This section publishes creative contributions mostly from currently and formerly incarcerated people. It includes short-stories, poetry, creative nonfiction, art, and much more.
If you have something creative to submit to us, we would love to read it, or see it, and publish it in About Time – please write to us!
The big idea behind this painting is to display a very strong, tough Australian sportswoman. Through her athleticism she has helped to inspire a huge number of young Australian girls to take up soccer as their favourite game.
Butterflies, can be the colour of your eyes. They start life as tiny eggs, finally having wings and six legs.
An ode to our last 750-gram powdered milk, taken from our treasured weekly Buy-Up Sheet.
Facing the darkness, the pain and cold travelling through the body, the soul taking me back to when I played alone when hell exists, the place my home I spend years, months, days wearing the mask trying to pretend there is no fear or pain.
As I come back to jail, I walk through that familiar door, I promised my mum and kids, I wouldn’t break the law.
On an icy day, we’ll meet again, on a silent path, free from pain. No greetings spoken, no sparks to fly, just a quiet knowing in each other’s eye.
Why should you suffer for my pain. Knowledge in this I should try to gain. Does it feel I have left you alone? It may feel I have cut you to the bone.
The calls we hear every day, whether guilty or claiming you’re innocent, there’s a price we each must pay. “It’s a privilege not a right” you’ll hear the screws say, but the moment you’re behind those bars, your control is taken away.
A poem for the one true love of my life, I wish I could change the past, but I can only change my future.
She saw his will and was convinced, she listened to his lies and was convinced, she looked into his eyes and trusted his smiles, she was convinced.
I yearn to spend loving time with my Mother, to reunite with my sister and brother, to introduce my kin to the new man I am.
I hear the sirens wailing, I know the cops are coming, to my door, I let down my family, even my kids, friends and all.
Life is only short my son, with so many paths to take, life is an uphill struggle, with every step you make. That’s why you must treasure life, with every second of the day, because you may never know, when it’s your turn to go away.
Once upon a time, a sleepy little shrub lived a contented but impoverished life in a quiet shady corner of a garden. Although the little shrub did not complain, it was much smaller than most of its other friends, and its branches were thin and twig-like.
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Help us get About Time off the ground. All donations are tax deductible and will be vital in providing an essential resource for people in prison and their loved ones.
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