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.
Somebody’s Daughter Theatre Company (SDTC) began running art workshops with women at Fairlea Women’s Prison over forty years ago.
One cold and windy night, I laid upon my gaol bed, and as I closed my eyes, I heard a voice that said: “Please don’t be afraid, I wish to speak with you, maybe you will listen, to my words that are true.”
No one can see the shame and guilt, trapped behind these eyes. As I sit here in a prison cell, all due to a pack of lies.
Clean me of this damaged life and make it right. And I swear I will do whatever it takes to be a better man. I swear it.
My partner and I are both currently locked up down here in Tasmania. Your newspaper has been a huge hit in both the women's and the men's prisons, so I thought I'd send you something from both of us.
When in jail some don’t want to go home, it’s true. Hard to believe, so I will find out more for you. Are the dudes for real, or a screw loose in the head. They would rather stay in jail, than going home instead.
The voice is beautiful; my lungs fill with a relieved gasp. I expected a prison sentence. A feeling of chest tightening, breath weak, metal and voices. A life of strip searches and beatings.
The woman of my dreams; she isn’t there. The woman of my dreams; she doesn’t care. The woman of my dreams; she isn’t real. The woman of my dreams knows not how I feel.
Behind cement walls and razor wire, I can see a tall tree – swaying in the breeze it reminds me, the day I’ll be free. Then in come the birds from out of that tree, I watch these birds with envy and I wish it was me.
A wee bit of heaven, drifted down from above. A handful of happiness, a heart full of love. The mystery of life, so sacred and sweet, the giver of joy, so deep and complete. Priceless and precious, so loveable, too – the world’s sweetest miracle, baby doll, is you!
Help keep the momentum going. All donations are tax deductible and will be vital in providing an essential resource for people in prison and their loved ones.
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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