In this episode, host, Aaron Tyler Hand sits down for a conversation with poet Roger Jones in his office on the campus of Texas State University. They talk about short poems, long poems, and everything in between, all while reading and discussing poetry written by incarcerated individuals.
Roger Jones
What can you say in as little space/room as you can?
Poems:
My Morning
5am I hear a clicking sound, tray slot open and I look around
Celly asleep and not hearing a sound
In my mind I cuss at the food on my tray
The same ol’ shit day after day
This is how I begin doing my life
Untitled
The thud of an
Instrumental wake
A bob of my head
And a thought of music
To create
No other way
but to fill my day
With passion
Let the lyrics
Flow out of me
When I exhale
The air of compassion
Grass smelling of tumbleweed
After a hefty glass of
Some humble mead
And shotguns sound off
To show
That the world’s
Still not at ease
Another day in the neighborhood
In my world,
It's full of peace
Another day to create is
Another day to tell
Of me
Time, Love, & Dedication
All things
I neglected to offer
Throwing to you
Stacks of money
And advice of
“Hey, meet me at the altar”
A late arrival
And no apology
From me
You gained ptsd
But yet
Your love
Never
Faltered from me
You waited up
Day and night
I’d come in alive
When I make enough to
Leave the streets
You left with me a gift
Saying, do you remember,
“You came in covered
In blood, repeating,
It wasn’t me”
For this I thank you
For trying to
Take me away
From the stress
Part Half
“She's gone” he said “and so are you”
Driving along, I grit my teeth,
I hate him
Reaching over, he turns the radio on
Dancing, singing,
He looks at me to join.
I do.
I hate him.
Takes my phone and a dollar to roll
Puts it up my nose.
Don't bother looking
Already know,
Feel better
Feel worse
I hate him.
He buys every pack of cigarettes
Every plastic bag
Every hotel kiss
Cheers when I’m up
Jeers when I’m down
My wallet is never safe in his hands
It always is
I hate him
We pull up to a church to confess my sins
His arms folded
Face cross
“Don't go in” he warns “you’re a hypocrite!”
He’s always right
He never is
I hate him
Part Whole
Out the car, my
Friend looks angrily
Stare at him, and
He stares back at me
Afraid to leave
Always by my side
Feel so exposed
With nowhere to hide
Walk up the steps
Cracking ‘neath my feet
Imagining hell,
Its flames. Its heat.
Through the door, a long way to the altar.
It’s my road this time, I must not falter
Kneeling at the cross. Clothes already wet.
“You’ve nothing to fear, my son, so don’t fret!”
His hand on my shoulder, warm to the touch.
My face on the ground. His grace is too much.
Remember my friend,
Us always a pair
My new life is one
We can never share
Walk back to the car
Now see him nowhere
Sit inside and smile
He was never there
Writing Prompts:
Roger Jones uses his poem Juke Box to give praise to an ordinary day in his life. He writes about the sounds of change falling into the jukebox, the songs coming through the speakers, and the taste of his breakfast. To him, just because there is nothing special about that day, doesn’t mean that it isn’t worth praising. Write a poem that shows what an ordinary day is like in your life. Try to include the sounds you hear, smells you smell, and things that you taste. This will help place the ready right into your shoes
In Poison, Roger Jones uses the image of a doctor giving someone medicine as a way to talk about the traumas of his past sneaking up on him. He talks about the “unmistakable dark markings of his own dark hands” as a reflection on the hurt that they have caused to others. Write a poem about the way you hurt someone and the regrets you have about it. You can be direct about the situation or use a metaphor to talk about the emotions behind it, without naming any names.