You wonder why

Oh, the tears that we cried
when the towers fell
Oh, the anger we felt
as they rang the bells

Did you ever stop to wonder why?
What would push a person
to became a bomb
from the ground or sky?

When do we scream freedom
or demand human rights
when it fits our interest
or helps us to sleep at night

Are we that vain?
Are we that slow?
Are we that ignorant?
do we live that low?

We sit back and watch
we say that we care
but we do nothing
we don't even stare

Lives mean nothing
lest they are our own
American interest is the cry
Human interest should be the tone

We turn our heads
when AIDS kills them all
when they are starving
we get dressed for a ball

Others in this world
see it differently
name all the dictators
that American made to be

People who are suppressed
see the red white and blue
on the sock and boot
standing on their chest

We need to watch closer
What is done in our name
because this world of ours
is playing a deadly game

Write to me:

Norman Wayne Whillote C29683
310-2-61L Po Box 9
Avenal, CA 93204

All or none

So many men within these gates
proclaim this is the end.
They never more will pass this way.
For Jesus is their friend.
They'll say that they have seen the light
and that they now believe.
But if that friend is not their lord,
their own hearts they deceive.
Even though His precious word
abounds within your head,
if he doesn't own your heart
you're still among the dead.
He can't be tricked. He knows your thoughts.
It's he that made your soul.
Don't think you can deceive him
to ascertain your goal.
If he doesn't guide your steps,
your foot is bound to slip.
And your religion is in vain.
You sail a sinking ship.

Coming back

Stripped naked
sent away
taken from those
who mean the most

Close enough
to see
feel and hear
just like a ghost

Not there when it matters
not there when it counts
missing all the moments
like tied to a post

Life passes by
as you're stuck in the past
you're no longer there
no longer in the cast

Now near the end
there's a calmness and joy
yes, fear has returned
as these last moments pass

Write to me:

Norman Wayne Whillote C29683
310-2-61L Po Box 9
Avenal, CA 93204


My angel

I remember well, when I was small.
One way God's love was shown.
He sent to me an angel, kind.
He was my very own.
When I fell down, he broke my fall.
When lost or scared, I heard him call.
Each time I said my nightly prayer, he was beside me, kneeling there.
If I had faith, he'd never leave.
Nor abandon, nor deceive.
But as I aged, I grew apart.
I slowly pushed him from my heart.
I soon forgot that he was there.
Too busy for my life to share.
My pain and failures brightly shown.
I couldn't do it on my own.
My life dragged on till I got saved.
His Holy Ghost, God gracious gave.
My heart, that day, filled with rejoice as I listened to His guiding voice.
He reminds me of a dear old friend.
This time I'll listen till the end.

A call to prayer

I would like to shed some light on a problem
we have here at Avenal State Prison.
I know that weare inmates, and are all guilty of some
type pf crimebut our families are not guitly of anything
other than lovingus. Unfortunately at visiting they are
still treatedharshly, and sometimes forced to wait for
hours and oftenhumiliated and made to feel wrong.
No matter what, ourfamilies should not be mistreated.
Maybe this is happeningbecause of the overcrowding
here at Avenal State Prison,I really dont know for sure.
So please fain me in prayerso that this type of treatment
will stop.
May God bless your life.

Write to me:

Daniel Larson - F40838
310-1-9L Po Box 9
Avenal, CA 93204



Write to:

Richard Arcinega - B82619
Building 310
Po Box 9
Avenal, CA 93204

On turning fifty

How the time flies. Seems like one minute you're graduating high school, the next minute you're married with kods. The excitment of landing a job with a good company becames a daily grind, and after twenty years of work, family, fun, lows, highs, you turn fifty. Age fifty to many is the last great adventure, to others a the start of that final slippery slope, to others a milestone made irrilevant by ominous times ahead; that best describes me.
Turning fifty was kind of dull for me. Yes, the office folks surprised me by decorating/trashing my cubical.There were yummy pasteries and cards lamenting my inpending need for Viagra. All great stuff, but over shadowed by the knowledge that my life as I knew it would soon end.In two months time I would be in the custody of the California Department of Correction (CDC).
Think about the last time you passed by a prison. You see the razor wire, the guard towers, the prisoners in blue or orange. You get this sick feeling like you're just driven past a terrible traffic accident. What comes to mind is, "god forbid I ever wind up there". Well I was going; oh what a feeling.
How does a fifty years old, once law abiding, citizen, close out his life? It's a desperate, relentless, but futile effort to keep his life from breaking apart. Family, friends, work are all lost, save for a few hangers on.
It's like pulling a plant out of the ground. The roots that tie him to family and community rip, snap, and tear until he is pulled loose of society. The experience was extremely traumatic, and for those left behind have become a constant burden on my heart.
In CDC I would start a process where by I would transition from a solid citizen and tax-payer to a third class subject and a tax-burden. It starts by being demeaned and stripped of dignity.Having always respected authority, and having that respect reciprocated, I was taken aback by the callous and sometimes sadistic treatment by correctional officiers.
I was told on no uncertain terms that I was "property of the CDC". I soon found out that as property I did not matter, and it didn't matter if this property was damaged.
The CDC is huge. They have lots of property like myself jammed into cell blocks as tight us can be. I turned fifty three years ago; I was a family man, with a good career, a golfer, a friend, and a citizen.
I'm now CDC property #V4xxx6.

For Broonzy write to:

Carlo Parlanti - F25457
310-1-12U PO BOX 9
Avenal, CA 93204


To Carlo & Katia

Thanks for everything

Norman Wayne Willhoite C29683
310-2-61L Po Box 9
Avenal, CA 93204


Pregnant woman

Write to me:

Richard Arcinega - B82619
Building 310
Po Box 9
Avenal, CA 93204

I'll never be normal

I'll never be normal
In a picket fence
Kinda way

Survived the darkness
Seen the ugly
Felt the monster's breath

Caged in a mind
From traumas past
Fighting to be free

Afraid to let go
Scared to attack
Pleasure creates shame

I'll never be normal
But that's okay
It doesn't define me

Write to me:

Norman Wayne Whillote C29683
310-2-61L Po Box 9
Avenal, CA 93204

Image of a man

Write to me:

Richard Arcinega - B82619
Building 310
Po Box 9
Avenal, CA 93204


Mondatory safetybelt, helmet laws

Accountability is the corner stone of a nation's moral fiber. Every time it is shown, where a seat belt or helmet is the cause of death or injury, in any way, the state should be held responsible for the action, it imposed upon its citizens. How can a nation hold its people accountable if it shall not answer up for its own transgressions? Free will should not be placed under the authority of anyone, except for the person in possession of it. There should be no law protecting the citizens from themselves. Who shall be responsible when these laws do not work? A people cannot be held accountible for something that is no longer within their power. The great fathers established a nation opposed to tyrannical rule, and placed this nation into the hands of the most trusted, those of the governed. We, the people need to exercise our control with a wholesome discretion, and educate ourselves that we may make informed decisions. It is the responsability of those we place into power to inform us in a truthful, factual manner, not to control us with fear, or treat us as though we cannot govern ourselves because we can, and did by placing them in office. Tyranny starts with rules protecting us from ourselves.
We are free people, not drones to a system.

Write to me:

Norman Wayne Whillote C29683
310-2-61L Po Box 9
Avenal, CA 93204

Not even my worst enemies

The subtitle of this blog already announces that our main intention has always been to carry to the other side of the barbed-wire the voices of Avenal prison, not just their complaints.
Here inside there are so many stories, talents or even simply handicrafts that finding a space for them is already a monumental task. But this doesn’t mean that we can’t sometimes find a story so surprisingly unfair as to compel us to forego the subtitles …
In short, I resisted the temptation to “complain”, to tell my nightmare, but I will make an exception for Daniel!
Daniel is one of the latest to join the group of collaborators to this blog and you probably have already read some of his “calls to prayer” born inside a heart that, believe me, has room for Christian feelings. While chatting with him about his medical mishaps, I learned about one episode that to define as inhuman would be euphemistic. In the beginning, the story sounded so outlandish as to even undermine my trust in Daniel’s sincerity.
It took copies of his diagnosis and hospital discharge for me to believe in the truthfulness of this nightmarish claim and as a result I have decided to publish these documents to guarantee you the same opportunity for verification.
Daniel’s jaw had been fractured in three places in an “accident”. It took 18 days before somebody decided to take him to a hospital where he could undergo the appropriate surgical procedures. Unfortunately, at this point, his jaw had to be broken again before being wired to heal properly.
What you will not read in the hospital’s documents is the account of those 18 days: the useless daily visits to the infirmary to ask for painkillers; the hunger endured in silence; the desperation in facing so much needless pain.
Daniel could surely describe in greater detail the horror of those three weeks. What I can tell you instead is that these types of episodes are far from rare at Avenal State prison.
If you don’t believe me, all you have to do is search the local or state newspapers and you’ll find all the evidence you need about the recurring episodes of bad medical care that are distinguishing characteristics of this prison.
In a couple of trimesters Daniel will be able to leave this desert and, together with the other “guests” of Avenal, I will ask him to keep in mind his mishap and to fight with renewed strength to obtain clarity and justice, not only to receive some material compensation for the pain endured during those days or to be able to afford the therapies necessary to try and recover some feeling in that portion of his face permanently anaesthetized by the surgery, but above all to help those who will keep living daily in poor health. Care: all of us!
I secretly hope that this testimony of such guilty disinterest will cause some indignation inside your hearts and, if that ‘s true, I plead with you to leave a comment to this posting if for no other reason than to help us convince Daniel to fight a battle that I am not really sure is only “his”.
I would also like to humbly ask you to help him with addresses, contacts or resources that could be helpful to file a lawsuit and above all, to spread the knowledge of this story; for this I will close these few lines with Daniel’s address instead of mine.
I hope that in some future nobody, not even my worst enemies, not even the people who have destroyed my life locking me up inside this hell, will have to face this type of torture …

Carlo Parlanti

Write with comments and resources to:

Daniel Larson F40838
Avenal , CA 93204 USA



Richard Pulido V87716
310-1-5M Po Box 9
Avenal, Ca 93204


Los Angeles Lakers

They are a very powerful basket ball team with a momemtum the size of a Tzunami.

I was inspired to create sports art by the massive following of sports fans who truly appreciate our national past times.
The sports industry is a wonderful sports zoo with 50 thousand tamed human at a single event who can transform into wild animals raging with joy with a touchdown or a basket scored.

Write to me:

Jonathan Marino J84807
310-2-27L Po Box 9
Avenal, CA 93204

If I only knew

If I knew all the answers
what would I say
probably couldn't stop smiling
for it would be a better day.
The answers we don't have
but know that they are there
with proper thoughts and actions
they shall go
from there to here.

Write to me:

Norman Wayne Whillote C29683
310-2-61L Po Box 9
Avenal, CA 93204

But, how do we punish them?

"Punish [pun'ish], V.T. 1. To subject to pain, loss, etc. As a penalty for some offense or fault. 2. To inflict such a penalty for (an offense or fault). 3. To treat harshly."
Oh, that statement carries so much fear
why do we need to punish?
Do we, as human beings, really believe
that punishment works?

Some where along the line
we lost track of the goal
our society becomes better
through education, not torture.

Each of us wants to be, the best we can be.
Each of us has been given a map
each of us want to do what's right.
Each of us starts off stuck in a trap.

I did something wrong
I was slapped on the ass
I did something wrong
there goes my favourite toy
I did something wrong
I'm sent home from school
you get the picture,
but do you know,
what was learned?

Punishment teaches pain and loss
it teaches to treat harshly
when I make the rules.
I shall,
teach people the rules.
When I go some where,
I will,
learn their rules,
and I will not feel pain.

Correct my behavior
don't beat me,
into submission
punishment only works
while it's happening
only then,
to a a certain degree.

It teaches me nothing,
but the price to pay.
my behavior shall be my own
no matter what you say
I learned that to take a cookie
will get me slapped on the hand
so, if the cookie is good
it's worth the punishment.

Then comes a time when you punish
just to punish
when it becomes easier to punish
than to correct
you do not understand
what is being done.
By now, I decide how much paint
I will accept
empowered by my rage
that I hold deep inside.

I forgot what I did
to be punished like this
Oh, I changed long ago
but, the punishment still continues
the dust has collected
the pain has pealed
this corner hasn't changed
since I was a child.

No longer wild
no longer lost
but still being punished
for the trouble I have caused
I did have it coming
I wasn't very good.
But how do we forgive them?

Write to me:

Norman Wayne Whillote C29683
310-2-61L Po Box 9
Avenal, CA 93204

My wish for humanity

"Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men". Luke 2:14.
This to me is one of the most, if not the most glorious salutations ever heard by mankind.
"An entire multitude of the heavenly host praising God" and at the same time letting all of mankind know that they themselves were the object of His good will.
There are so many implications in this wonderful salutation: it seems to be some type of summation of all his promises to mankind.
There are so many of these scriptures that we just read right through, so I just thought I would remind you today that you are the very object of God's good will.
May God bless you and keep you in His good will this year.

Write to me:

Daniel Larson - F40838
310-1-9L Po Box 9
Avenal, CA 93204

Oakland Raiders

I dedicate this Oakland Raiders drawing to the millions of "Black Hole Soldiers" who truly know loyalty!

I was inspired to create sports art by the massive following of sports fans who truly appreciate our national past times.
The sports industry is a wonderful sports zoo with 50 thousand tamed human at a single event who can transform into wild animals raging with joy with a touchdown or a basket scored.

Write to me:

Jonathan Marino J84807
310-2-27L Po Box 9
Avenal, CA 93204


The real Christmas plot

Until not long ago I have been convinced that my father was the one of the angriest persons in the world with clergy. Toward the end of his education, in an extreme attempt to help him, my grandmother Clara forced him to endure a couple of years of tough Salesian discipline inside the Maria Luigia boarding school of the king, if I am not mistaking, somewhere near San Lazzaro di Savena.
Now I discover that there is somebody angrier than him with God's representatives on earth and that, according to him, did not really exist: Jesus.
In 2002 a court in Viterbo, Italy, after examining the undeniable evidences of Jesus’ non-existence that the plaintiff published in a book, dismissed the case although it was forced to admit that there is not enough evidence to state that the Messiah did in fact exist. Now, after five years, the entire story ended up in front of the Human Rights court in Strasburg that will have to decide if the fundamental dogma of Christianity it's all but a sophisticated story manufactured by clergy. After going into the argument in depth, I discovered that all the evidence of the non-existence of Jesus collected by the plaintiff was collected in a book that he published on his own; it looks like no publisher wanted to shoulder the responsibility to print this type of material; at this point I started having serious doubts about his motives.
Isn't it obvious how this person is looking for free publicity, or better cheap publicity, for his publication?
I am sure that Dan Brown, who has dominated the publishing scene of the recent past with his controversial stunts, is right now eating his own hands for not being the author of such a smart book and related publicity stunt. Thinking along these lines, I still reached the conclusion that it is in the right of everybody to report an injustice when they see it.
I am, however, still perplexed when I hear somebody talking about the unequivocal after the dust of 2000 years has settled in. I am not even convinced that it is possible to undeniably prove any of the other historical facts that carry such a date. Maybe I should drill down into the topic a little bit more and purchase the book that collects this unequivocal evidence.
And here it goes: the publicity stunt has been successful, at least with me. But then I have another doubt, a juridical more than an historical or theological one: to abuse somebody's belief one needs to know the “truth” unless one is a victim of the same illusion, assuming of course it is an illusion.Nobody can accuse me of professing the existence of someone if I am honestly convinced of it.

Even assuming that the evidence collected can really prove something this fact would simply transform the clergy into victims, like the rest of us, of a huge plot planned thousands of years ago and not for sure into ill-intended charmer of the masses.
I think that I will not purchase the book but I will follow closely the rest of this story.
I am really interested in discovering how to report something similar to the Human Rights court in Strasburg. In the near future, I want to expose to the public the real Christmas plot and I want to sue my parents for having taken advantage of my gullibility and for having professed the existence of Santa Claus.
I am already collecting evidence of a plot that has international ramifications under aliases like "Babbo Natale", into a book that I will publish soon.
My parents are for sure more guilty than the poor priest from Viterbo since they have always known that Santa Claus does not exist.

Write to me:

Carlo Parlanti - F25457
350-2-58X PO BOX 9
Avenal, CA 93204


San Francisco 49ers

They have a massive following of true fans globally and detain 5 super bowl victories.

I was inspired to create sports art by the massive following of sports fans
who truly appreciate our national past times.
The sports industry is a wonderful sports zoo with 50 thousand tamed
human at a single event who can transform into wild animals raging with
joy with a touchdown or a basket scored.

Write to me:
Jonathan Marino J84807
310-2-27L Po Box 9
Avenal, CA 93204


In harm's way

Thoughts on "Harm Reduction" as one strategy in recovery for the addicted:

In Camus' "Myth of Sisyphus", the gods had condemned Sisyphus to ceaselessly rolling a rock to the top of the mountain, whence the stone would fall back on its own weight. They had thought with some reason that there is no more dreadful punishment than futile and hopeless labor. Sisyphus became the futile laborer of the underworld. The absurd hero. More so is the recovering person who adopts a strategy of "Harm Reduction", (HR), in the often uphill road to recovery.He is doomed much like Sisyphus to repeat the hopeles process into relapse.Indulging fancifully in a strategy of HR is playing a too-often deadly game of acquiscence, of compliance, giving in to the belief that the recovering person is less than at his best... a core problem in an addicts already addled mind.
Overcoming addictions, whether drug, alcohol, gambling, or overeating always requires accepting and living in a greater truthfulness. At the heart of every addiction is an anesthetized old hurt, seeking to be released. Some chemical or self-destructive behavior reinforced the lie and made it more difficult to correct. Accepting the painful truth, rather than running from it, is the begining of sobriety. Nothing less succeeds.
The truth has the power to heal, to protect, and to guide. Living in the truth is living free and at one' s best. The simple fact is that using even "just a little" dope like smoking a joint (for the recovering alcoholic or heroin addict), playing slots insteand of a full-fledged poker game that is so popular today (for the problem gambler), creates neurological short-circuits that devolve into mental, physical, and spiritual distortions. It is in direct opposition to the clear-eyed reality check that recovery requires.
Recovery's enemy is tension. Using "just a little", or substituting a seemingly less harmful chemical or behavior, blocks clarity and increases tension. Familiar goals are snatched away, distorted or lost. Undesirable physical sensation begin to stir. Mentally, a biochemical change is taking place awakening hard-to-resist cravings, pangs, and longings. Spiritually, call it the treacherous soul, a disconnect is taking place. A calamity is being born. A loss of meaning occurs creating again a condition of tension that the addict (sex, alcohol, food, drug, etc.) sought to relieve from the onset.
To any person with long-term recovery, to any effective therapist or 12-step sponsor, such thoughts evoke a feeling of dread for good reason. This "disease of addiction" (aptly considered by the American Medical Association in 1976), a condition to be treated, often results in death. I am one such unfortunate witness many times over. My favorite tennis partner who was a brilliant law student and pianist, a successful businessman, and most recently two distant family members (last month), are among the non-living now, as examples. I dare say anyone close to these issues have known addictions dire consequences. It is serious enough not to be meddled with by half-stepping the recovery process. HR is just that.
The whole process of recovery is beyond the scope of this essay but I would be remiss if I didn't include some discussion of the three components to be addressed for the recovering person. A "whole" human being, perhaps call it the "self-actualized" or "self-realized" person is the goal of recovery. Comprising this troika of the complete human being is the physical self (body), the mental self (mind), and the spiritual self (soul). HR interferes with the integration of these three components. Those of us in recovery or treating addictions have come to understand at the deepest level, that the obvious focus on healing initially involves the well-being of the body and the mind. However, a less measurable, a harder-to-grasp principle is one of the roles of spiritual healing in recovery. Its vagaries are less scientific, less definable and measurable, therefore, less advocated by scientific types. Make no mistake; addiction is a spiritual malady yet a spiritual opportunuty to heal. HR is contraindicated as, using even a little, or participating in old destructive behaviors in small doses, interferes with the natural healing mechanism. Spiritual healing, this healing aspect of our selves, takes the most time, requires the most work, and is the most frustating to grasp. It also, as a reward, results in the greatest relief the long-suffering addict can know.
Within the oft-baffling realm of spirituality there are secrets of energy, creativity, the rhythm of existence and their compelling interconnection that awakens an inner voice bringing a magic to traditional wellness approaches. It requires sobriety for these connections to take root for the long term.
Harm reduction may appear as a short-term, harmless relief to the stress of life, but it is a dangerous precedent never to be offered as an option in recovery. My experience tells me as I sit in a prison cell that it would be safer to snatch a salmon from the jaws of a grizzly bear. Give the matter a kiss goodnight.

Write to me:

Michael Geffner K91323
CA 93204 USA