Poet’s Note: These poems are from a mother’s perspective (left hand justified) and then the convict/son’s perspective (right-hand justified). They are arranged in chronological order, with a crime, a sentencing, a lament, convict’s observation, mother’s struggle and a last convict’s comment.
Editors Note: To read in continuation with this part, the next part (Son’s part), click on the link below the bio. Perhaps this is the most logical way found to present this series, keeping in mind the need to keep one page de-cluttered as much as possible.
he drinks
he drinks when he’s not with us
he drinks carelessly
until the earth fades to black
and spins merrily
he drinks for every reason
until his thoughts go slack
the way he drinks is scary
he really has the knack
he doesn’t know just what he’s done
when he wakes up again
it might seem like he’s had some fun
he knows he needs to abstain
he drinks to take away the pain
the fear, unhappiness.
the suspicion that he’s been a swain
like all of the rest
he stays put when it’s really bad
he sees the sin and shame
he finds all the shelter to be had
then hunkers down again
he drinks until he blacks out
he drinks alone sometimes
and in the boozy darkness,
release is what he finds
10:42 AM
When you walked out the door
for the last time, with that officer,
saying the impossible words –
a month of rosaries couldn’t keep
us from crying your name while your eyes
begged forgiveness over and over again –
Like we were the women at the foot
of the cross of Jesus, like we were grieving
your death—the loss of life as it had been—murdered
during some night long ago.
The three of us clung to each other
as they took you away
and try as we may, we could not
say good-bye, we could not say
farewell, be well, nor stay safe.
Mother’s Lament
very felon has a mother
who sits wringing her hands,
wondering where she went wrong.
When did she cast the ballot that
sent her child down the wrong path
to this fated day of pain and passion.
She sits wondering when and where
it was that her child, who showed so much promise,
who was so smart, so strong, so successful became
the person capable of doing what is charged of them.
Every felon has a mother who weeps and wails
at the cross, supplicating Jesus to save her child, to pull
them up from the pits they have sunk. She lights candles
and prays petitioned rosaries to Mother Mary,
because Mary knows what hell a mother endures
when her child is convicted and persecuted.
Every felon has a mother who grieves for the lost life;
For her child who has changed the course of their
existence from one road to another, and now
is set to endure the disgrace and hardship
a felon is prescribed to suffer. There are doors
of opportunity that are now closed, lost paths
that are no longer choices, consequences
that limit and eliminate what could have been.
Every felon has a mother who sits up writing letters
to judges and jail wardens on behalf of her child whom
she still loves, despite their despicable act.
Every felon has committed a crime against
someone. Every felon has perpetrated a life
sentence against their own mother, who will
suffer because of this wrong-doing.
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