Category Archives: poetry

THE PLEDGE

I pledge allegiance
to romance
of the Universal States of Consciousness
and to the essence
for which it stands
one love
under God
indispensable
with kisses and orgasms
for all!

To: Munchkin
From:C-Note
Copyright 2017 Donald “C-Note” Hooker

THO HER NAME IS NOT GIBRALTAR, STILL SHE’S CALLED THE “ROCK”

She once belonged to a community that lived high in the California Franciscan sky.
Who was torn apart by war with the Sky.
They fell to Earth, but the Rivers would not let them settle their.
They drove them to the Ocean where they fell to the floor with other displaced people and called their name ALCATRAZ.
Once settled, they could not rest as other displaced people settled on top of them.
And so it goes, four other settlements settled on top until they were 30 miles below.
But a great shift in geological politics were to occur when the Farallon Tectonic Plate people went against the great North American Tectonic Plate people, and upheaved all the settled people.
Now the Alcatraz people lived on top of all the settlements, and the San Bruno Mountain people, the last to settle, now lives where Alcatraz once dwelled.
Having dealt with the pressures of 30 miles at the bottom of the Ocean, she’s now mightier and stronger than before.
Resistant to the wiles of the Sky.
Tho no longer held in her former elevated state, elevated nevertheless into her former regal and majesty.
Tho her name is not Gibraltar, still she’s called “The Rock.”

by C-Note

©2017 Donald”C-Note” Hooker

Tho Her Name Is Not Gibraltar, Still She’s Called “The Rock,” is an allegorical work that gives animation to the inanimate. It is the origins of Alcatraz. Alcatraz began as a mountain; who as the result of the elements, suffered erosion. The erosion was washed into the ocean by the rivers, where it settled to the bottom. More erosion and more and more erosion settled on top of that initial settlement that geologist call Alcatraz. Then two tectonic plates collided and caused the bottom settlement to be the top settlement, and the top to be the bottom. Having been buried 30 miles and under the pressure of the ocean, Alcatraz rocks are wheather proof. Doesn’t she now sit regal and majestic?

[Editor’s Note]: Tho Her Name Is Not Gibraltar, Still She’s Called “The Rock”, is a work that was specifically created for the Art Escape At Alcatraz, prisoner art exhibit on Alcatraz island May-June 2017, curated by Prison Art Touching Hearts.
Help P.A.T.H. in their mission of touching hearts through prison art and give a donation.

YOUR INTERSTELLAR

The Sol
of her solar winds
crossed my face

Dusk filled dust
is what I taste

But still
I soldier on
Still
I launch into the madness
of a quickened pace

You are the light of my world
and as this hunk of rock
rotates itself, away from you
Still
I solider on

Tho darkness becomes nigh
and the twilight sets on our love
I’ll just set my sights higher
in the sky

I know if I seek the Heavens
where the gods abode
I’ll find your light the brightest
amongst Heaven’s neon lights

And so shall you be
my hope eternity
till fortunes shift
and this hunky rock gives the gift
of a new horizon
and the soul
of your solar winds
across
my face.

To: Mickie
Love C-Note
poem #1

@2017 C-Note

EYES WITHOUT A FACE

img_20161119_084055
Why
condemn Her
To life without the possibility of parole
Why
condemn She
When societal forces may have played a role
Why
condemn Them
The 175 women
serving life without the possibility of parole

About the Paintoem
Poem by: Cn
Painting by: Cn; JoJo WhildenNetflix

Eyes Without A Face, is the prequel to the Paintoem, ” Life Without the Possibility of Parole.”
“Apparently I had already written a poem for that Paintoem that I wasn’t aware of,” says Cn. “I felt this poem published by itself is bland. So I had to come up with an image. I used a photo from “Orange is the New Black,” whited out their faces on the theory of the nameless-faceless people. I’m working on another piece in which the piece’s title comes from a classic song. I left the eyes for Billy Idol’s, song, “Eyes Without A Face,” and that would represent the nameless-faceless 175+ women serving a prison sentence of Life Without the Possibility of Parole (LWOP), at the Central California Women’s Facility (CCWF).

[Editor’s Note ]: This Paintoem, like all Paintoems, are given to the public, to have free use rights, so long as acknowledgement is given to the artist(s).

Links to other Paintoems:
Mprisond
My Dilemma
Tears of the Mothers
Black August-Los Angeles
Life Without the Possibility of Parole
More Paintoems

TEARS OF THE MOTHERS

tears-of-the-mothers-edgar-guerrilla-prince-aguirre
Gunshots
or handcuffs
Mother’s love
not enuff
still got snuffed
or locked away

What’s a mom to do?
Cause if you cry
and post a hashtag
as in Black Lives
you’ll be vilified

If your tears
bring a makeshift memorial
on the sidewalk
they’ll tear it down

Prince taught us
that doves cry
but if you’re poor
or of color
These mothers’ cries
mainstream America
despise
The tears
of
these
Mothers

ABOUT THE PAINTOEM
Poem by: Cn
Painting by: Edgar “Guerilla Prince” Aguirre

“Tears of the Mothers,” is an original work of ink on paper. Done by Guerilla Prince, in 2015. He donated this work to Father Boyle, of “Homeboy Industries,” in Los Angeles, California. However, you can still buy prints of this piece, and other related products, at Fine Art America

[Editor’s Note ]: This Paintoem, like all Paintoems, are given to the public, to have free use rights, so long as acknowledgement is given to the artist(s).

Links to other Paintoems:
Mprisond
My Dilemma
Black August-Los Angeles
Life Without the Possibility of Parole
More Paintoems

Mprisond

img_20161119_100626

Rapunzel could let down her hair
because someone cared
Letting down my hair
I wouldn’t dare
So all I do is stare
at the bliss
of all things I miss
Mother Nature’s wonders
Cause Father Time
wants his due
and the world ain’t got a clue
Here I stare alone
in my room
cell block
Twenty-two

About the Paintoem
Poem by: Cn
Painting by: Cn

“Mprisond,” is an original work of wax, ink, and graphite on paper. Done by Cn, in 2014. It is the sequel, to another piece “My Dilemma,” done in 2009. Cn was asked to create poetry, around some of his artwork being exhibited at the Escaping Time, Prisoner Art Exhibit, on Governor’s Island, New York City, July 26, 2016-October 2, 2016. Both the poet and we agree, that the image and poem, may be used in conjunction for publication, exhibition, and/or performance, without our expressed permission, so long as the artist-poet, is acknowledged/mentioned, as the creator of these works, e.g., by Cn. This is the genesis of the Paintoem. “Mprisond,” was sold in 2016, at the” Through the Wall,” Prisoner Art Exhibit, at the CB1-Guest Gallery, in downtown Los Angeles. However, you can still buy prints of this piece, and other related products, at Fine Art America

[Editor’s Note ]: This Paintoem, like all Paintoems, are given to the public, to have free use rights, so long as acknowledgement is given to the artist(s).

Links to other Paintoems:
My Dilemma
Tears of the Mothers
Black August-Los Angeles
Life Without the Possibility of Parole
More Paintoems
Related Article:
Help Break Prisoner Art Exhibition Record

More poetry by Cn: THE CRIMINALIZATION OF OUR AMERICAN CIVILIZATION (This Is Not A Manifesto)
It Must End! (BLACK FEMALE BOYCOTTS AGAINST BLACK MEN IN THE PEN)
More paintings by Cn:
Diana
Colored Girl Highlighted

It Must End! BLACK FEMALE BOYCOTTS AGAINST BLACK MEN IN THE PEN.

IMG_20160613_074604
So they dun killed some black boys
that’ll never grow up to be black men.
So you dun had an epiphany
WHERE ARE ALL THE MEN?

Little black boy
killed in the streets
not guilty verdict
a jury did reach
Teary-eyed sista
signed off on Facebook that day
these final words, she had to say
BLACK LIVES MATTER

I know black folks
didn’t think
George Zimmerman
was the final chapter
Cause a young boy in Missouri
got killed
to show you
Black Lives Don’t Matter.

Presidential Election
now these women all in a tuff
Who dey think they is
calling out Hillary Clinton
that ain’t enough.

Bill Clinton’s Crime Bill was passed 22 years ago
So where have you been?
You just now dun figured out
black men
been languishing
in these pens?

I say It Must End!”
and I swear I mean it too
cause it’s year twenty two
and I still ain’t got no letter from you.

Come on Sistas
y’all out there
loud mouth protesting
But you ain’t talking to me
you talking to them.

When I hear dem women speak
Mr.Charlie,
let my men free
Y’all make good sound bites
in dem public squares
But alone
in my prison cell
your voice is not there.

You can Instagram, Tweet, and Facebook all day
But when it comes to really giving bac
writing a letter
you have nothing to say

You’re speaking to the media
and whoever will listen
about what have you done
wit our men
you know
the ones locked up
in the pen

Now he’s been down thirty
Me
just twenty-two
Now I don’t know
What you got going on
but I never heard from you

When was the last time
you sat down and wrote him a letter?
I know he dun sent you five
and you still ain’t got bac
with some jive.

Where all the Sistas in the V.I.?
Just Snow Bunnies and Latinas
supportin your men
So the question gots to be asked
Where Have Y’all Been?

When I see a Sista
I can’t laugh
I can’t cry
All I can do
is die inside

For twenty long years
I ain’t never been
One of these Sistas
Brotha

Let alone
one of dey Lovers

You ain’t never seen me
up in the V.I.
Wit one of dem Sistas
who be lookn so fly

So you damn right
I’m bitter
Wit a Heart so cold
Colder than Sister Souljah’s
Coldest Winter

Cause where all these Black Women been
Since they dun hauled all us men
to the pen

Ain’t nayer a Sista
ever wrote me a letter
never gave me a chance
if I had words to say
to make her life better

But you won’t put paper to pen
Cause a real friend
you might find in the end

Just a bunch of lonely Black Men
dying for communion
without kin
Kinship
Friendship
Relationship
Companionship

A message to the Black Woman
come heal a Brotha
I know you think
your protesting and marching
is something true
But Black Women
ain’t writing Black Brothas
and that has meaning too

Some Brothas don’t care
you’re just now coming
late to the party
But I do
alone in my room
longing for a Shawty

Cause each year
tops the year before
of prisoner exonerations
Ain’t making excuses for the
guilty
but ain’t all convictions
real you see

25 years to  life
for stealing aspirin
for a teething daughter
getting more time
than committing manslaughter

So you’re just now discovering
Black Men are locked
and you wanna protest
Am I supposed to be impressed?
Nah,
I’m depressed

Some men
in the pen
have been driven
to psyche meds
cause Black Women
dun left us for dead
I’ve chosen another route
instead
So let it be said
in the verses
you’ve read
It Must End!
BLACK FEMALE BOYCOTTS
AGAINST BLACK MEN
IN THE PEN

by Cn

Editor’s NoteTo read another epic poem by this poet, check out: THE CRIMINALIZATION OF OUR AMERICAN CIVILIZATION (This Is Not A Manifesto)