A poem by antifascist anarchist prisoner, Thomas Blak (uk)

Posted on November 11, 2011


A poem by antifascist anarchist prisoner, Thomas Blak


Prison life


Distance makes the heart grow fonder

The love for the one, grows ever stronger

In the time ahead

My sentence seems longer

I’m growing older

But with each day, become younger

Filled with fear, anger and hope

Rehabilitation in prison is a joke

Tricks of the trade


In here in humanity’s shade

The Politicians sway on broken promises, while defending their seat

Swearing to ideas of the old prison beats

In here, I’m out of sight, out of rights, minds and needs

Locked in time, the judges deed

With a previous, oh dear oh dear

Most be a foreigner, pauper or a queer.

Justice is a joke

Time to shift a gear

Reach for the sky

Or the top of the bench

*ever with a barrister, gonna use a wrench.

Can’t rid my head of that courtroom stench

Prison wings are grimey

Cells even worse

Letters read and opened

My thoughts, a public curse

Fill in an App, if you wanna see a nurse

Fill in an App, to try and break the curse

For better or for worse

Free or in a hearse

So thank you Mr. Justice

I hope you’ll sleep tight

The next 18 months

Every day and every night

In your own bed, cover and sheets

I’ll send you a thought

Through my gritted teeth

From an anarchist dissident in HMP

With two fingers up, to your wig and your bench

With every muscle tense and my fist clenched

My patience’s drenched Wishing for you, lying in a trench

Octomber 2011

 Thomas Blak
HMP Onley
CV23 8AP