Category: The Beat Without

by Miguel Quezada As a kid, I failed in many little things. Basketball, because I had no coordination. Or when I tried to ride my bicycle over a motorcycle ramp and fell and broke my wrist. Or when in the seventh grade I asked Destiny to be my girlfriend, but she said, “Nooooo!” When I was young, I didn’t believe I was my failures. All they amounted to were failures. They didn’t get in my way. I kept falling, but picking myself up and trying and trying and trying. As I grew up, I seemed to fail a lot more. It

by Dortell Williams “If you want anything done, you’ve got to do it yourself,” goes the refrain. That includes that ever elusive thing they call rehabilitation: self-help and personal development The truth is that within the confines of our misnomer, The California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation, rehabilitation can be a difficult thing to tackle. Lack of class space, lack of vocations and lack of structure for personal growth. I recall asking a mental health specialist a few years back what “rehabilitation” is: What am I chasing here? Were my exact words. His response? He laughed, heartily. He told me: “There

by Fausto Minor Since my incarceration my life has changed dramatically.  The change came when I realized that I can do something constructive with my time in prison.  This realization came to me while I was serving a twenty-six month SHU term.  That is when I decided that I no longer wanted to be a prisoner of my own vice, so I started to study all sorts of subjects that would stimulate my mind.  I began to see the positive aspects of being in prison.  Once I realized that prison can be a positive experience for me, is when I knew

by Clarence Reese My life has known sunshine, has known rain. A life of little joy linked to an abundance of pain, Washed in a bird bath of tears I have caused to be shed, Who blew out the spark leaving no light up ahead? Roaming, cold, sweaty, walls of ink dripping tattoos and raw scars, Why do memories fade into dreams lost upon waking up behind bars? Near the shadow whose figure leans tilt, it has slip Sways handicap, without a mast, my life, a handicap ship Drifting in a sea of waves far from home, far from port,

by Cody Ladd My name is Cody Ladd, and I’m an inmate incarcerated in a California State Prison. Born and raised in Humboldt County. A fellow friend/inmate told me about The Beat Within.” I’ve read and highly enjoyed it, and would love to be a subscriber, please. I love to read, writer and draw, so I am most interested and can truly relate and connect to The Beat Within. Please do let me explain: I love how the Beat supports the youth, and those who are incarcerated, locked away in jail or any other facility, state- or nationwide. I can

by Shawn D. I’ve moved all around to different places, I’ve even slept in a few parking spaces, Never enough money.  I’m always poor, The music I listen to talks blood and gore, Insane Clown Posse is what I hear Suicide (hotline) is the way I’m ready to steer, Losing my mom is what I fear, I was born in Kansas but I’m Mesa raised, My life goes many different ways, I sometimes think of it as a never ending maze, Had a few “friends” that dropped dimes, Wound up in court, then on probation, I was twelve when I first

by Joel J. Baul May today’s presence find all of you well in spirit and health. The world outside this tomb is beating like that of a heart, yet as we know it’s falling apart!  It saddens me to know that (Jim Crow and McCarthy’s) are no longer dormant?  I can only hope with all that is manifesting itself, there is a unification of enlightenment to ensure we haven’t lost our way and that we acknowledge we do need each other more so in these times than we know: Life is fragile, so too is our reproach. The four poems enclosed

by Michael D. Johnson My name is Michael Dwayne Johnson and I am a thirty-six year old man incarcerated in the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitations. My convictions are first degree murder and second degree robbery and my crime is gang-related. I’ve been in prison since I was sixteen years old and I have served a total of twenty years and five months.  That’s approximately seven thousand four hundred fifty days of hell and a whole lot of thinking, crying and begging God for mercy. However, this whole experience has taught me a few things; 1) The gang lifestyle

By Miguel Quezada Seventeen years ago, at the age of sixteen, I sat in a juvenile hall holding cell waiting to be booked in on first-degree murder charges, three attempted murders, a gun charge and gang enhancement. In writing this, I had to think about how I ended up in that holding cell.  What advice could I give that would help you avoid some of the mistakes I made? How could I put into words the destruction I caused in so little time to myself and so many other people in a way that could be lesson? I asked myself, what