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Giants of the Struggle

8/3/2015

by Shawn Ali

22 .. 23 ... 24 ....25. Well I see you snuck up on me again. Excuse my condition, I'm a sweaty mess right now. I didn't know you were coming, so at least give me a second to become more presentable by slipping on a pair of gym shorts over these soaked boxers. There that's better. Is it a bad time? yes and no, but its ultimately up to you if you don't mind waiting on me to finish working out. That's right, you caught me while my cell is in gymnasium mode. I figured, hell if I'm going to sweat in this hot box anyway, might as well be doing something productive while I sweat. Since my parole set off, I've upped my push ups from a range of 500-800 to 800-1,000 ー and today, I'm feeling pretty damn good, so I'm aiming for 1,000. I'm at 950, so the wait shouldn't be that long.

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Creative Reflections

8/2/2015

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by Shawn Ali

Zzzz....zzzz....zzzz...

As you step into my tiny cell, you are a little disappointed to find my unconscious body napping peacefully on my bunk in the late afternoon. You're tempted to wake me up for the thought-provoking, interactive blog - conversations you've come to enjoy since you became my virtual celly, but you decide instead to take a patient seat on the foot end of my bunk, hoping I might stir awake at any moment. As you wait, you can't help but wonder what my fertile mind is dreaming, the complex travel path of my imaginative thoughts, as they creatively navigate through a colorful realistic maze of wild images and storylines that morph into contradictory scenes that wouldn't co-exist in the real world. Your curious eyes roam my neat cell, transfixing on the pictures of the people who believe in me and support me, the FREE SHAWNALI.COM printouts that are strategically scattered about. You notice several motivational objects. You run your hand over my two college degrees that are propped up at the end of my bunk. Your eyes shift to the big-lettered computer generated phrase of the day "Visualize The Inevitable." Then you read the quote of the day hanging on my wall "We are all faced with a series of great opportunities brilliantly disguised as impossible situations." You're about to leave, when you see it, there on my chest; a small green hardback journal that is open and being cuddled protectively by one arm. Without waking me, you reach for the forbidden fruit slowly slipping it from my loose grip.

...........They are invading my personal space; I can feel them reaching into my arms, Why are they taking my treasure from me? Its mine, I worked so hard for it, wait - come back! Why cant I stop them? Clank-clank, oh that's why the metal from the handcuffs bite into my wrists and I'm suspended in a spiderweb of chains. A doll-faced black spider with wild long black hair is crawling towards me, jangling brass keys on each of her eight legs. The sweet alluring voice coming from her pouty lips reverberates loudly as if it's being transmitted from an intercom and speaking through me in a seductive tone that irresistible arouses me with each hypnotic word. As she stares ravenously below my waist, her almond shaped eyes light up with fiery desire. She proposes a deal; she agrees to give me my freedom in exchange for an orgasm and my seed. I accept on the condition that i get to kiss her first. Our lips lock in wet ecstasy until I'm the only one moving. My romantic kiss of death paralyses her into a motionless state. I find the right key - click. Unlock the cuffs, I flap my wings, flying out of a broken window, chasing my treasure.....

While I continue to sleep and dream, you reluctantly open my green book to the page I had marked, telling yourself that if you discover something too personal, you will immediately put it back. You see a title at the top of the page, I WANT TO BE FREE, and underneath it, these poetic words follow:

There are dark days
when I don't have hope
I want to cut my sheet
and make a death rope
when I want to feel
a piece of fleeting freedom
I put ketchup on chips
and drink a Classic Coke
at night, when I hear
my faucet dripping
my fears speak
my eyes leak
streams of tears
down my cheeks
as I think . . .
of my wrongful conviction case
I pace, my cell
nowhere to go in my race
but last place
have I given up?
HELL NO - NEVER!
keep running in my cage
fueled by my inner rage
could bitch, moan, complain
but I pray, pray, and pray
Visualizing the Inevitable
see myself on the concert stage
my inner man is resilient
and getting stronger everyday
read an inspiring quote
that showed me the way
"two places where a man
can become anything he wants in life
a university and a prison"

thanks Malcom X
discovered some priceless treasures
inside of me
that were buried and hidden
I did what doubters
said was forbidden
earned, not one ー
but two college degrees
with a GPA of 3.963
turned my tiny cell into a . . .
library, studio, and laboratory
my incarceration
is a renaissance journey.
though my body is a slave
my mind is FREE
my imagination and creativity
is evolving constantly
like a butterfly
my mind takes flight
I read Think and Grow Rich
by Napoleon Hill
every morning
every night
even at my lowest
I find the will within
to believe and fight
no matter how dark
my prison stay gets
at the end of the tunnel
I can now see the light
and with parole close
it's getting bright
in my sight
beyond these walls and fences
are an incredible future and life

(You turn the pages searching for something else intriguing to read. Each page has a single world heading with several paragraphs under each word...... Abstract (turn page) ... Accomplishment ... America ... Abortion ... Attitude (you scan a few lines) ... Bald Eagle, Battlefield, Beast) you read the first line, "Deep in the chambers of our inner person, our spirits flicker like a white flame sustaining life in the fragile frame of our bodies, but lurking in the secret shadows of every person....." (turn page)....Beautiful.... (you stop here and read):

The first light of dawn eclipsing the darkness; the sun peeking new day rays over the jagged edge of the glimmering horizon, snow-capped mountains melting... dripping... draining.... into meandering fresh-churning creeks and streams that cut through flourishing forests. A busy bee buzzing in a field of fresh flowers, veins of white lightning flashing erratically across a black sky. Raindrops falling.

A baby's first word "mama," spoken, or the first awkward step taken in life. Crooked kindergarten letters drawn in crayons the mind's ability to learn manifested. A son or daughter imitating their parent's morals, mannerisms and maturity. The sight of a careless boy becoming a responsible, respectful man, a clumsy, excited girl becoming a ravishing refined woman. The wink and excited timeless facial expression right before the high school graduation hats are tossed collectively in the air. An I-did-it smile on the face after all the challenges and obstacles. Tears falling.

Establishing a life vision, seeking to fulfill the vision, through following the plans of obtaining a degree and pursuing a successful career, meeting the love of our lives, flower girls, vows, rings and an unforgettable kiss to seal the ultimate covenant - marriage. A husband and wife making pure love with pure motives. The birth of a newborn. The rusty colors of autumn. A leaf falling.

A simple walk in a park, inhaling fresh air. A bubble bath, crackling wood blazing in a fireplace. Lovers holding hands. Icicles hanging from the edges of creation. Unique snowflakes dotting the ground. A gentleman escorting an elderly lady across the street. Grandparents blessing their grandchildren profusely with hugs, rewards and lessons of life.The amber sky fading yellow, orange, pink, red, purple into twilight blue. Ah yes life is beautiful, mortality falling into eternity.

......the more I fly, the bigger and stronger my wings seem to get. There they are, my golden sphere containing my goals, dreams radiate brightly in the hands of the dark shadowy thieves who stole my treasure. The closer I get, the brighter my treasure shines, we're connected. It's mine. Magnetically I feel my treasure gravitating towards me on its own until it returns into my arms. As soon as I become one with my treasure, I find myself confined to the spider web of chains. Damn, I cannot shake this crazy bitch. There she is, the wild flowing hair, seductive intercom voice, lusty eyes, the arousal is overwhelming. She's got me. The pleasure, the euphoria, the pain, the fatal sting of ... (my eyes flick open) ...

Hey I caught you my virtual celly, why were you trying to slip my creative journal from my grasp? Oh, so you were putting it back. That means you read something. No need to apologize or to feel bad, what’s done is done. Honestly I don't mind. There's nothing top-secret inside, just my random creative reflections. In prison, if i get caught slipping and you catch me with my guard down then that's on me (to a degree, it depends on what it is), so I hope you enjoyed some of my creative poetic writings that I've only shared with a few souls. Next time we'll talk about HARD WORK - LEGALIZED PRISON SLAVERY.

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