"Art, like morality, consists of drawing the line somewhere."
--G.K. Chesterton
"The man's body is sacred and the woman's body is sacred.../Each belongs here or anywhere just as much as the well-off, just as much as you."
--Walt Whitman
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According to the Buddha, right speech is a statement that is timely, true, kind, helpful (connected to liberation), and spoken with a mind of good-will. Let us all try to observe this precept.
Last month I shared part of a letter from my prison pen pal "Jon", in which he talked about the crucial role of books and libraries in rehabilitating criminals. Jon and his co-defendant have just been convicted of a double homicide during a burglary, and now he is waiting for the jury to decide whether to sentence him to life without parole or the death penalty. He writes about his trial:
"The hardest parts were when family members of the departed testified. Then when some of my ex-girlfriends and family I haven't seen in years testified on my behalf, I was shocked to hear all the good they had to say, but it did hurt a lot as well. I know I'll likely never get out, but it makes it harder to see and be reminded of all the harm I caused to others, and of all the opportunities I had at having a happy life."
It's a sad commentary on the brutality of prison life that Jon, age 30, says he'd actually prefer the death sentence:
"I do not want to die, of course, but on death row I can live in solitude and peace. With life without, I will be forced to have a cellie, and be around others. That is a very negative environment for me, and I don't believe I can handle it. I cannot focus around others at all. Also considering I walked away from the racist prison politics in my past, it can be rough for me, and I would likely be forced to violence, or not be able to contain myself. I suppose the best way to explain my feelings is to pose a question. Would you choose to live for twenty years in peace and then die, or would you choose to live 50-70 years in torture?"
Given that it's taken the state of California seven years to bring Jon's case to trial, his estimate of 20 years to execution may be close to the truth.
Meanwhile, here are some poems he's been writing while he waits to learn what his future holds.
Shujin
With bare walls of graffiti, cut and carved, etched and written. Halls of hallowed curses, and purses held on paper. Smitten with the photos, of foes and scarlet maidens. Lost souls, cups for bowls, salvation becomes the answer. Animals are cockroaches, or perhaps the spider that can eat them. Rats are thieves, swift in the night, taking crumbs, and leaving their stench. Light comes through the cracks, on benches made of stone. Whispers travel dreamily in silence, in an alliance of shujin prayers. Listening closely to the air, a gentle remedy, defeats the dark.
****
Awaiting
Clanging chains and rattling hopes awaiting an outcome that should surely come to death there's no gray lines no more right and wrong just have patience the verdict might come soon Were they so surprised that I told the truth and was it such a shock when I explained pro-death waiting for results to see what they'll decide will they understand true justice or will they cower down inside
****
When the Sun Goes Down
There was a sunset in the sky and a fabrication in the stars it's falling into darkness never near nor far the coldness will come soon consuming all the warmths of all the temples' stones-- What is left will be a shell of just another shattered youth
