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!
Locked down for the third time this week, sixth time this past fortnight, with Bird of Prey playing on Rage, the shitty fuzzy speakers on the shitty fuzzy TV barely able to conjure up something that resembles bass.
The poem was written in the early weeks of being on remand, expressing my raw emotions while coming to terms with it all.
Here I sit inside my cell, thinking to myself, is this Hell? Cold and dark, with a terrible smell. I think it is, only time will tell.
A poem for the one true love of my life. I wish I could change the past, but I can only change my future.
I remember the day I saw you, I held your tiny form, the chilly air made you tremble, so we took you home.
The pressure of the pain inside, formed diamonds in my mind, tempting me to throw it in, to leave it all behind.
Belief in a future, they do persist, for everyone has the right to exist.
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!
Our faces are seen above uniforms of green, we parade in this prison, all shaven clean. "Another day in paradise", we sarcastically wink, "we fake it till we make it", we tell our shrink.
Outside these prison walls exists real life, going daily about their business in haste. The hustle and bustle, too busy to stop, lives synchronised, and no time to waste.
Oh how I can’t stand these nights alone, wishing that I could just go home. Never thought this is where I’d be, constantly dreaming of being free.
I’ve tried to write poetry, but I find it hard to do, I’d like to say in pretty words, just what I think of you. And what I would like to say, would be something like this: you make my heart run wild, with just one little kiss.
Beyond the bars, I sit and think about the past. Beyond the bars, I wait and watch the time pass. Beyond the bars, I barely ever see the stars. Beyond the bars, I’m alone in the dark.
You were never there to tuck me into bed. No, you were never there at night when I was scared. Mama, where were you when I needed you most. Mama tell me why all alone I had to cope.
Freedom has been likened to a bird, a plane, a song, it has been once personified as a road that’s very long. Freedom has been likened to people: from war, death, or insanity, to others it is being absolved from rules for eternity.
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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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