Out of Time and Out of Words

Winter’s cold
or evening’s night
fireplace warmth
Bear skin rug
the meeting place
out of time
and out of words.



Da Woman

I seen the sunrise the other day, and it was incredible.
But not as incredible as you, when I first laid my eyes on you.
Then my soul had a quivah, my core a tightening.
My eyes a blinking (cause I had to look twice).
What was before my eyes to see was quite, quite, the woman.



The Sol
of her solar winds
crossed my face

Dusk filled dust
is what I taste

But still
I soldier on
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
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
my face.

To: Mickie
Love C-Note
poem #1

@2017 C-Note


They call me Mr.Warden
and in my mansion
there are many rooms
Rooms of despair
where nobody cares
If you live or die
Where nobody cares
if you scream or cry
So addicts beware
the high you receive today
Will be the low
I’ll give tomorrow

Donald “C-Note” Hooker
©2017 C-Note


When It’s Over And Done
And You Can’t Change What’s Passed
And The Memories Linger On
Wishing You Could Rearrange
What’s Causing Those Regrets

But You’re Forced To Live With What Is
Finding It Hard To Forgive Yourself
Never Finding The Reason Why, No Excusing You
Best To Abandon Trying To Justify
Why You Do What You Do

Ignorance Is No Excuse, Though It Be True
Fact Is, There Was A Lesson You Didn’t Learn
So It All Comes Back To You
Your Memory Only Serves To Punish
So I Try Whatever Helps Me To Forgot
Though There Is Nowhere Safe To Flee

I Keep On Placing My Bet
To Be Rid Of That Part Of Me
That I Will Always Regret
Not Finding That Key.

Eric W.Davis
AKA. Sam’i A. Mateen



is the place to be
Fun living
is the life for me
Spacious places
far and wide
Except at C.I.W.
home to women suicides

About the Paintoem
Poem by: Cn
Painting by: Cn

We create monsters
of ugliness
but we’re scared
to look at
our own creations.

Strange Fruit, is an original work of wax on paper; made in the form of a collage. Done by Cn in 2017. “When I had to do an expedited visual work for the Paintoem, Life Without the Possibility of Parole, I used an image from a magazine, but drew the background,” says Cn. “I have a push, or thirst to bring attention to women issues. That’s what Life Without the Possibility of Parole is about. Strange Fruit, is to draw attention to a report that I read in the October 2016, edition of the San Quentin News. It stated, ‘During an 18-month period in 2014-15, the suicide rate at the California Institution for Women (C.I.W.) was eight times the national average for women prisoners and five times the rate for the entire California prison system.’ When I did Life Without, there was an aesthetic there. This was from a fashion magazine. This was of a white woman, a young white woman, on a very serious subject. I say to myself, ‘Hey, much support in the prisoner rights movement comes from older white women in the Catholic Church. This is an image of them. They see their younger selves in her. Promote the $#@! out of this work.’ I could have used that same racial device in Strange Fruit. With Life Without, it was about the aesthetics. It was about the shape of that image in the magazine. Later on, I realized how I could use race to my benefit. That device really did not go unnoticed to me when doing a work on women suicide. But I couldn’t play on white populism; I had to speak the truth. So a black woman had to be used. Blacks out number all the other races combined in incarceration. There are lots of ways of committing suicide, but I think the hanging is the most salient in our human conscious. That being the case, that brings in Strange Fruit. ‘Strange Fruit,’ is the title to a song, sung by Billie Holiday. The tener of the song is about all this strange fruit hanging from these trees in the South. What was this strange fruit? Nooses around the necks of dead African-Americans. That’s why the piece is entitled ‘Strange Fruit.’ That’s why there’s a noose around her neck. Why a collage? Because I had discovered with Life Without, collages create a certain depth perception. The poem, is a play on the CBS television show Beverly Hillbillies. ‘California/is the place to be/Fun living/is the life for me…’ In Black intelligentsia, and its grass roots also, they have really latched onto Michelle Alexander’s seminal work, ‘The New Jim Crow (Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness.’ So here is her thesis, that 21st Century mass incarceration, and post incarceration reentry, looks very similar to 20th Century Jim Crow laws in the deep South. People generally agree with her thesis, and actively use the siren call end the New Jim Crow. Incarcerated blacks even started the Neo Jim Crow Art movement, to which this piece is a part of. I hold up Sandra Bland as our 21st Century’s Emmett Till. Emmett Till, like Sandra Bland was a fellow Chicagoan who went down South. Emmett allegedly in 1955 made a whistling sound in the general area of a white woman. He was only 14 years of age. He was bludgeon to death. His mother, from the North (Chicago), wanted an open casket burial to which a Jet Magazine photographer snapped a picture of his gruesome remains. It was the shot (photo shoot), heard around the world. Well, I’ve been holding up Sandra Bland to go with the theme of this work. She is our 21st Century version of Emmett Till. What was her offense that caused her to lose her life? It started with a traffic stop; whose legitimacy is dubious at best. But an officer who physically feels the need to pull a motorist out of their car for smoking a cigarette? An activity that is associated with a high degree of stress, to which this encounter with this law enforcement obviously was. But I think anytime a person comes in contact with law enforcement, and especially an African-American with a white officer, it is very harrowing; because an African-American never knows where this thing is going. And Ms.Bland allegedly or apparently committed suicide while in a jail holding cell for a nonsensical lane change violation. To which the officer was fired as a result of this incident. In certain activist circles, it’s common to hear women say, ‘Prisons were not designed or intended for women.'” Strange Fruit is still retained by Cn until he can find a party interested in the work. 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
More Paintoems







CAROL [The CAROL role must have the highest pitched voice]


A YOUNG WOMAN and OLD WOMAN are in a courthouse, prisoner, holding cell. The YOUNG WOMAN is pacing the floor.
YOUNG WOMAN: I wonder what they’re going to do? My lawyer said…
OLD WOMAN: Ah, the heck with them lawyers, all they do is lie. They tell you what you wanna hear to get you to plead guilty, then when you get upstate it’s a whole nother story.
In comes KAY crying.
OLD WOMAN: Hey, nobody wants to hear you crying, you ain’t the only one who got problems here.
YOUNG WOMAN: Do you always got to be so negative. Do you see she’s hurting?
OLD WOMAN: [Stands up with her fist balled up] Who you talking to Missy, I’ll deck both you and Miss Sunshine. Now stop your crying!
KAY: [Stops crying, does slow whimpering]
YOUNG WOMAN: Hey, whatcha crying for?
KAY: I just got Life Without the Possibility of Parole.
YOUNG WOMAN: Whoa, whatcha do?
KAY: [About to speak]
OLD WOMAN: Don’t answer that. Never answer that. Ain’t nobody suppose to ask you whatcha in for. And if they do, don’t tell them.
KAY: [Looks at the OLD WOMAN and the YOUNG WOMAN]
OLD WOMAN: Life Without eh, well you still won’t look as good as me when you get my age. [Smiles with missing teeth]
YOUNG WOMAN: Ugh, your teeth are missing.
OLD WOMAN: You want your teeth missing too, I can arrange it you know.
KAY: [Asks if she’s been to the pen? What is waiting for her? Both OLD WOMAN and YOUNG WOMAN tell her all the programs she can get into.]
KAY arrives at prison, Central California Women’s Facility (CCWF). She awaits outside her newly assigned cell carrying a bedroll. Inside is CAROL, her now cellmate. Cell door entrance has been electronically opened by a guard in a control booth. Once inside, the Guard closes the door electronically.
CAROL: Hi, I’m Carol.
KAY: [Throws bed roll on her bunk and begins to quiz CAROL about the program] So what do you gals do around here all day?
CAROL: Nothing.
KAY: You gals do go out to the yard, get some exercise?
CAROL: Nope.
KAY: [Looks incredulous] We just stay in the cell all day?
CAROL: Yeah.
KAY: Never go out????
CAROL: We do, but we’re on lockdown right now.
KAY: For what?
CAROL: A sticking.
KAY: Wow.
CAROL: Yeah, these women can be vicious.
KAY: How long you’ve been here?
CAROL: Seven years.
KAY: In this cell?
CAROL: Nah, I just moved to this cell.
KAY: When we’re not on lockdown, do they have any programs we can do?
CAROL: School or work.
KAY: What kind of work?
CAROL: In the kitchen, yard crew, or building porter.
KAY: I heard you can get trades at prison.
CAROL: Yeah you could, but they moved all vocational trades off the level four, maximum security yards.
KAY: Why they do that?
CAROL: Budget. We’re not worth spending the money on. These are the yards with the long-timers, and if you are a short-timer on one of these yards, then you’re a screwup.
KAY: I’m not worth spending the money on?
CAROL: None of us are.
KAY: [Looks dismayed]
CAROL: Kay, I finally got a way to get you more out of the cell time.
KAY: Really??? I can’t believe it’s been 5 years and they still haven’t given me a job or anything to do.
CAROL: That’s because nobody goes home from a level four. So when they do get a job they stay in them for years and years. It’s not like the Men’s prison, they have lots of level fours and lots of prisons. We only have this one.
KAY: That’s true. So what did you get me hooked up for?
KAY: A.A.? What’s that?
CAROL: Alcoholic Anonymous.
KAY: Really Carol, that’s the best you could do. I don’t drink, you know that.
CAROL: I know, but I was thinking since you got time to do, that you could start your own group and help out these women here.
KAY: Really!!!
CAROL: Yeah.
KAY: Okay, when we start?
CAROL: Well one of the blacks, said in about 2 weeks. She was going around signing people up, so I signed us up. Apparently her boss who is a free staff and works in the canteen put in an application with the warden to open up A.A. classes.
KAY: That’s great! [Kay and Carol jump up and down with excitement]
[2 weeks later, CAROL and KAY are doing their hair and putting on their best prison clothes for the A.A. meeting in about an hour.]
KAY: You didn’t tell me this A.A., would be scheduled during our yard time.
CAROL: I know. I didn’t know either, but we have to give up our yard to go to A.A., to get the lessons. You want to teach the other women right?
KAY: Yeah [KAY and CAROL starts jumping up and down with excitement]
Prison Guard announces names over the loudspeaker of the prisoners slated for A.A..
PRISON GUARD: Attention in the building, attention in the building, listen up. The following inmates are to report to the building 5 dining hall for A.A.. Sarina Ruiz; Sharon Walton; Carol Wells; Carmen Hildago; Tawana Alexander. If I called your name, when your door opens, step out and report to A.A..
KAY: What happened! They didn’t call my name.
CAROL: I know.
KAY: Are You sure you got me on the list?
CAROL: Positive. I signed you up first, then mine right under yours.
KAY: I bet you one of those wenches took my name off in favor of one of their friends.
CAROL: Now we don’t know that for sure Kay. [Cell doors open] I gotta go. I’ll tell you what’s going on when I get back.
2-hours later, Carol enters the cell looking bewildered
KAY: Carol, what’s wrong, what did they tell you?
CAROL: [CAROL with tears in her eyes tells KAY] They say you have life without the possibility of parole and that no LWOP’ers can participate in any state run program.
KAY: But A.A., is not state ran.
CAROL: I know. But the sponsors check is coming from the state.
KAY: Who told you that?
CAROL: Sissy. She has Life Without, and been in prison for 37 years.
KAY: Well we’re going to go and talk to her.
[KAY and CAROL finds SISSY on the yard.]
KAY: Hi Sissy.
SISSY: Hi Kay.
KAY: Sissy, I have Life Without. I can’t be in any programs?
SISSY: Nah. We can’t get in any programs.
CAROL: How come?
SISSY: We’re never getting out. So they think. Every time some man rapes a little girl, they change the laws to come down really hard. But it never screws the child rapist murderer, but everyone else. The three strikes law. A child rapist murderer. Now they’re giving people 25 years to life for a $2 bump. This one gal got 25 years to life for stealing aspirin for her teething daughter. And my cousin’s boyfriend got 25 years to life for driving a car without the owner’s consent.
SISSY: They use to give LWOP’ers a chance to go to the Board after 30 years. But guess what?
CAROL: A man raped a little girl and killed her.
SISSY: You got that right. Now the parole board can deny up to 15 years before you get another hearing. And as for us. The LOWP’ers. They took our parole board chances all together.
KAY: That don’t make sense.
SISSY: None of it makes sense. People get their life without commuted to life with the possibility of parole all the time. But then when you go to the parole board you have no certificates in your file. Because when you had life without, you weren’t allowed to participate in any programs. So you’re way behind the eight ball as far as parole suitability. Everybody else who’s been down a long time the board sees all these self-help and other good stuff to make release. But with you and I. Nothing. So we’re not going home even if we do get our sentences commuted.
CAROL: That’s not fair.
SISSY: I know, but what can we do.
KAY: I know.
KAY, CAROL, and SISSY, all decide to start their own A.A. group once CAROL completes A.A.. Six months later, KAY, CAROL, SISSY, and 15 other prisoners, mostly LWOP’ers, begin their first A.A. meeting.
A prison guard at a considerable distance from the group asks a prisoner, “What’s going on over there?”

PRISON GUARD: Eh, eh you, come here.
PRISON GUARD: What they got going on over there?
PRISONER: They’re doing an A.A. group.
PRISON GUARD: Those are Life Withouters. They’re not supposed to be in no self help group. [Prison guard radios in] lay the yard, lay the yard down, sound the alarm.
30 guards come and lock up all the women in the hole. After 3 days, they have their administrative segregation assessment hearing. CAROL is called first and returns to tell the others the news.
KAY: Carol tell us what happened?
CAROL: They’re releasing me out the hole.
KAY: See Sissy, I told you this was nothing.
CAROL: That’s not true Kay. They’re keeping all the Life Withouters back here and giving them SHU terms.
KAY: SHU Terms! But I thought they ended long-term solitary confinement.
CAROL: No Kay. They say you’re all a part of a disruptive group, and that you pose a threat to the safety and security of the institution.
KAY: For being in A.A.?
CAROL: No. For being a Life Withouter in A.A. and that you and Sissy are the ringleaders because Sissy knows better.
KAY: How long they say we have to stay in solitary confinement?
CAROL: Indefinitely! [Cell door opens releasing CAROL out of the hole. CAROL shouts] Kay the cell door is opening they’re taking me out of here!
KAY: [Realizing that she has only seconds as she will never see CAROL again in her life, yells] Carol!
CAROL: [Yells back] Kay!
KAY: [Yells] I love you!
CAROL: [Yells back, with tears welling up] You’re awesome Kay, I’ll never forget you!
KAY: [Yells] I’ll never forget you too!
CAROL: [Yells back] I love you too, and remember, if I ever have a daughter I’m naming her after you.
Before Kay could utter another word, the heavy, rusty, iron door that led out of the long corridor where the women in the hole were being kept, reverberated with a bellicose roar from being slammed shut. Then, there was a deafening sound. Silence. [Allow for a considerable amount of time for silence before announcing The End. Let the audience feel the effects of absolute silence]
The End

©2016 Donald “C-Note” Hooker

Editor’s Note: Life Without the Possibility of Parole (a prison play) is a series of work, created around a poem of the same title. This poem inspired a painting (Life Without the Possibility of Parole) and a paintoem (Life Without the Possibility of Parole). The artist has more to come, surrounding just this piece “Life Without the Possibility of Parole.”