A witches heart

Harold Sanford Carter III/112150
807 Cushing Rd.
Warren, Maine 04864-4600

‘A witches heart’

My heart is big for I love nature.
Authority, I always question.
Magick is a current inside me.

Magick is a thought-twisted; bent.
Equilibrium is what I am.

The wise beg for equilibrium.
King master of the middle pillar.
I seek to discover the unknown.

A neophyte on the throne to seek.
No desire makes me a master.

My true master is the Phase of Moon.
Truly indeed, I learn from her tides.
Forever in service the gaia.

Forever not will to hypnotize.
The path reveals my own bewitchment.

Along the path; I even hug trees.
Dancing of love and live to meet Pan.
His forest is indeed my center.

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Don’t Throw Snow

DON’T THROW SNOW *

The prison guard yelled!
“Put that snow down”
The snow ball fell from my hands.
Down to the ground.
Also did my head look down.
I sad in place for a time to ponder.
What harm becomes of snow?
Twa’s not ice that I held
Sensory deprivation.
Just to touch the snow is a privilege.
The prison guard came close.
A shadow upon me.

Inside was oppression
Outside was rage.
OK’
I wont throw snow.
Torture!
My inner child has been held back.

It’s being held hostage.

Harold Sanford Carter III

The Prisoners Dream Girl

The Prisoners dream girl

I would want of her peace and tow birds kiss.

Lots of suspense and what do I do next.

Reading and writing surely her passion.

Apples and berries is all of her scent.

Bonnie and Clyde but nothing of murder.

Two of friendship, holding on to each will.

For the last breath of one, holds as both, cry.

Simple evening food, one great kiss held still.

White soft sand by the lake without any sock.

Her flower dress would ripple with the wind.

She would have dreams of music, as like I.

We would face new love, I would poem, sing;

‘An ole song thats stuck in the 60’s love,

Put a peace sighn up, before I wake up!

Harold Sanford Carter III

Maine State Prison

Recidivism Nightmare

Recidivism Nightmare

 

Insanity hath no rest upon me.

Does my current grasp the scent of wrongness?

Lack of control surely is my demise.

Snakes slide and slither in circles with hiss.

 

Be banished ye serpents!  I see as traits.

My chemistry is outlandish, help me.

I can find no balance in my tumble.

It is misery to feel this discreet.

 

For a second the days sun brings good joy.

For a year decades pounce me thunderstorms.

The says sun comes quick and makes a half smile.

Then my own snakes, so lustful, find dreams torn.

 

‘Freedom oh freedom’, your sweetness lurks me.

A lovely strawberry; rotton, I eat.

 

 

Harold Sanford Carter III

Maine State Prison

Cell Block Shakedown (A Prison Rap)

Cell Block Shakedown

(A Prison Rap)

by

Harold Sanford Carter III

Cell block shake down here come the cuffs/here they come get down here come the cops/pepper spray tasers bean bag guns/here come the doggies trying to get drugs

(chorus)

The shackles scar bad/these handcuffs hurt/I need to see a shrink dog these meds dont work/Ive been doing it for years/Ima do five more/outlaw tatted man wicked hardcore/step into the realm/step into the pit/seethe gates of hell/this white boys a witch/play a game of spades/jail is like a game/hold on to rage we locked in a cage/what more can I say/fuck the D.A./bubba go away/that mans got aids/c.o.s babysit/that’s how they get paid/this shit is mad lame/watch me escape/a barb wire fence/and then get shot/directly to the head/jail prison lock up/where life is a bitch

(verse 1)

(chorus)

Another day holmes/another day gone/I look around my space all I see is cut stone/this place is my home/its real fucking sad/my girls on the street getting fucked smoking crack/Im counting off the days/Im looking at my case/I need to write a letter so I trade off my cake/some cats are fake/some cats are hard/cats who like pitchforks are my fucking dogs/Ill meet you at the yard/cypher like gangs/survival of the fittest to survive you will bang/Im talking bout prison/Im talking about jail/They tell you what to wear/and tell you where to shit/take away your woman/and make you jack your dick/you can go gay burrito/and take one for the team/I remember the rape/remember all the screams/It really changes the meaning of a really bad day/Dont get it twisted dog still here we pray/what I write is no lie/Im happy in the day/and at night time I cry.

(verse 2)

(chorus)

I aint slept in five days I got bags in my eyes/nothing else to do but to write these rap rhymes/get it off the mind/before I go blind/call me big crime/I think I did a lot/maybe all this music will get me to the top/better than a sentance/better than a bid/I long for the day I can sing to my kids/but now Im in the cuffs and these chains is real tight/These people got the keys so Im chill and don’t fight/make amends to myself/contemplate wrong right/this life needs correction/Im not a fucking fool/what would you do if me was you/Im sorry god I hate pigs cops fuck screws/cops hate robbers dog this is old news/Am I really bad/Am I really mean/one thing for sure dog I miss the fuckin streets

(verse 3)

(chorus)

A Quick Shout Out!!!

Voices from the Cracks would like to congratulate Maine State Prison inmate Harold Sanford Carter III for being chosen for paid publication!!  Two of the poems that were previously on Voices, “Maine State Prison a Sonnet” and “Circles of Everything” have been chosen by a literary magazine and will be published soon.  Please join me in offering Harold a round of applause for this accomplishment!

 

–Sophie