Ramblings from a prison cell 

FEELINGS

Letter (to myself) written to relieve my pent up frustrations.  

I’m feeling the hatred against the system and a sadness about the lack of humanity here building up inside of me.  Whatever happened to love for humanity? This is not a place for caring, camaraderie and support but breeds tension, stress, anxiety, suspicion, fear and doubt. Where are the trusting people, a belief in human goodness or any sensitivity to others feelings. There’s no real friendships and no healthy attachments. 

The vegetarian cuisine leaves lots to the imagination. I get so sick of salmon and quiche! Fortunately they claim they’ve stopped putting bromide a supposed sexual libido depressant in our tea. Coffee is not exactly espresso in here but no one complains because we only get it once a week on Sundays thanks to Jesus.  Lots of excitement builds up here at weekends when, apart from a cup of coffee, we also get cornflakes and a movie. Last week we saw Three Weddings and a Bride – you wouldn’t believe but it brought tears from these men branded by society as hard and ruthless, mean and nasty. 

It’s so civilised here we usually retire after dinner to the smoking room, have a game of pool, a sip of port and discuss Homer, Goethe or Plato. The range and level of philosophical discussion amazes me and it’s a tribute to the education delivered through the prism. The accommodation provided is very practical training for future astronauts. Perhaps we’ve all secretly been chosen as pioneers for training earth settlers to live on outer space colonies.  Who else could survive day after day cooped up in a tiny box with only a porthole sized view of the world? 

Well, I suppose it is also useful training for my projected round the world sailing trip. If there was only the feel of a gentle breeze on my face and the lapping of midnight waves on the shore it would be more appreciated. In prism it’s a well developed regime. The crew and guests have left nothing to chance. The participants change often but the game keeps going. It’s a mammoth chessboard with stalemate as the only outcome and every focus on the calendar.

I just love the communistic spirit here. The kitchens, laundry, cleaning and even the gardens are run along Stalinist principles despite it being set in civilised England.  I awake daily to the sound of sparrows in the garden and sometimes through the night I hear them trying to escape if they have inadvertently broken into the prison. 

Victorian antiquities decorate this fine establishment. Its regal centrepiece is an ornate sixty foot spiral steel staircase worn by the feet of an errant nation. Sometimes dreams are so strong I forget where I am until the bell hop brings breakfast or a roommate leaves for work. I worked one day last week it’s good to feel part of the productive process tying  knots in string used for securing labels to corpses. Well it was either that or maybe mailbags they don’t tell us anything here.  Workers doing this highly trained work get paid extra pennies as in all true capitalist systems but it’s hardly enough to  promote high productivity amongst bank robbers, burglars and con artists. 

Each day we have a compulsory promenading stroll through the gardens meeting friends, checking the weather,  watching the pigeons and enjoying the sweet flowers in the gardens. It’s so easy to ignore the negative living in her majesty’s prism.

ZOO TIME 

It’s zoo time folks and the show is on, we’re open for you every week every day, 

Stare all you like and feed them some buns it’s perfectly safe and there’s nothing to pay, 

Come see the foxes, snakes, wolves and sharks, 

They’re all on display thanks to our narcs, 

They may look timid and seem friendly enough, 

But behind that facade they’re wild, mean and tough, 

They’ll eat you for lunch so they’re kept behind bars, 

We’ve got druggies and drunkards and stealers of cars, 

You’ll see cat burglars, bank robbers and wild soccer fans, 

Like lions when free they’re just lambs in our hands, 

We feed them and house them and then put them to work, 

Without our control they’ll be totally berserk, 

We all know animals are best kept in a cage, 

So don’t growl or bark or you’ll end up here too.

CROCODILE TEARS 

It’s true these words don’t describe my real world 

Peel away the skin and you’ll see how absurd 

The truth lies hidden, sordid and guilt ridden 

chorus 

These crocodile tears, 

Confirming your fears, 

It’s no game we are playing, 

So are you sure what you’re saying, 

Is it true, is it true, is it true?

Original thoughts are as rare as blue moons, 

Are the only options the words of hit tunes? 

Your blues looks paler when seen through my eyes, 

I can’t see your picture but I’ll continue to try. 

These crocodile tears, 

Confirming your fears, 

It’s no game we are playing, 

So are you sure what you’re saying, 

Is it true, is it true, is it true?

I’ve tasted your sweetness in the salt of your tears, 

The flavour mellows over the many years, 

Green can say stop and red can say go, 

One person’s high can be another’s low.

These crocodile tears 

Confirming your fears 

It’s no game we are playing 

So are you sure what you’re saying 

Is it true, is it true, is it true?