You pushed me to seek God always, and I refused to listen, but you stayed with me anyway, through it all. Now, I’m pushing you to God for the love you need just as I gave you the love you needed back then.

I love you so much and feel you near me always. I think of you all throughout the day, and can’t wait until we can be together again. I’m closing now, so I can get this in the mail.

I love you all.


The need for human touch is so great


Dear Shel,

I miss going outside.

They let us go outside today, but it was windy, and cold.

There were only six of us that went outside, because they won’t tell us on our ‘break’


Nakhal Fort

“My soul finds rest in God alone; my salvation comes from him. 2 He alone is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will never be shaken…(Psalms 62:vs.1,2)”

if we are going outside or not, so most stay inside. But, if all the guys would say ‘yes’,  they’d have to take us outside because of our numbers.I really wish I could touch you. It seems to be what I miss most, I guess, as I never could keep my hands off of you!

Please read Psalms 62: 1-8. It is a great and wonderful Psalm, and you will feel its power.

I’ve been listening to a lot of preaching lately, as they haven’t taken my radio yet.

God is good!

I would really liketo see you get back into going to church, you and the boys could use it.

I miss going; even here, I had gotten away from the true meaning of it because of my hardened heart.

I didn’t even realize it! I see now that God needed to sit me down to talk to me like a small child.

We are going through troubling times, and we need to wait in silence for God.

We always want to run to a crowd, as the noise drowns out His Voice.

I don’t feel alone any more. I feel God with me, but the need for human touch is so great.

I think my inner child needs the comfort of your mothering love more now than ever.

I pulled away from you so many times. I hope you forgive me for that.

Please tell the boys that I’m asking for forgiveness from them, as well.

I was very mean, at times, and overbearing, selfish, and hurtful. I want them to heal.

The same for you. If you need to say anything to me, do so that you might heal.

I see it now, that I treated you the same way.

Please forgive me.

Yours, Chicano

The Animal, Me


So, if you make less than $15. a month,

then you remain indigent. For each write up, we are billed $10.00.  poor

A cell mate was written up because he stood up to the fact

that sometimes we only get 5 minutes to eat chow.

He was so upset he made a scene and got written up 8 times in a span of 15 minutes.

He doesn’t get much from the outside, so he takes any job he can, but he might only make $2.00 a week, at .40 a day.

It wil take him forever to pay that $80.00 off, and if he gets any money from the outside, the prison will take it all.

The prison is so corrupt that is is unbelievable. They just do what they want, and we have to take it.

That A charge I got for not wanting to get locked up in that hot box only has one other charge higher, and that would have been if I had taken someone hostage! Can you believe that?!?

I would have gotten a lesser charge if I had been fighting with an inmate, or even a guard. No one even paid attention to my appeal. Now, if I had pled guilty, they would have given me a ‘B’ charge, and you can call me hard headed if you want, but I know I am not guilty of trying to start a riot.

Off.W was not being truthful. He came into the wing and laughed because he knew that we were trying to cool down our cell, which was like a brick oven because the sun hits the cement wall all day with no air conditioning.

When someone leaves their dog in a car to go shopping, that person can get charged for cruelty to animals if it is a hot day, or miserable for the animal, yet us humans can sit locked in a cell that is 90 plus degrees for several hours a day, for several days, and no one gets penalized, but the animal, me.

They force inmates to do hazmat cleanup without any training

Sept.18, 2013

Hello, dear.

Today Lt. came to tell me that some mail got rejected

love lost, musings, solitude, writing

People have forgotten us, but we are still here…”

due to publication/material source that you sent.

You will have to contact the publisher of Solitary Watch and have them send it to me so I can get it.

Even though it is public knowledge, they will not let family members send anything like that to inmates.

I had them send it to my cousin so she can know how bad things are for inmates in general. I’m SO mad. They have taken away all of our rights; the Constitution doesn’t apply to us, neither does Human Rights. The prisons don’t want us to know what the others are doing so that we might become something  and stand together to be heard.

I am so mad, because I really wanted to see what you and the others had to say.

“We are still human,” should be my mission statement. Pets get treated better than we do.

People have forgotten us, but we are still here. We re-enter the world every day, only to be rejected by people who claim that God is their God.

We need other people involved with getting more Inmates’ rights, so the faculty and staff of prisons will be accountable for their actions.

The inmates are forced to do things that no one else wants to, that no one should be doing. There are inmates using lifts to do various tasks up near the ceiling, like plumbing, changing lights and other electrical work without any safety harnesses. These inmates aren’t OSHA trained like we were, and can’t even properly operate the equipment.

They also have inmates in the warehouse taking old mats that we sleep on and tearing them open and just re-arranging the old, lumpy padding inside that may be twenty years old. This material has dead skin, mites, sweat and other hazardous materials in the bedding, and all the inmate has on is a simple pair of gloves and a cheap dust mask.

Then they force inmates to do the hazmat cleanup without any gear on, wiping up feces, blood – things that require special training, and of course, they don’t get any. They are also doing the laundry that is filthy, and all they do is make the inmates get a Hep B shot.

To do this work, we might get .40, .70 or maybe a dollar, A DAY. The cost of a stamp is more than their pay, so they are forced to stay indigent. They can’t make more than the mail they send.


We were a good team…


…although I wasn’t fully into it as you were. I saw things through those false glasses that society often looks through. I was living for this world and not for Christ. More Christians need to get involved and stop sitting on their rumps. Society has almost gotten rid of Christ and everything we believe in about this country and people have got to not let that happen.
I love you with all my heart and miss standing beside you. They may have separated us, but we are still fighting. I will keep standing up for those who can’t. (letters from seg)

I wasn’t Allowed to Speak, and it haunts me, still

All five of them were placed, higgeldy, piggeldy


on the big green lawn tractor.
How they loved, would BEG for rides around the yard,
and you held them all, in some fashion, so that
no one got jealous, even the baby.

You would never know that two years had been spent in court costs – the savings, the Roth,

our minds, our souls in fighting to get custody of these three children that time forgot.

You were so afraid the judge wouldn’t give you all 3, so you agreed to let your ex keep the five year old.

The oldest, nine, didn’t even know all the letters of the alphabet, or what an orange was.

It took two years of homeschooling, sweat, tears, and sheer grit to teach those children.

None could write or spell.

That same summer, when the youngest boy, six, was dropped off in the front, with nothing but the clothes

on his back, and flip-flops for his visit, we got a phone call a few minutes later (she never got out the car).

“You can have him.” It’s all she said. Besides, she needed some time apart from her boyfriend.

I’m beginning to understand why the judge wouldn’t let me take the stand.

The Waterfall


How we sweated together,
to make this waterfall come to life; you loved the sound of water so,
and I knew it would be nice for you to hear at night.

I picked out each rock, the slates for their color and potential sound as the water would fall off of each other. We dug, we lifted, tore a few holes in the plastic by mistake, and I think I ran over the shovel; you always made fun of how I couldn’t see to drive…sigh.

We did so much, a team, and always made the kids help. They picked out all of the fish, the plants, and helped us put it all together. It was OUR project.

So, too, this suffering now is ours. We planned it, somewhere among the stars, this contract between you and I. We will make it through, and travel on to some new place, and begin digging again.

I promise not to drive.

Chickens, eggs, home


men, women, relationships, faith

One of your son’s pride and joy, a jungle fowl rooster.




I can’t believe it’s been six years since I bought you those first chicks on your birthday. You’ve kept up with them, helped them hatch, watched them grow…I used to think they were a nuisance, always scratching in the garden, getting on the neighbor’s things and pooping…lol…what I wouldn’t give now for one of your omelets, how the golden yolks stood in the pan when frying…I miss it all.

My Mexican Bull

Two years, nine months, 9 days

since they sent your trial clothes home in a box.

I didn’t know what it was, taped up and from Central Prison,

the worst hellhole in North Carolina.

I was by myself, thank God, for when I tore through the tape, and saw;

remembered what these were, I howled like a wolf


that has just seen its mate torn limb from limb by hunters who only killed for the pelt.

I smelled the fear in your dress shirt, stained with sweat from the trial.

How we waited for hours, the third day in, and the judge brought them all in

and screamed at those old people like they were bad children.

Tonight I sigh deeply, two years and nine months later, for I can’t remember the last time we made love.

I am ashamed by this, because I used to love it so, waiting all hours for you to come home so I could undress you,

rub your head, shoulders, back and arms with almond oil, tell you about all the things the kids tore up or

who beat up who, while your plate was heating in the microwave.

You say you are even stronger now, and I can feel it when you squeeze me tight in visits.

A man who could lift a two hundred pound auger, or a sheet of steel, climb a five story silo, running up the steps all the way, and smoked a pack a day.

How many men could do this?

I don’t know how you never hurt me, but you never really did.

You could make me want to black out, see stars, it was so intense, our connection, man and wife.