Message from a Sunflower
By Arnoldo Juarez
There’s a lone captivating sunflower
Here on the prison yard
The sunflower is dainty,
High reaching and has brimming
Green foliage
And it is flourishing despite
Beign fall
Inmates observe it as they walk by
And some enclose to gaze at this
Lovely plant
It si an ambient sight and an
Attractive backdrop for picture
Snapshots
But I solely decided to heed to
The ethereal sunflower
It was a gloomy day when I
Curiously but anxiously took the
Time to listen
I stood upright facing the face
That had yellow, sleek rays
Around the velvety mesmerizing
Face
AS I was waiting for a message
A bright illuminating light
Manifested above
And the face began uttering
The eloquent tender sunflower
Expressed reverent admiration to
Me for being receptive and
vulnerable in the penitentiary
that may have mundane individuals
and the primary essence to me
was that it graciously requested
divine virtue, ardent humility and
a spirit of beauty
The sonance of the voice was that
Of a thousand waterfalls and
Sweet as honey
With my soul being overwhelmed
From the surreal encounter I
Departed gladly accepting the
Request
One breezy afternoon as I began
Taking a stroll around the track I
Glanced to the blooming sunflower
And winked in approval
From the gusty wind one exclusive
Leaf with foliage seemed to be
Waving at me with enthusiasm.
Escape Under a Sunflower
By Arnoldo Juarez
A condemned inmate was burden in the penitentiary after two long decades of incarceration. Surrounded by miles of lustrous and keen razor wire. Many sky-high guard towers with armed officers. Stars don’t emit rays of light over the prison. The sepulcher where the captives are buried is much bigger than the vintage fortified prison. An enormous stout sunflower flourished in the middle of the prison yard. It grew inconceivably high. Delighted birds, butterflies and bees perched on the massive lush foliage. Everyone was in amazement over the beautiful huge plant. The condemned inmate pondered about a daring and clever plan to escape. He didn’t tell a single soul about his audacious attempt to run off. Immediately after the loudspeaker announced the yard recall in the foggy night, he bolted and climbed the sunflower plant. With all his strength and might he climbed to get away from prison. The blaring horn was heard and the bright red alarm lightings flashed. All the inmates on the yard got on their bellies before all the officers rushed to the yard. U.S. Marshals arrived within minutes. A prison warden was interrupted from his jovial time in his chamber. He burned in anger in hearing of the attempt. The roly-poly warden with a hefty mustache and a cigar in his mouth looked up at the escapee. With a chuckle he warned the desperado: “My amigo, you have 5 minutes to get down or I will order my guard towers and U.S. Marshals to begin shooting.” He became enraged because the escapee kept climbing up the giant sunflower. All the guard towers and U.S. Marshals drew, cocked and fired their Winchester rifles and double-barrel shotguns. Flares of gunshots illuminated the obscure night. But the escapee wasn’t harmed by the whizzing barrage of bullets. The officers reloaded, cocked, aimed and began the barrage of bullets again. Fear, doubt, and exhaustion overwhelmed the hyperventilating, fleeing prisoner. He eventually halted the climbing in surrender. But a howling wind began to bustle. And the wind, with an army of indignant birds, butterflies and bees, began to attack all the prison staff and U.S. Marshals. The escapee obtained courage and commenced the climbing. When he got near the face of the sunflower, he got on top of a hefty loose foliage. In the strong wind he flew away, far away from the prison. Every institutional officer, Marshal and prisoner was in amazement at witnessing the escape. There was no prisoner that didn’t cheer or shout over the unbelievable vanishing.
Salsa Man
By Arnoldo Juarez
I am called the salsa man
Here in the dorm
Almost every Sunday morning I
Cook up my salsa in the hotpot
It’s fiery and tasteful
I use 4 type of chilies for the
Impressive salsa
Fresh jalapenos, sweet mini peppers
Crushed red peppers, and sizzling
Hot whole Chile pods
And I also use a squirt of
Sriracha hot chili sauce for taste.
Almost every Saturday we are
Served with red gleaming fresh
Tomatoes on our breakfast tray
I chop the tomatoes to fling em
Into the hotpot
And I use the ingredients that
Gives it the savory flavor.
Lemon juice, garlic powder, seasoned
Salt, diced onion and goyas the
Perfect total seasoning.
But if I’m able to obtain fresh
Giantro it becomes an impressive
Tasty salsa.
My spicy and delicious salsa goes
On every tasty grub I make.
Charred burritos, tamales, tacos, nachos
And including sandwiches.
And my spectacular salsa also gives
Life to our bland and unpalatable
Chow hall meals.
Last time I cooked up the aromatic
Salsa my acquaintances came in from
The yard and said to me in a delightful
Tone “salsa man, as soon as
I walked in to the dorm from the
Yard I smelled your salsa”
Danger Signs on My Cell Door
By Arnoldo Juarez
There are immense danger signs across my cell door.
But a pleasing garden in the cell is vibrant and flourishing.
Bright yellow sunflowers, sleek purple orchids, and delightful tulips that decorate extravagant palaces furnished an aesthetic appearance to my domicile.
An overstretched American flag on the wall is visibly scattered behind the crowded abundance of sunflowers.
I will reside in the declining old cell erected of callous concrete for the remaining of my 297-year sentence.
A pleasant soothing brook runs through my cell that aids me to slumber in tranquility.
Officers with caution leave my cold meals on the door slot on a soft paper tray.
Vitalized and bustling bees, butterflies, and hummingbirds keep me in amusement.
My cheerful dulcet singing sweetens the florid scented florid garden.
A red gleaming sign with Spanish wording “peligro” warns everyone from my cell.
The brimming moon at night with bright glistening stars gets near my bar window to serenade me with a musical tenor.
When I elevate my hands to heaven and worship the living God, sparrows join me with glee.
Branches with foliage from hefty sunflowers overspread around the warning sign to obstruct it.
Even though I was condemned two decades ago, my loving mother sees me as her baby boy.
At times in the somber night when I weep from loneliness, fluttering white incandescent butterflies surround me.
My reflection in the tarnished lack lustered mirror is of a precious son of God.
The peligro sign on my bar door is decorated in fresh fragrant flowers every morning.
I hear a myriad of plodding from officers with cocking of their impressive long guns and of clanging sheen shackles; they escort me with clasped shackles to a cage in the famished prison yard so I can get sunshine on my tender pale skin.
Loving letters to my family arrive with red “danger” and “peligro” stamped on the middle of the envelopes.
One day I made a greeting card to the prison warden.
I used fresh cut flowers, smooth pebbles from the brook, vigorous green foliage, and for the letterings I used a calligraphy pen dipped in honey.
When the warden opened the card he gasped in amazement for in the card existed a living and blooming garden.
Aztec in An American Prison
By Arnoldo Juarez
There’s an Aztec warrior.
Bold, strong and determined.
He is confined to a cell for 297 years in an American prison.
A majestic jaguar lives with him.
In his cell flourishes a bountiful of fragrant and diverse flowers.
The florid extended plumage on his headdress is immaculate and shimmerous.
His rigid right hand clutches a weapon of emerald green obsidian blades.
And his wide and powerful left forearm always wields an embellished priced shield.
A golden eagle squeals in melancholy and hovers endlessly around the stronghold.
Every soaring guard tower has an extended gleaming American flag.
The brown Aztec, for fortitude, dances and chants in his prison cell made of callous concrete.
One day the mighty Aztec warrior contemplated about his adoring Indian girls.
He buckled and wept.
But the flowers in his cell inclined on him to console him.
And the jaguar roared strenuously to remind him of his birthright identity.
Teddy Bear in My Cell
By Arnoldo Juarez
I have a teddy bear in my cell.
I don’t feel lonely.
He makes me feel like a boy.
Before I go to sleep, I hug and kiss my soft plush teddy bear.
I’m playful with him.
Sometimes I think he acknowledges me.
He warms my heart.
I offer my teddy bear Honey Buns.
Even though I know I will not get an answer.
I read touching letters from my family to Uriah, my teddy bear.
One day, I wept from sorrow in my heart.
And noticed tears coming down from my teddy bear’s eyes.
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