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!
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.
I remember the day I saw you, I held your tiny form. The chilly air made you tremble, so, we took you home. You grew up so quickly, to our great surprise, and tore around the unit, right before our eyes.
Our ego asked what is our purpose. We search for enlightenment, it’s in us all. Happiness is a choice so make it yours. Forgiveness of others will lead you to peace.
Sitting in this cage, barbed wire all around. Been transported here, but first my wrists are bound. Heavy metal locked, no chance of breaking free.
The brooding castle had overlooked our town since time immemorial. Its dark parapets loomed over us, perched high on the behemoth mountain so familiar to me. I had lived in its shadow my whole life.
Let go, let go of your enemies. Let go, let go of your hate. Let go and forgive.
Doing time together, under lock and key, but helping others can set your mind free. The past is gone, the future’s not arrived, focus on now, be glad to be alive.
I found this poem titled Until and I wrote a poem on my reflection to it.
Here's just a few of my crochet art projects – this is what you can achieve if you learn how to crochet!
Tears on my pillow, pain in my heart. The day they put me in prison, my whole world fell apart.
Lights on, doors slam, go running to the phone. Dial the number hit the hash, and wonder if they're home. Spend the first minute saying hello, fight to say a word. Tell them that you love them and hope that you are heard.
It's about time, I outline, the walls we're within. No doubts fly, no routes fine, the way I'm living.
There is a kind of peace that comes with routine. A familiarity that numbs you to the monotony of everyday life.
To me it means hard work and rough times, you have to work for what you want and there will always be barriers and things/people trying to bring you down.
Most of the day in school I would spend in art as my teacher Mrs Crawford was the only one that seemed to understand me and get my ADHD. She made me feel equal.
Alone in a world of darkness and pain. The world there outside, I don't see the rain. Is the sun shining brightly? I really don't know. There's no place to turn and nowhere to go.
Icy fingers clawed the nape of the old man’s neck as swirling wind whipped up dust and debris into Jack’s tired weathered face.
I see the pain in your lost eyes, and see, all your life ends in cries.
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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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