Behind the Walls
by Frank Watson
Haiku Version

the prison had only
one unmarked white van
to reveal its secrets

his fingers felt each brick
of the prison’s wall
as he tried to climb out

he drove down
the long, narrow driveway
of the prison he called home

the trees
just beyond the wall
were so calm

the man looked out
his little window
and saw a wall

the grass
just beyond the wall
was manicured perfectly

he came in a bus
but left
on his feet


Spoken Verse Version

I came in a bus all wound up
at how they looked at us;
behind the brick walls
it’s hard to take a fall.

Window carved of concrete—
narrow view, I see the street;
life’s got me beat
from big ol’ Bubba—there’s no retreat.

The trees outside are calm
I dream to take them in my arms
but outside these psycho halls
is nothing but long brick walls.

The grass outside is trim
and in the wind, I sing a subtle hymn:
a bus took me here from off the street
but I’ll leave with just my feet.



Inspiration

This was inspired by a simple photograph of a brick building and an unmarked white van in the driveway. I don't think the building had anything to do with prison, but for some reason I couldn't get that image out of my mind. I started thinking of people taken away to rendition in unmarked vehicles and then as I played with it more I formed a generalized image of the narrator going to prison and thinking of life on the outside--in view, but not attainable.


All writings and translations are Copyright © by Frank Watson, also writing as "Blue Flute" (2011-2014).
Year: 
2013