Sir Jack has now been assigned to the House Judiciary Committee which includes oversight on federal prisons. As is always his case, he flew into the topic and began seeking first person sources of information. His first visit with a correctional officer was enlightening…
Prison Guard’s Pal
Working in federal prisons
In bygone years was tough
Challenges managing inmates
Used to be very rough
Today’s inmates are different
Reverse evolution
What others see as tragedy
Guards call a solution
The First Step Act required steps
Felons prefer to sit
So they are sold electronics
Games on a cheap tablet
They’re getting fatter all the time
They’re getting slower too
Inmates with electronic games
Make for a peaceful zoo
Fat, stupid, and high might seem bad
If the goal was success
But prisons are adult day care
Where zombies make less mess
Before tablets this crowd was mean
Drugs, fights, of course, gay sex
Tattoos and booze in inmate rooms
Funds flowed through cash app texts
All of those things are still around
It’s prison after all
But electronic game tablets
Keep confined creatures calm
These charges sit with cow-eyed stares
Necks bent fingers moving
As they stay glued to plastic chairs
Brains decomposing
It’s dopamine you understand
That keeps them at their games
Only one thing is troubling
Some have forgot their names
Some think prisons are for reform
Make felons citizens
But all that inmate programming
Does not reverse the trend
Thirty-six months after they leave
Half of them will be back
To purchase a new game tablet
Playing while they grow fat
Before you think this is quite wrong
Consider a short trip
To any local public school
And note the game tablets
Tablets make guard work easier
The inmates do not mind
I guess in ways they’re well prepared
For our nation’s decline
_____
Sir Jack’s 2023 Christmas Message
A star announced His sacred birth
As angels proclaimed peace on earth
The birth accomplished, peace will come
When He returns with His kingdom
It only takes directed eyes
Toward the heavens’ midnight skies
To find a star and then recall
He gave the greatest gift of all
Chaos still reigns on city streets
Our quest for peace is incomplete
Gifts of the season just bring stress
New ways are found to be depressed
Escape all that and just look up
And simply say thank you Jesus
_________
Sir Jack’s New Year Message 2024
“Maybe this time
Will be the last time”
Were words from an old song
Many sang it
Some even hoped it
But those days are long gone
In those old times
When folks saw both sides
Well it’s different now
You must agree
See things as I see
Ask no questions just bow
High inflation
Across the nation
Some deny others blame
Nothing changes
The battle rages
It’s an unending game
There’s right and left
But that’s not forward
When have turns brought success?
Some say stop Trump
And halt the weather
How is stopping progress?
Time to end this
Different voices
Are the path to be free
So this new year
Let’s now be quite clear
We must save our country
Poison arrows
Kept in their quiver
Is a way to begin
Joining forces
This change can happen
Maybe this time we’ll win
By William James Jonas IIIDear President Nixon
I know that you are dead
But you started something
That’s making me see red
You were my President
I was there till the end
No Sir we never met
Yet you were my true friend
We called them Red Chinese
In respect to Taiwan
You and Pat met Mao
The rules changed from then on
While the press hated you
The loved that killer Mao
Taiwan under the bus
The Commies became pals
So we got two pandas
To live in D.C.’s zoo
Black and white Red Chinese
Then Watergate got you
A bunch of time has passed
And Mao is dead like you
All we got from China
Were pandas and their flu
Past choices are most clear
From cheap seats with rear view
Knowing what we do now
Are pandas worth this flu?
Why China?
By William James Jonas III
Corona virus
It’s quite a disease
Once more I am glad
That I’m not Chinese
Flying to Beijing
For now is delayed
The world wrings its hands
As doctors explain
We don’t know the cause
We don’t know the cure
Started in China
On that we are sure
Free traders may think
My thoughts are a sin
But please remind me
Why we trade with them
I know it is cheap
I know they got cash
But trade with China
Gives more than a rash
They condemn Christians
And steal property
And create disease
That kills you and me
I do like pandas
The Great Wall I’ve seen
But dealing with them
Just never seems clean
To big to ignore
A fact that might be
But toxic and big
Is simply nasty
Ignoring it’s not
To avoid a mess
China is poison
It’s quite obvious
Bitten Hand
By William James Jonas III
Franklin Graham
Surprised you’re not
By ingratitude
New York took
Your healing team
Now is acting rude
Help from all
Is what they sought
And you were the first
Giving them
A hospital
Samaritan’s Purse
Franklin Graham
You dared to live
By the Word of Christ
Hated now
By the woke crowd
Rejecting His light
Ignore God
Is their demand
Or sick beds tear down
Your must be
LBGT
Or get out of town
Franklin Graham
Your bitten hand
Answering needs call
Following
Our Saviour’s steps
His hands pierced for all
Franklin Graham
Surprised you’re not
By ingratitude
America’s Back
By William James Jonas III
Co morbidity
Is the enemy
Killing us for years
Corona virus
By Chinese liars
Plays on childish fears
Doctors’ bad advice
Killed immunity
Propped us up with pills
Whored vaccinations
We became sicker
Pharma paid the bill
Corona corpses
Displayed to force us
To remain sick cows
Inactivity
Staring at TV
It’s time to clean house
This is a wake up call
About friends and foes
World Heath just turns tricks
No need to blame Trump
Diabetic slobs
Not his job to fix
Sick Americans
Can shelter in place
That’s a simple rule
When you’re fat and weak
You’re a disease mark
No need to close schools
Strong protect the weak
When strong take action
Time for us to act
Hand back their hand cuffs
State’s will open up
America’s back
It’s About Beds
By William James Jonas III
Consider the State of New York:
-Full beds in prisons mean cost to the State of New York.
-Full beds in nursing homes mean revenue to the operators.
-New York is rewarded by reducing prison costs as they can spend the money elsewhere.
-Nursing home operators survive by increasing revenue.
-Prison worker jobs are easier with fewer full bed, and as union members, their jobs are secure regardless of workload.
-Nursing homes close when revenues lag.
-Prison workers, as union members, vote.
-Nursing home operators support politicians that keep nursing home beds full.
-The Governor of New York is New York’s prison operator and has the ability to decide if nursing home beds, in New York, stay full based on health related policies.
IT IS LOGICAL FOR THE NEW YORK GOVERNOR TO ORDER NEW YORK NURSING HOMES TO TAKE COVID-19 POSITIVE CUSTOMERS WHILE EMPTYING STATE PRISON BEDS. SUCH AN ORDER MAKES NEW YORK NURSING HOMES LAWSUIT PROOF BY REMOVING ANY LIABILITY FOR COVID-19, AS THE ORDER SHARES NEW YORK’S SOVEREIGN IMMUNITY WITH THE NURSING HOME WHILE ASSURING A STEADY FLOW OF CUSTOMERS. EMPTY PRISON BEDS ALLOW SPENDING ELSEWHERE.
Why would New York Governor Andrew Cuomo issue an executive order requiring nursing homes to accept COVID-19 positive customers and a few weeks later, release dangerous inmates from New York state prisons?
It’s about money
It’s about votes
It’s about political support from nursing home operators
It’s about beds
Postscript – Cuomo’s COVID-19 Nursing Home Executive Order had a casualty that may cause some political pain as it hurts New York trial lawyers seeking to cash-in on COVID-19 nursing home injuries/deaths.
Cuomo’s COVID Casualty
By William James Jonas III
Hey trial lawyers
I’ve got bad news
Andrew Cuomo
Has just screwed you
His nursing homes
Are now immune
From your lawsuits
Corona blues
Those New York home
Got an order
Destroying your
Client fodder
COVID-19
Accept they must
Thus giving them
State protection
You trust Andy
And that was dumb
Try moving West
For lawsuit fun
Minneapoliced
By William James Jonas III
The police killed George Floyd
Because he was black
I will not stand by
It’s time to strike back
Progress has been slow
We must demand more
To honor George Floyd
Let’s go loot some stores
Hate by the police
Threatens all of us
To protests this crime
We will torch a bus
Bashing ATMs
The fault of the police
Burning property
Our message of peace
New York City Phase II
By William James Jonas III
Our pizza shop’s now open
The mayor said okay
With COVID-19 flattened
It’s time to make some hay
Where we once had ten tables
Inside we can seat two
A table on the sidewalk
And then the dumpster booth
Contact free delivery
Provides some revenue
But those orders are tricky
With BLM in view
Do not say “no black olives”
No olive bigotry
The same is true for pepper
Don’t say black, red, or green
If you say such nasty things
There’ll be consequences
Your home and face on tick tock
You’ll come to your senses
As you might guess these new rules
Our business model changed
Pizza sales won’t pay the bills
But there’s another way
Since our police are racists
As Black Lives taught us well
Getting rid of our police
Changes what we can sell
So when you order pizza
With extra pepper jack
Buy one of our machine guns
Along with meth or crack
Fake Noose
By William James Jonas III
No noose is good noose
Bubba does not agree
“My NASCAR racing slump”
“Systemic bigotry”
“A rope’s a rope you dope”
“And that rope is a crime”
“It’s about me you see”
“Give me my spot light time”
Race bait need not be real
To make the mad dogs snap
How stupid we’ve become
It’s time to take a nap
Enough
By William James Jonas III
If preachers and teachers are not essential
Your country is all messed up
While kids die on sidewalks mayors get haircuts
Not the time to defund cops
The doctors say its time to open the schools
Science should not be ignored
But we all know teacher unions hate science
As kids get stupid and bored
Amazon can’t bring children education
Fake news does not understand
When sick geezers can close an entire nation
Things have gotten out of hand
Gym Exodus
By William James Jonas III
I own a New York gym
And follow all the rules
Why does my Governor
Treat me like I’m a fool?
COVID had shut us down
That’s what’s said on TV
But New York’s shut down rules
Will be the death of me
Cuomo has these phases
They number one to four
When your number comes up
You can open your doors
Now something has happened
Worse than a mere blunder
Somehow our Empire State
Failed to give gyms numbers
One thing that is certain
As sure as Chinese Flu
It’s bad when your state says
“We will get back to you”
Gyms that can’t be opened
Fail like a dumb idea
Can’t wait for a number
I’m getting out of here
Palm Honor
John Th Ts
By William James Jonas III
I have stood by
This main thoroughfare
Not one morning
If anyone cares
From Bethany
To Jerusalem
By foot or colt
The only way in
They come to pray
But mostly to feast
All pass by me
The great and the last
And on this day
My life will conclude
Torn limb from limb
For a sacred use
A glory death
For me nonetheless
As my palms line
The path of Jesus
Thomas Revealed
By William James Jonas III
Your legacy remains off doubting him pulpits label you as doubting Thomas yet your life with him was off loyalty
Has hazardous trip made others tremble you said to die with him was above life loyal in the moment but mistaken
Because only with him is there true life risking all you new to walk with our Lord asked where he goes and to show the way
So could you have doubted his victory?
Thomas, I think you loved him so much
You just wanted to touch him one more time
In that selfish moment you paid the price
To be called doubting Thomas by all men
He knows the truth within your lion heart
Disciple not ready to say goodbye
Soon-to-be learning he never leaves us
Put up thy sword
John 3:16, 12:13, 18:11, 27
He said put up your sword
Yet we needed to fight
Yes we were outnumbered
But ours the side of right
The hate of Jews corrupt
An enemy not new
He is the son of God
And they refuse the truth
Entered Jerusalem
Less than a week ago
Hosanna the crowd cried
We twelve knew this was so
Now Judas brings a mob
Thugs working for chief priests
While they are more than me
With this sword I’m a beast
He said put up thy sword
I had only begun
He said put up thy sword
With swords I would have one
These haters are cowards
That’s why they came at night
Soft corrupt and greedy
They can’t defeat his light
He orders my sword sheathed
Speaks of the father’s cup
Allows them to prevail
In glee they tie him up
Before the cock will crew
My loyalty will fold
Thrice will I deny him
This sin he had foretold
So without swords of man
His victory is won
For God so loved the world
He gave his only son
Pilate Pushed
John 19 12:16
Thou art not Caesar’s friend
The chief priests hissed at me
Juice are just too complex
Why can’t they let me be
My job to keep the peace
On Chief priests I rely
Now they bring me Jesus
While screaming crucify
Without rhyme or reason
They want to kill this man
Demanding I help them
As only Romans can
It is a festival
I do not want a mob
They will inform Caesar
If I don’t do my job
A Roman governor
Should not be bossed by Jews
Giving in shuts them up
What do I have to lose
He Is Risen
By William James Jonas III
He is risen
That is the news
He is risen
I am confused
He is risen
A tomb empty
He is risen
I ran to see
He is risen
While Chief priests lie
Hiding from truths
Pay Roman bribes
He is risen
Coward am I
When he was chained
Three times denied
He is risen
And I failed him
Yet God’s promise
He is risen
We’re saved from death
But what to do
He is risen
Lord where are you?
And now his words
Return to me
He will see us
In Galilee
He is risen
Victory won
God loved the world
Gave us his son
He was here
Acts 12:1-6
Hearing the Passover throng
Through Jerusalem jail walls
The temple is cashing in
Display James severed head
King Herod plays to the crowd
When unleavened feast concludes
I will be the second act
A show to buy loyal Jews
These chains do not stop my prayers
My joy is doing his will
With a mission just begun
John the Baptist beheaded
Hating and lying Chief priests
Inflaming a crowds bloodlust
Chains for his prelude to death
A jail was his battle ground
This feast became victory
Claimed with cross and empty tomb
He was here he took my place
The work that he gave to me
Mission of his commission
His church praying unceasing
Wild chains and guards to remain
My death will come with no fear
At a time to his purpose
Jesus Christ was in this place
All America
By William James Jonas III
Moaning morning mammals
They chat on the TV
Acting almost life like
airbrushed humanity
Performing on Fox news
And MSNBC
Today show GMA
Each channel has the breed
Breaking stories constant
Always some new crisis
Who fixes the broke news
On Trump tweets or Isis
Some all red most are not
As they urge your buy-in
With bias that’s so clear
It’s not news it’s lying
Non were hired for smarts
They must think we’re that dumb
Just one morning listen
Will make your brain feel numb
Hate Mail
By William James Jonas III
You are a felon!
Ha Ha Ha!
That’s what the hate mail said
The guy writes me so often
He’d cry if I were dead
The hours that are wasted
In unkind notes to me
After a while
Make me smile
I’m a celebrity
Bilious letters
Like kind ones
Are just the price of fame
So keep those missives coming
And don’t misspell my name
Send My Hate Mail To Jesus
By William James Jonas III
Refrain: Send my hate mail to Jesus
I said to the postman
Send my hate mail to Jesus
He loves me so I can
Send my hate mail to Jesus
The sender needs him too
Send my hate mail to Jesus
He’ll take it postage due
Verse I: Hate mails’s found it way to me
Almost all my life
Business partners former friends
Children and Ex wife
Even folks I’ve never met
Somehow will write me
But I’ve found a special path
To serenity
Refrain
Verse II When the mail call brings to me
A new piece of hate
Venom takes a written form
Someone did create
I’m no good a dirty dog
It’s always the same,
Wonder who they wrote before
They found me to blame
Refrain
Missing
By William James Jonas III
My left thumb moved across my palm
As it had done for years
Somehow this time I caught myself
Inside I shed some tears
My thumb touched then my ring finger
You know a ring’s not there
A judge had it removed one day
Without a human care.
That ring never defined our love
Jail rules took it away
It’s one more thing I miss from you
Love does not miss a day
Answered Prayer
By William James Jonas III
Thank you Lord Jesus
You answered myt prayer
I asked from comfort
And absence of care
No money worries
Just rest for a spell
You gave that to me
In this prison cell
My boat of troubles
Was full to my eyes
Some I invited
Some were a surprise
It was overwhelming
My saddness was real
Now it’s all better
In concrete and steel
Living in prison
Is a simple life
Food is provided
And no home front strife
Quiet not lonely
Is my life today
Long talks with Jesus
As I read and pray
Jesus you did it
You brought me some peace
Life in satan’s town
Had been killing me
Not here forever
My sentence will end
But there’s no hurry
With you as my friend
Peter James and John Mt 17 1-9, 26:37 Lk 5:10, 8:5
By William James Jonas III
Friends with a shared business
We three called by him
Beside the sea formed us
As fishers of men
We were part of the twelve
Three times set apart
To witness his glory
Yet understood not
On a sacred summit
Jesus did commune
Elias and Moses
Told us tell no one
Then we were the escort
To Jairus home
As he raised his daughter
Us three in the room
The final time he called
For only us three
Was that final evening
In Gethsamane
We three were only men
But he made us more
Apostles of Jesus
We three for the Lord
Real Rights Restored
By William James Jonas III
Hey you bleeding hearts
Your two-faced game is clear
Letting felons vote
Will help you win next year
You are such selfish garbage
Agenda in plain sight
You don’t give a tinker’s cuss
About the Bill of Rights
If you stopped mirror gazing
And wanted to end harm
Read the Second Amendment
It’s the right to bear arms
The Constitution gave it
You punks took it away
Since you claim we paid our debt
Why don’t you act that way?
So stop your pompous preening
And give us liberty
You’re the ones that claim to care
Arms will make us free
“No, we don’t have NA (Narcotics Anonymous),
but we have 257 other activities to occupy your time.”
Warden C. Gomez, February 2019, FCI Gilmar, Glenville, West Virginia
By William James Jonas III
There is a theory
That some would suggest
The wardens don’t like
Drugs inmates ingest
But that is quite wrong
They like it this way
Cause they don’t allow
Chapters of NA
One thing is quite clear
So think it over
You only fight drugs
Promoting sober
The SHU (Special Housing Unit) does not work
Transfers are a waste
A sober inmate
The junkies can’t face
The only reason
For this inactiom
Is twelve steps apply
To warden’s addiction
With NA on site
There might be a risk
Someone might condemn
The booze in their desk
Fathers Day 2019
By William James Jonas III
My thoughts this year
Are far from new
As I give thanks
For all you do
Some how
Some way
Your gifts to me
Define the man
I seek to be
In all my years
I’ve not yet grasped
How you were there
The first and last
Your life and love
I celebrate
That you’re my Dad
This Fathers Day
Joseph – inspired from Matthew 1:16-2:23 and Luke 1:26-2:52
By William James Jonas III
My life was quiet
The prospects were good
King David as kin
My work was in wood
Nazareth business
And a fiance
In all earthly ways
I sure had it made
Until confronted
With a rumor wild
The one I’m to wed
Already with child
Plans now are a wreck
But what can one say
This is a disgrace
I’ll move on some way
Faith has always been
A part of my life
An angel appears
And said “Keep your wife”
A child born of God
I can’t comprehend
Jesus was my son
Yet more than a man
Torah and trade skills
He did quickly grasp
Me teaching my God?
Sometimes I just laughed
His body grew strong
Our world was in wait
I would not survive
To witness His fate
God so loved the world
He sent us His Son
Christ called one man Dad
And I was that one
“No we don’t have NA (narcotics anonymous), but we have 257 other activities to occupy your time.” Warden C. Gomez, FUCI-Gilmer, Glenville, West Virginia
There is a theory
That some would suggest
The wardens don’t like
Drugs inmates ingest
But that is quite wrong
They like it this way
‘Cause they don’t allow
Chapters of NA
One thing is quite clear
So think it over
You only fight drugs
Promoting sober
The SHU* does not work
Transfers are a waste
A sober inmate
The junkies can’t face
The only reason
For this inaction
Is twelve steps apply
To wardens’s addiction
With NA on site
There might be a risk
Some one might condemn
The booze in their desk
* Special Housing Unit
UNICOR Blues
By William James Jonas III
Unicor blues, oh Unicor blues
Wearin’ that khaki, no tennis shoes
Start work at eight do nothing ‘til two
Never in red with Unicor blues
Got a lot of time, no drugs to kick
Caseworker say no programs to pick
The thing to avoid is bein’ bored
That’s why I’m workin’ at Unicor
Unicor blues, my Unicor blues
Only thing I’ve lost is my IQ
Start work at eight, do nothin’ ‘til two
Can’t stay in bed with Unicor blues
Tried kitchen work, the money’s for real
You’re paid two bucks, the rest you just steal
Egg for two stamps ‘aint my set of shoes
I like singin’, the Unicor blues
The library work, that is ok
Nothin’ to do, read papers all day
But I want a job that is big news
The gig like that is Unicor blues
Unicor workers, we have it made
Walk to the warehouse, always get paid
Don’t ask the question, what do we do
You’re in the band, play Unicor blues
Unicor blues, yeah Unicor blues
Union conditions without the dues
Not really a business, don’t be confused
Just doin’ time and Unicor blues
Each Day
By William James Jonas III
Each day is a mountain
Three parts compose
The summit Gods spirit
The eternal goal,
With my human body
Physical is core
I must be strenght building
For what is in store
God’s spirit with my strength
Then will manifest
Each day new creations
His love to attest
If each of theese pieces
Are within each day
What remains matters not
Paradise awaits
Sharing Time
By William James Jonas III
My Great love, I ask you not
To serve prison time with me
That service would be alone
As I am already free
Earthly confines matter naught
When our spirits are entwined
Days are filled with thoughts of you
And new insights for all time
Poems I write are not escape
It is our reality
My hand touches yours each day
As your face I always see
So while the miles between us
Still remain a wretched fact
Our soul mate life continues
Together great bliss expect
Three Monkeys
By William James Jonas III
Three young monkey on the beach
Know it’s time to have a drink
One is happy, one is sad
One does not know what to think
Thirsty monkeys with big cups
For lemonade cool and pink
One is happy, one is sad
One does not know what to think
Ocean swim with eight armed friend
He gets scared and makes blue ink
One is happy, one is sad
One does not know what to think
Monkey wander in the woods
Skunk jumps out and quickly stinks
One is happy, one is sad
One does not know what to think
Monkeys sitting back at school
Watchful teachers never blink
One is happy, one is sad
One does not know what to think
Monkeys see a movie star
Her gold chain has many links
One is happy, one is sad
One does not know what to think
Hungry monkeys eat good food
Nutrients A to zinc
One is happy, one is sad
One does not know what to think
Helpful monkeys do cleanup
Washing dishes in the sink
One is happy, one is sad
One does not know what to think
Sleepy monkeys say their prayers
Time to get their forty winks
One is happy, one is sad
One does not know what to think
Inspired by Reverend John Lewis, St. Mark’s Episcopal Church
SHU (Special Housing Unit)
Life in the SHU
By William James Jonas III
Life in the SHU, Life in the SHU
Roomservice daily, orange rubber shoes
Why are you here, don’t have a clue
Breakfast in bed that’s life in the SHU
SHU life’s easy, no work to do
They pick up laundry, no walk for you
Nice plastic mugs, make your own brew
Meds are delivered, Living’ in SHU
Things can get strange, livin’ in SHU
Thre’s a transvestite, what can you do
Just act normal, aint’ about you
Who is the cellmate, one more day through
Your door is locked, most of the time
No rush to get up, everything’s fine
Get your K2, after count time
Sometimes it’s not good. Might be SHU slime
I went to SHU, Christmas last year,
Was selling pictures, Porno Reindeer
Is that a crime, not very clear
Could use a lawyer, send me one here
Life in the SHU, Life in the SHU
Just have a good time, what can they do
You are still here, too bad for you
Order some books, don’t gripe in SHU
On 3/20/2019, the National Academies of Science, Engineering, and Medicine and the National Institute on Drug Abuse issues a report requiring prisons to offer Suboxone
(buprenorphine) funded by Medicare.
Prison Junkie Alert
By William James Jonas III
Hey there cellie, I’ve got real good news
Help’s on it’s way, for our drug abuse
Now pretty soon, things will be just fine
We’ll get Suboxone, In our pill lline
The Feds sure hate, them ole opiods
They got a plan, that’s great for us boys
The story in “USA Today” says “act now”
And “do not delay”
It’s time to rejoice, prison junkies
Make prison pushers lower their fees
Your market’s blown, Thank you Uncle Sam
Now we can get high, paid by the man
*USA Today 4/3/19 Opinion Today’s topic
Opiod Epidemie by Bill Sternberg
Dear Sparticus
By William James Jonas III
Hey Corey Bookie
We understand that
Your’re thinking about
A second Step Act
Before you rush off
get dad back on his feet
Think what he does
When he’s on the street
He’s high all the time
Like he’s in the can
But today his rent
Is paid by the man
When he’s selling drugs
Inside Prison walls
All our bills get paid
And he’s fed by y’all
You may mean well pal
You don’t have a clue
Keep dad in prison
We’ll sent cash to you
Space Available
By William James Jonas III
Quitters listen, stay on your back
When you hate school, it hates you back
But there’s a place, you will fit in
There’s lots of room, it’s called prison
You can watch sports play cards or chess
No one will care, if you’re a mess
You’ll pay for drugs, but that’s the same
Where you are now, avoiding blame, no charge for rooms, a free meal plan
Just sit around, and blame the man
Stop being sad, you’re almost there
They’ll love your dreads, or unique hair
Folk owe you stuff, well you are right
Your long term home, almost in sight
Tattoos are cheap, and no one rants
‘bout child support, or baggy pants
This is great news, you can stay high
Get your spot now, this gig’s for life
Do not worry, about release
It never works, for good junkies
Not being smart, a home run hit
the less you know, the more you fit
No Second Step Act
By William James Jonas III
First moments in prison, are just a bit surreal
Do humans live this way? Do they know how we feel?
But now a year has passed an end of time for grief
I look around, and I have found
A great sense of relief, cause this population
Is toxic with a T, and can add not a thing
To the land of the free, prisons house animals
A hateful chicken coop, few even read or write
Or function in a group, undisciplined junkies
With no redeeming skills, if we were freed
We’d surely breed, increassing social ills
Dollars housing each one, prevents even more son’s
Keeping us under key, is very wise indeed
Guards are another group that really should not breed
While guards are free to roam, their procreation stalls
As they prefer sex found, within prison walls
Reformers back to sleep, you know what you do
Don’t mess up a good thing, we’re thinkling about you
Eager Weasel
By William James Jonas III
Beware of eager weasels with desks near the boss
Gossip is their god, self promotion at all costs
Masking initiative, suggestions at a snap
Claiming to be helpful but that’s a bunch of crap
These shallow sacks of silly can’t spell the word team
Posturing as powerful, that’s their twisted dream
Eager Weasels never breed, they love themselves so
Work around I’ve found that’s best for weasels you know
Introduction to “Buck Fever”
By William James Jonas III
When President George W. Bush decided to reward West Virginia voters with a shiny new prison in Gilmer County, the federal holiday list did not include Appalachia’s observance of deer slaughter. Notwithstanding this government oversight, culture has triumphed over a federal payroll.
Buck Fever – Ode to a West Virginia Prison Guard
‘Hope you get a big deer
That is what they say
Instead of good morning
Or have a nice day
The month is November
Appalachian state
Get yourself a ten point
Or you will not rate
If you’re a prison guard
Life just aint complete
‘Less you got a freezer
That’s full a’ deer meat
All felons are sleeping
The warden’s away
It’s hunting season
Boss man’s gotta play
Pokey (to the tune “Okie from Muskogee”)
By William James Jonas III
We don’t smoke marijuana in the pokey
Meds are free for us and paid by you
Sometimes things get tense and there is a lockdown
We lay in bed smokin’ that K2
That’s the life ya lead when you’re in the pokey
No rent for our rooms and food is free
Taxman ‘aint allowed here at the pokey
I’ll watch sports you keep your liberty
Back To School
By William James Jonas III
Ray don’t like his cage
Ray stays in a rage
Ray know white folk don’t care
Ray say life ‘aint fair
Ray has got no breaks
Ray’s judge’s on the take
Ray don’t have no hope
Ray wants to smoke dope
Ray shouldn’t feel this way
He’s in First Grade
And this is his first day
La Perla
By William James Jonas III
The secret to romance, according to a certain inmate demographic, is La Perla (the pearl) sometimes called a domino or marble. While the name, size, and procedure for installation, in the penis, vary, it’s advocates swear to the satisfaction of wives and girlfriends.
Recently, the story of La Perla made its way to Hawaii and the sing-a-long bar of the legendary Don Ho commissioned new lyrics to that signature song “Tiny Bubbles.”
Tiny Pebbles
Tiny pebble
In my dick
Makes her happy
That’s the trick
Magic pebble
Makes her feel good all over
And it’s a feelin’ that she will be feelin’ from me everytime
Zoo
By William James Jonas III
Quebec flight to Miami delayed at mid-point
In fact the whole truip was a bust
As head of the family gaggle please know
A perfect venue for all was a must
The mountain retreat serene
But kids wanted something to do
No worries I said as we tucked them in bed
This place has a wonderful zoo
A zoo! That’s boring! The adolescents moaned
But little ones were satisfied
Oh give it a shot do not be a snot
Don’t complain until you have tried
Expectations in check we went to inspect
The local animal collection
And we were please to see a menagerie
About us in every direction
Big and small animals from far and near
Little ones looked on without fear
From Africa, South of the Border
Even some freaks with genetic disorders
The zoo was a calm and peaceful dear place
The animals there adored their own space
Our days were a dream we loved our quaint zoo
When departure came the kids were quite blue
We have discovered this wonderful zone
When flights are delayed this is a great home
“One thing we will miss” the younger ones said
Is the way the animals feed us bread
This report came from a family of Canadian Geese visiting Federal Correctional Institution – Gilmer, Glenville, West Virginia when there south bound travels were delayed.
Unicor is the Federal Prison Industries Program
Unicor Blues
By William James Jonas III
Unicor blues, oh Unicor blues
Wearin’ that khaki, no tennis shoes
Start work at eight, do nothin’ ’til two
Never in red with Unicor blues
Got a lot of time, no drugs to kick
Caseworker say no programs to pick
The thing to avoid, is bein’ bored
That’s why I’m workin’ at Unicor
Unicor blues, my Unicor blues
Only thing I’ve lost is my IQ
Start work at eight, do nothin’ ’til two
Can’t stay in bed with Unicor blues
Tried kitchen work, them money’s for real
You’re paid two bucks, the rest you just steal
Egg for two stamps, ‘aint my set of shoes
I like singin’, the Unicor blues
The library work, that is ok
Nothin’ to do, read papers all day
But I want a job, that is big news
The gig like that is Unicor blues
Unicor workers, we have it made
Walk to the warehouse, always get paid
Don’t ask the question, what do we do
You’re in the band play Unicor blues
Unicor blues yeah Unicor blues
Union conditions without the dues
Not really a business, don’t be confused
Just doin’ time and Unicor blues
Getting Over The Wall
By William James Jonas III
President Trump had taken a nap
It was three AM
And then his smart phone buzzed with a text
The buzz from a friend
The text from Manny the Mexican Prez
Short and in English of course
Trump said “Love that guy” kissed Melania
Walked like a cat to his porch
With a sleeping bride
Trump calls from outside
Manny’s message brought intrigue
“Trump, if you want a wall, keep your eye on the ball.
Follow my Mexican lead.
Yankees can build
But I got workers
That need jobs now and work cheep.”
Then came Manny’s chide
“Your cost of supplies
In US is way too steep.
Stop arguing with that old West Coast hag
And her two-faced snobs
Go to your office
And write me a check
I will do your job
A Mexican wall will be best of all.
We build cheap, fast, strong.
You get your dumb wall
I get Yankee cash
Let’s just get along”
“It’s a deal” Trump told the Mexican Prez
“Except paying you”
“I guessed you might blink at that” Manny winked
“Here is what to do”
“My labor, the best and ready to work
Supplies are already ordered
The check you do send we will just pretend
Buys a wall on MY southern border”
“I knew we could be pals
Let’s do lunch with the gals
No staff, let’s just have some fun
I have always said”
As Trump went to bed
“Two walls are better than one.”
West Virgnia Travel Safety
By William James Jonas III
Well thar you are Ethel
The news man was clair
The areo plane crashed
‘Cause of human air
Maybe mechanical
The air was real bad
When air crashes air planes
Thangs sure nuf are sad
So if you ride them planes
Make sure to take care
Trust nothin’ that ‘aint yours
Jus’ brang your own air
Eager Weasel
By William James Jonas III
Beware of eager weasels with desks near the boss
Gossip is their god, self promotion at all costs
Masking initiative, suggestions at a snap
Claiming to be helpful, but that’s a bunch of crap
These shallow sacks of silly can’t spell the word team
Posturing as powerful, that’s their twisted dream
Eager Weasels never breed, they love themselves so
Work around I’ve found, that’s best for weasels you know
John
By William James Jonas III
They killed my cousin today
Now with Father you see
A wilderness voice silenced
Echoes eternally
A camel haired clarion
John the Baptist his name
Angels told of his birth
My coming he proclaimed
But men with power
Kill men without
To gain girls favor
While it may seem cruel
They are just lost
Awaiting Saviour
John’s time has now passed
Mine has begun
Victory at last
With death of Son
Bethesda Pool Jn 5:1-15
By William James Jonas III
While Jerusalem feasts
A crowd at Sheep Gate
Bethesda awaiting
Pool waters rotate
Angels stirring the pool
Bring promises of healing
Thirty eight years sickness
In one man heart breaking
Our Master asks the man
“Do you want to be well”
“Is that not clear? I’m here
To the stirred pool, please help”
“Rise take your bed and walk”
His voice came to the man
Knowing not t’was Jesus
Yet up he got and ran
Later in the temple
With health he met Our Lord
“See you have been made well
Stay strong and sin no more”
The man now was in awe
To all Jews he did tell
How at pool Bethesda
Jesus had made him well
Mount Moments Mt 6
By William James Jonas III
From a mountain lectern, His wisdom came forth
Guiding our path closer to God
Crowds listen closely to His immortal words
The Way to glories beyond
Seeking earthly praise of heavenly labor
Absurd when you work for the Lord
Show boating piety with cheers from the pit
Chasing neighbors’ positive word
Cheapens Godly efforts, makes His praise unfit
Act in simple silence, as you do good things
Stop playing your trumpet, see what Father brings
Your left hand’s charity, and all acts of alms
Need be known by no one, even your left palm
The Father sees all, and from Him Blessings flow
Accolades of this world are cheap circus shows
Two masters honored, impossibility
One Master is ruler of eternity
When you approach prayer
There’s no need for flare
Find ye a closet forthwith
Ignore pagan creeds
He knows every need
Seek first the kingdom that’s His
Deviled Pigs Mt 8:28-34 Mk 5:1-20 Lk 8:26-39
By William James Jonas III
Tombs of Gergesenes
Two possessed men reside
Blocking all road travel
From Jesus cannot hide
“Why do you torment us
Before it is the time
If you must cast us out
Place us in nearby swine”
Jesus told the demons “Go”
The pigs were quickly found
Tormented beasts ran east
Dove in the sea and drown
Swine shepherds without herd
Ran into the city
Proclaiming what happened
Asking local pity
A delegation came
Speaking to our Master
Requesting we leave town
Fearing more disaster
Over Sight Jn 9
By William James Jonas III
Always blind
Born that way
Jesus sees
Men ask why
Father’s sins
Or of I
Neither one
Master says
Works of God
Manifest
Within me
Spit made clay
On my eyes
Then pool wash
Siloam
Now I see
Neighbours doubt
It is me
I was healed
By Jesus
Where is He
I know not
Pharisees
Question me
My miracle
Is a sin
No healing
On Shabbat
Work that day
Not of God
Mom and dad
Must confirm
Birth blindness
But they fear
Jewish wrath
Temple ban
Silence safe
Once again
I am asked
Who healed you
Story’s same
They got mad
Kick me out
Jesus heard
Of my plight
He found me
Then I said
I believe
Pharisee
Cannot see
Why blind men
Have no sin
What The Band Saw Mt 9:18-29 Mk 5:21-43 Lk 8:40-56
By William James Jonas III
My work is with music, and death drives our trade
When the wealthy die, there’s money to be made
Our group of flute players, are not profiteers
We play when death comes, just a part of group tears
The house of Jairus, is our gig today
The guy’s daughter died, his wife asked us to play
Jairus a synagogue source of great power
Was gone as his child, saw her final last hour
Where he was who knew, he just rushed down the street
Screaming about some guy, named Jesus to meet
So now we are playing as mourners lament
And we have no clue, where sad father went
Distraught daddy returns, there are five of them
The group is Jesus, John, Peter, James, and him
“Your daughter is dead; do not waste Teacher’s time.”
But Jesus took control, the crowd sent outside
From a quiet corner, we saw what he said
“Parents, Peace Be With You, your daughter’s not dead.”
With words “Talith cumi” He told the young thing
And then she got up as if it was morning
“This child is hungry, give her something to eat.”
He swore all to silence, and walked down the street.
Almost Stoned Jn 10:22-42
By William James Jonas III
Dedication feast
Always draws a crowd
To Solomon’s porch
The temple gets loud
“Hey Jesus! Talk straight!
End all of this doubt
Are you the true Christ?
Say it, in or out?”
“What more can be said
When you don’t believe?
Work’s in Father’s name
You just do not see.
My sheep know my voice
While goats move along
My sheep know that I
And Father are one.”
“Now you have done it!”
The mob sent its cry
“Your good works are fine,
But blasphemers die.”
“Check with your lawyers
Before stoning spree.
Father’s work I do.
See that and believe.”
While crowds befuddled
By Son of Man
Jesus departed from
Their wicked hands
Gold Fish Coins Mt 17:24-27
By William James Jonas III
One day it was
Jesus and me
Capernaum gate
Just arriving
Then the temple
Collector came
Asking for taxes
In the Lord’s name
Does your Teacher
Pay temple fees?
Of course he does
I said with ease
He expected to get the call
To pay this man acting for God
Then we discussed how earthly kings
Never collect from their siblings
“Nevertheless, we will pay them”
Avoiding a situation
“Go find a hook, cast in the sea
Returning fish, will have money.”
Corn Pickers Mt 12:1-8 Mk 2:23-28 Lk 6:1-5
By William James Jonas III
It may be Shabbat
But travel we will
Earthly days numbered
So much to fulfill
As I instructed
We carry no kit
Disciples hungry
Corn satisfies it
Until some big wig
At the synagogue
Starts quoting torah
And Shabbat laws
Since they are readers
They need to recall
David’s shewbread meal
With no priests at all
Yes it is Sabbath
But do not complain
Even on this day
Son of Man does reign
Sea Stroll Mt 14-25-33 Mk 6:47-52 Jn 6:15-21
By William James Jonas III
The travels with Him
Have reached a new place
Electrified folk
Want kings of their race
So he’s mountain top
And we are at sea
Strong winds are blowing
Save us is our plea
It is the fourth watch
Strong winds boat filling
Jesus approaches
Walking not swimming
We think we have died
He says “It is I”
And as he steps in
Our destination
Stone Choice Jn 8:1-12
By William James Jonas III
Mount of Olives refuge, to temple morning walk
People hungry for the Word, listen to me talk
Pencil pushers interrupt, dragging in a girl
Screaming words adultery, stones Moses says hurl
“But Rabbi, what say you” asked by the scheming scribes
Meriting not a response, on the ground I write
Pharisaic scribes move slow, often repeat questions
They’re still here, I looked up, offered this suggestion
Yonder is a rock pile, and you have your target
Find sinless rock tossers, get the stoning started
Writing in the dirt undone, so back to my task
Mean men are full of sin, where they went, I didn’t ask
Girl remained, still ashamed, “Where are your accusers?”
They are gone, you go on, to a sinless future
The world of Light
I bring to you
To end darkness and strife
So follow me
As is to be
And have the Light of Life
Hypocrisy’s No Secret Lk 12:1-3
By William James Jonas III
The Pharisee
The Pharisee
Always Bringing
Hypocrisy
That’s their leaven
Jesus warns
When they comment
One sees their horns
Overshadow
Is a failure
All that’s covered
Is discovered
Whispers in ears
Now housetop cheers
Dark won’t abide
Light from His side
A Keeper Mt 19:16-22 Mk 10:17-22 Lk 18:18-23
By William James Jonas III
All my rich friends relaxed, but I never slept
They bragged what they had, while all knew what I KEPT
Moses ten laws I KEPT all of my life
No coveting neighbors riches or wife
So I asked good Jesus my question great
What rule KEPT would assure heavenly fate
Instead or responding as ‘thought He should
He started asking why I called Him good
We agreed God is the only source of goodness that is pure
But my question remained for a path to heaven that is sure
Since commandments I KEPT every one every day
Jesus said it was treasure I must give away
My wealth to the poor and then follow Him
Was His response for a life without end
Now I was quite sad, had some wine and then wept
He did not understand all that I had KEPT
Betrayal Jn 13:18-30 Mt 16:14-25 Mk 14:10-21 Lk 22:21-23
By William James Jonas III
Twelve disciples loyal, we were to one another
He was our Lord Teacher, and so we all were brothers
Knowledge flowed from Him, we saw beyond today
Beside Messiah, for vanquished Rome we prayed
Now it’s uncertain, He talks of sacrifice
His death the price for, blissful eternal life
Some moments hopeful, an entry for a king
Now it’s betrayal, within our sacred ring
That yesterday so far away
One of us a traitor surreal
Yet He assured apostate near
The Jesus to us would reveal
From our steadfast band
Would come black seeds of hate
Enabling Master’s death
Bright coins for His fate
As He reached the bread, that he would hand to me
I could not believe my role that was to be
As the morsel touched the hand, touching silver soon
Satan grabbed all my being, as I left the room
“What you do, do quickly,” were His words to me
My guileless brothers thought, I left for shopping
But feasts were not a thought
As I met chief priests
On this day
I’d betray
Holy Prince of Peace
I Hate Myself Mt 4:19, 14:25-31, 16:16-17, 26:69-75 Mk 8:31-33, 14:66-72 Lk 22:54-62
By William James Jonas III
He promised I would learn life as a fisher of men.
I was no longer a fisherman.
My learning, a collection of failures.
Yet, I know He is the Christ; He smiled when I said that.
A singular time.
I thought we should fight hateful ones.
He called me Satan.
At sea, I sought to walk with Him.
Almost drowned in lack of faith.
I remained at His side, desperate to comprehend
His next blow confirmed my lowliness
He told me
Before morning light, I would thrice deny my Master and Messiah
Devastated unbelieving of my future fecklessness
Disoriented but not unarmed, I attacked when goons of nasty high priests came for Him.
My attack condemned with a rebuke that I doubted angelic battalions on call
He is now gone
I am a scared fisherman
Survival seems all that is real
They will kill me as soon as they prove I am connected to Him
A damsel, a maid, and then a group asks,
If I know Jesus
In fear and distress, I proclaimed, each time, that obviously I did not
His gaze found me as the cock crew
The hideous forecast fulfilled
I am now in a courtyard corner alone
Having learned that I hate myself
Soul Food Mt 14:14-23 Mk 6:34-46 Lk 9:10-17 Jn 6:1-15
By William James Jonas III
It seems to happen where ever we go
The crowds come for Jesus they all want to know
Without preparation they rush to see Him
No room or board plans yet much more than a whim
Yet people get hungry and there’s food in town
“Master, send them away to eat and lie down”
As He commanded, we carry no larder
Still feeding the mob is what He has ordered
Five loaves and two fishes is all we have found
The multitude is told to sit on the ground
And after He blesses the fishes and bread
We pass food about and all people get fed
Five thousand men and beyond were filled that day
Then our Teacher went up to a mountain to pray
Transfiguration Lk 9:28-35 Mt 17:1-13 Mk 9:1-13
By William James Jonas III
The Master called three of us John, James, and me
A mountain before us to climb, pray, and see
Exhausted but with Him, the summit our goal
A spiritual retreat, as He fed our soul
His prayer brought bright light to His face and His hands
His garments were glistering white as the sands
My body is weak so sleep came as I feared
Not so when Moses and Elijah appeared
We but observers to their sacred exchange
Death venue Jerusalem as they explained
I then spoke out to suggest what should be done
Three tabernacles we build for these great ones
A cloud covered us with God’s voice deep within
“Jesus is my beloved Son; now hear Him”
Taxman Zach Lk 19:1-9
By William James Jonas III
Rome’s good for business, least it’s good for me
Caesar gets his piece, and I take a fee
Most folks thing I’m a no good so and so
That’s life as chief tax man in Jericho
Being the “big cheese” does not make me tall
Not quite a midget, I’m just rather small
Crowds circled Jesus, I climbed up a tree
See Him I must, but I’m just four foot three
The amazing Master walked as He taught
Came under my tree, and then He looked up
He called out my name, I came to His side
“Make haste for at thy house I must abide.”
The hate-laced crowd was completely aghast
“Jesus should not spend his time with such trash.”
His tender mercy enveloped my heart
A changed life for me, I knew where to start
Half of my wealth for the poor it is needed
Four fold repayment for those I’ve cheated
He spoke of salvation, I said Amen
As He called me a son of Abraham
Advent
By William James Jonas III
A holiday created of pagan sequence
Covered with colored lights of no consequence
Piercing this absurd costume of man
Eternal Light proclaiming His plan
Of life and joy and eternal bliss
God as a child, betrayed with a kiss
A salvation path brings peace on earth
We honor the gift of Jesus’ Birth
Merry Christmas
By William James Jonas III
As you gather for this time
To worship and adore
God’s gift of life sublime
And bliss for evermore
My gift to you
Are thoughts of love
A brighter view
Brought from above
When bells will sing
Of freedom’s ring
Heavenly News
By William James Jonas III
Heaven announced, God’s boy birth
Creator on earth for man,
To see and hear,
The hate and fear,
Part of the sacred plan,
Men of stars took note,
Of the declaration,
Did exit castles
Seeking true salvation
So began a path
With rare trinkets of wealth
Hoping to behold
The gift of God Himself
First To Know
By William James Jonas III
On a lonely cold night
‘Flock was mountainside
Away from the wild beasts
As best we could hide
When black darkness destroyed by clarion call
To proclaim peace on earth and good will for all
Our eyes transfixed angel messenger
God was now on this earth in a crib manger
Joe’s Donkey
By William James Jonas III
He owns three of us, somehow he picked me
We walk a few miles, then she has to pee
Joe is my master, he builds things with wood
Mary’s the rider, life’s essence of good
Rome has decreed, so travel we must
Back to Joe’s hometown, Bethlehem or bust
A trip to pay tax just seems very odd
For our sacred road’s a pathway to God
Is it a mission of great consequence?
I’m just a donkey, no omnipotence
I walk with great care, my precious Mary
Carries a baby, we can’t wait to see
As the time is near, the birth will take place
I know this child brings His amazing grace
No Vacancy
By William James Jonas III
This inn’s been mine for a dozen years or more
Empty rooms are always right there on my mind
I’m often repairing the roof or the floor
My bill payments are short and never on time
But serving the traveler is more than a whim
Shelter’s a promise at the Bethlehem Inn
So crowds of the season may be good for debts
But I seek to help all the ones life forgets
The empty room curse that I do truly dread
Is when I cannot give a lost soul a bed
So it broke my heart one “No Vacancy” night
A couple appeared a most pitiful sight
Young and expecting with no friends in this town
Just here for the census, no place to lay down
I checked three full times, there’s no room in the lodge
Meager was the offer, they took the garage
A few hours later, I checked on the two
And to my surprise, they knew how to make do
The nursery was arranged the best it could be
As they prepared for their blessed boy baby
A heavenly presence was guiding their moves
Stepping away humbled, no more I could do
The trio remained, with us for awhile
The boy was happy, he made us all smile
What the government calls, they can send away
The three disappeared where to I cannot say
I prayed they’d return, saved a room just in case
We were blessed just once more to see that child’s face
And my heart assures this I know my dear friend
Get ready, that boy is coming back again
I’m Glad You Were Born
By William James Jonas III
Books claim your summer birth, yet your season is this one each year
‘Not sure that day’s import, my greatest care is you came right here
Dates and places precise, will meet a prophecy
But getting these things right, did not save my lost life
Pay debts to make me free
Governments picked a winter date
For work to end, and kith and kin
To congregate and celebrate
How your blessed birth, brought peace to earth
While some men may not see
This gift of life
And end to strife
My thought supreme
This time of year
Simple and well worn
I pray this day
My God and King
Thank you for being born
Missing Boy
By William James Jonas III
He is not my son, but I do my best
In my care He is, for that I am blessed
And now He’s missing, this Passover trip
A twelve-year-old prank? I’m losing my grip
This curious boy should not disappear
His mother’s a wreck with dark raging fear
While not a rebel, the norm for his age
Lone children get hurt, no way to assuage
He’s not with uncles, or nephews or aunts
In Jerusalem, finding Him’s slim chance
Then we see our boy, in temple no less
A student a teacher, relaxed with his class
The kid’s not unkind, but he seems non-plussed
That we did not know, Father’s work comes first
He Came To My Show
By William James Jonas III
The road is my home, that and my stage
The crowd matters not, souls must be saved
My role is to warn, and heed the call
He will be here soon, to claim us all
Then as I began, matinee show
He found me backstage, blessed face a glow
Why did you show-up? My cousin friend
I merely forecast, world without end
He had other plans, things to fulfill
Then I baptized Him, that was God’s will
He is my Saviour, His will be done
When He came on stage, God blessed His Son
The Duel
By William James Jonas III
A man, He was more
But human the same
Opponent he faced
Stole souls as a game
Without any food
Forty days had passed
And yet one with God
Much more than a fast
Dark forces can tempt
Stones to become bread
That shot was not close
As souls will be fed
The next bullet came
Was cloaked as a dare
Jump off of this cliff
To prove that God cares
Reckless gunfighters
See not He is one
Testing Dad is not
The role of the Son
With one shot to spare
He prepared to win
Promising the world
By bowing to him
Another stray shot
The duel was complete
With Christ’s victory
Satan hit the street
Net Dropping
By William James Jonas III
The fishing was bad, no worse could it get
’til came the advice, on where to drop net
Advice from the shore, is never worth spit
If they were so smart, they’d have their own net
These words were unique, that came from a source
Speaking with power, t’was Jesus of course
So I moved the nets, as he instructed
The day all but lost, more than disgusted
And when the nets filled, beyond wildest dreams
A perfect days work, or that’s how it seemed
It was from His words, the catch came we agree
So we did not pause, when He said “follow me”
Thirst – John 4
By William James Jonas III
Galilee trip, is not far
Samaria to Sychar
Where Jacob built a deep well
Six hours then, rest a spell
We looked for food, at the well he remained
She drew water, without a husband’s name
His drink request, to her seemed out of place
Jews do not speak, to Samarian race
“Woman listen, as I intend
For you to never thirst again”
He then revealed God’s whole plan
Spirit and Truth for all man
Big Shots – Matthew 12:38-41
By William James Jonas III
The masters of words and law
Possessed self image quite fine
And unsure of Jesus’ rank
They asked him to give a sign
You dirty old men
Pretending no sin
Nineveh, that was your sign
Jonah, a fish
Three days dismissed
You are beyond warning time
I will repeat, simple and clear
If you were truly wise
You would open your eyes
Greater than Jonah is here
Why Stories? Matthew 13:10-16
By William James Jonas III
Teacher, Rabbi, Saviour, Friend
To us great things impart
Yet as we walk town to town
It’s tales day in and out
You have come to claim a throne
And share wisdom profound
Yet simple lesson sessions
Appear to be dumbed down
“They must have stories” He warned
All are not as you
The great heaven mysteries
Are for you blessed few
They have ears that do not hear
And eyes that lack real sight
The parable will fulfill
Their comprehension plight
Stories are the Father’s path
That I share with them
So transcending sight and sound
To forgive their sins
Servant’s Entrance Luke 19:28-40
By William James Jonas III
Jerusalem bound stopping at Bethphage
Mount of Olives prepare for next stage
A colt is waiting not far from here
We take for the Lord for the time is near
The pony retires it’s rider less life
Transporting a king that ends worldly strife
Our Master riding the crowds singing praise
The Pharisees panic when voices are raised
“Teacher rebuke them; do not let them shout”
“If I silence them, the stones would cry out.”
Tidy Temple Matthew 21:12-16 / Mark 11:15-18
By William James Jonas III
Father’s House has been messed up
By creepy punks and thieves
Ripping off the faithful
Ignored by Pharisees
Tables, they have got to go
Dove merchants a disgrace
I am not mad just certain
This trash must leave this place
My mission here is teaching
And that’s what I will do
As for chief priests they’re the least
The message is for you
Eternal Meal
By William James Jonas III
As in years before, we twelve were with Him
Celebrating freedom from Pharaoh’s whim
Recalling the time, the hour at hand
To end slavery, here we were again
Blessing the unleavened loaves He then said
“This is my body, in the form of bread”
And then as he took God’s fruit of the vine
Sharing His blood in the cup of red wine
This Pesach meal was forever transformed
Remembrance of Him, Supper of our Lord
As our work today looks toward the time
In Father’s kingdom there’s eternal wine
Gethsemane
By William James Jonas III
I asked them to come with me here to pray
Connection at night prepare for next day
My hour is close and as man I’m alone
Prayers with my friends will ease the pain to come
Blood flows from my pores my heart is cut deep
Yet my trusted men have fallen asleep
Again I call them and say stay with me
Be my prayer companions at Gethsemane
The body is weak at least in their case
My task still remains save the human race
Dozed off once again, I speak to Father
But now they awake, guards in the garden
ETA Unknown Matthew 23:36-44
By William James Jonas III
You will never know for sure, the hour of judgment day
Fools of Noah’s time confirmed, how quickly wrath held sway
Fat and happy perverts, celebrate with no pain
Dieting tomorrow, then it started to rain
There will be no difference, with hour that’s not known
Two men working the field, then one is alone
Grinding mill with women, working all in pairs
Unknown hour cometh, one will not be there
As the master of his house, in fact would have stayed home
To guard his hearth from the thief, had attack time been known
Watch therefore we do not know Son of Man’s return hour
Claiming faithful cleansed by His Majesty and Power
Thank God You Weren’t There
By William James Jonas III
You are still my King, Though missing today
‘Got up this morning, To grieve and to pray
Your death expected, The prophecy clear
Your death for our life, The hour came near
And then you were dead, I wished you weren’t right
Redemption’s remote, With your corpse in sight
A few of us ran, Coward’s not a curse
We all are the weak, For better no worse
My feet were frozen, Along with my heart
I went to the tomb, For healing to start
Each visit the same, Dead flesh needed care
Until this third day, Thank God you weren’t there!
Emmaus Walk
By William James Jonas III
You don’t understand, we told the strange man
He is Messiah, fulfilling God’s plan
Why is he still gone? some don’t comprehend
But he will be back to rule without end
Your questions are odd, manner familiar
Stay with us tonight, and share our dinner
The came the moment when bread was broken
He looked straight at us, we knew it was Him
Christ Jesus returned, bringing salvation
A gift we can’t earn, a new creation
Sheep Feeding Time
By William James Jonas III
When you died that day, our loss extreme
So craven and weak, with broken dreams
Your promised return, fishing today
Bountiful catch, we dine and pray
Now you’re asking me, cowardly Pete
Validate my love, and go feed sheep
How when where and why, a fool might ask
Yet I love you, Lord, now to the task
You soon will depart, and work will I
By feeding you sheep, until I die
Now It’s Our Job
By William James Jonas III
Eleven shell shocked soldiers, no one in the lead
Master triumphed over death, perhaps so could we
The next step unsure, it’s Rome we feared
And then as promised, our Lord appeared
Was it really Him? Who else could it be?
So He let us touch, holes in his body
The cocoon of love, now became a shell
To protect our work, His Good News to tell
Where to go unsure, what means far and near?
But proclaim we will, Christ’s truth is our spear
You Taught Me Thanksgiving
By William James Jonas III
A day
Was all
It was
To you
To eat
Miss work
Not much
To do
And then
At once
A world
Began
Of thanks
And love
And pies
Pecan
Ten years
Of bliss
You gave
To me
And shared
What thanks
Was meant
To be
Washington and Lee (Fall 1980)
By William James Jonas III
Washington and Lee University, Lexington, Virginia
Drove her to the airport
She’s back on the plane
I’m in Virginia
Walking in the rain
The weekend was magic
These are college years
But scholarship calls me
To books through the tears
Heart heavy as I walk
Freshman love-sick blues
On the library route
Past the chapel pews
As the wind hits my face
Stepping with great care
Fallen leaves on wet path
Some float in the air
A bold transformation
Of summer’s bright green
Into stunning red gold
Hues I’d never seen
There I manage the loss
My first lover friend
With colors of autumn
Shenandoah blend.
Sir Jack – The Homeless Mandarin Duck – Central Park NY
By William James Jonas III
The name is Sir Jack, a Mandarin Duck
A park’s now my home, and plum out of luck
Audubon Boston, has taken my case
There are perks when you are an endangered race
Was born in China, a nasty old hole
A trip to New York, missed date with rice bowl
Traveling solo, best way of goin’
Group travel with ducks, is worse than poison
New home’s a penthouse, viewingCentral Park
Owned by two humans, Phoebe and Big Marc
Big Marc loved the birds, Phoebe loved Big Marc
Until I got dumped, into Central Park
While still loving birds, Marc made a new friend
Big Marc left Phoebe, my gig had to end
When I came to New York
Danger I did not see
That I would get fired
By someone named Phoebe
A return trip to China would make me cry
Once home’s Central Park South, to leave is to die
The park is getting cold
Big Marc’s in the Keys
Gracey Mansion’s too old
No pond, just some trees
But I’m in a bind, and don’t have great need
A walk-up will do, with a bath tub please.
Shabbat
By William James Jonas III
Shabbat, Shalom
No one,
At Home.
Don’t work, don’t play
Read books,
And pray.
Some claim,
Rest day
From what you say
No work
6 days
Sleepless, always
Connect
To God
Or try
At least
For the free feast
Come back
Shabbat
You’re all
I’ve got.
Reality Check
By William James Jonas III
They kicked in your door,
And then read you some rights,
Why would you believe,
A goon with a flashlight,
With his machine gun,
Bad breath and dumb look,
Destroy and arrest,
Are the steps in their book.
A lawyer for free,
That is worth what you paid,
He works for the thugs,
It is all a charade,
You are played the fool,
And presented a deal,
Like a starving dog,
You take the poison meal,
Are you just a child?
Or a street idiot?
The deal just helped them,
You did more than forget
Grow up, stop playing,
Black face minstrel show
Your only power
Is when you tell them ‘No’
They told you to plea
It could be worse than you think
But most daddy’s girls
Live at home and wear pink.
Ranch Verse
By William James Jonas III
Since the days of the Republic*, Jonas’ family
Has been ranching in the Texas Hill Country
(West Centra Texas). From his grandad,
Parents, and uncles he learned how to
Raise sheep, goats and cows with a good
Horse and a good dog. Wishing for rain,
With fences that washed away in most any
Storm, fighting a losing battle with the
Coyote, and watching the grasses in
Each pasture for when to move stock,
Were part of being a rancher on the
Home Place or East Place. In the Hill
Country, ranching is what you did; that
Land is called a place (i.e. not a ranch).
Jonas went on to apply rancher resilience
In his life beyond the pasture. Currently
Living in the Appalachian Mountains of Gilmer
County West Virginia, Jonas plans to
Return to Kimble County, Texas to wish
For rain, repair fences, and try to
Get caught up with what needs to be
Done on the place.
*The Republic of Texas joined the United States February 1846
Pokey
By William James Jonas III
We don’t smoke marijuana in the pokey
Meds are free for us and paid by you
Sometimes things get tense and there is a lockdown
We lay in bed smokin’ that K2
That’s the life ya lead when
You’re in the pokey
No rent for our rooms and food is free
Tax man ain’t allowed here at the pokey
I’ll watch sports, you keep your liberty.
My Mom
By William James Jonas III
Our world was big when I was small
And you were with me through it all
Moving was part of Dad’s assignment
Change is life with boss man government
You gave so much I did not understand
With precious lessons on my path to
We were friends, you and me, when I was with none?
I have no greater gift than being your son.
Heartbreaks I bring you, yes, even today
The tears you have shed, I cannot repay
You have never denied me and often paid a great price
And forgave me each time I ignored your loving advice
Bright days are ahead, I know this is true
A future that is all because of you.
My Dad
By William James Jonas III
Larger than life is a cliché
Always for me, that’s you each day
Others were coach, you’re my biggest fan
Loving support, the model man
Loss of control you did not teach
I picked that up beyond your reach
But you were there, stood in the breach
Helped me heal up, and never preached
Endured the drama that has been my path
A safe place to cry, the best place to laugh
Tested, pestered, disappointed, let down
Without showing anger you still stuck around
To listen, be helpful and provide a plan
While showing the meaning of father and man
One thing is quite certain, I don’t meet your best
You gave me the goodness and forgave the rest.
Mule Wanted
By William James Jonas III
For thirty years,
I could be found,
Astride my gelding,
Riding around,
No shirt, leather chaps,
Burned skin, sweat, and dirt,
Chasin’ strays, fixin’ fences,
I never got hurt,
Then college, law school,
Army and career,
Took the reins from the ranch,
For the next thirty years,
And straight to the pain,
That comes with success,
No more chasin’ strays,
My life was a mess,
Of politics pomp,
And, of course, private planes,
But hands become cold,
When you’re without reins,
Rejecting that show,
Began a new quest,
Do you want my place?
Please do be my guest,
So, back to the ranch
Ain’t nothing to catch,
No need to ride horses,
My age will not match,
The years will be happy
There’re/There are things to up keep
Water troughs, water gaps,
For cows, goats and sheep
Still, I will ride
You can always do more
When your two legs,
Are riding on four,
For me no more horses,
It’s my old man’s rule
‘Cause back on the ranch,
I am riding a mule.
Missing Christmas
By William James Jonas III
I’m not going to see you for Christmas this year
Not news to you I’d say
The papers report all of my complications
And why I am away
At this time of peace on earth, my war rages on
To seize the victory or be a prisoned pawn
Either way it is the same, Dad is not around
You are used to it by now, how I let you down
No more glum, I love you so
And be of blessed cheer
I will find you in my dreams
Of freedom for next year.
Halloween
By William James Jonas III
Halloween was last week
Still thinking of you
Trick o’ treat ninjastyle
Your face not in view
But signature green eyes
Through slits in a mask
Assure me it was you
My first, best, and last
A decade has gone by
Costumes and you change
Halloween fun with you
In my heart remains.
In 1930, Fabulous Is Not Late
By William James Jonas III
Fabulous is not late
You’ve been told before
If you check that damn watch
I will hit the door
Looking so amazing
I do for just you
Just one way to reflect
That your love is true
Yes, I am right here
Don’t act so surprised
Who cares if I’m late?
I always arrive
The party’s a gas
Our usual crowd
As long as it’s jazz
It can’t be too loud
Since this is your party
The fun can begin
If you want to just talk
Bring me some good gin.
Eye was gonna lose
By William James Jonas III
Eye was gonna lose
That’s the story told
The victim a rapper
Eighteen years old.
Actors from Brooklyn
Fake making a point
About a rigged system
Youths in the joint.
Cry baby players
Ignore when men choose
To give in and say
Eye was gonna lose.
What made you so smart?
What advice you took?
How dumb can you be
To sing from their book.
How is it their fault
As you cry the blues
When you stop trying
You will always lose.
Calling in Sick – Buck Fever
By William James Jonas III
Ode to a West Virginia Prison Guard
Hope you get a big deer
That is what they say
Instead of good morning
Or have a nice day
The month is November
Appalachian state
Get yourself a ten point
Or you will not rate
If you’re a prison guard
Life just ain’t complete
‘Less you got a freezer
That’s full of deer meat
All felons are sleeping
The Warden’s away
It is hunting season
Boss man’s gotta play.
Birthday
By William James Jonas III
Sorry I missed your birthday
My best excuse so far
Not quite dead
In the Fed
No idea where you are
Only have your phone number
No way that I’ll call
‘Cause you’ll pick up
And with my luck
Another bill I won’t pay, that’s all
Still, this is your Happy Birthday
You can save it for next year
By that time
Things will be fine
Celebrating for you up here.
Back ridin’ soon
By William James Jonas III
Knocked off again
That’s no surprise
I play to win
That means survive
Arenas I pick
The bull a guess
It takes just one
For great success
In my years ridin’ hard
Not much happens quick
Falling’s part of the climb
And then that big pick
Will give the ride
That will change your career
You’re now the best
The one that the bulls fear
I’ll get there some day
That time will come
The right rodeo
On the right one
Takes me from good
To great in one ride
Fame will find me
Time is on my side
But first I must learn how to walk again
Last night’s ride was tough, I need time to mend
Make no mistake, you will see me in lights
Thanks for stopping by, tell my nurse goodnight.
Advent
By William James Jonas III
A holiday created of pagan sequence
Covered with colored lights of no consequence
Piercing this absurd costume of man
Eternal light proclaiming His plan
Of Life and Joy and eternal bliss
God as a child betrayed with a kiss
A salvation path brings peace on earth
We honor the gift of Jesus’ birth.
13,000 Bucks
By William James Jonas III
Hunting season’s first day, West Virginia’s rep
Thirteen thousand bucks killed, Mountaineer’s beloved
Just imagine pre-dawn
At each male deer house
An early corn breakfast
With children and spouse
Then daylight came calling
Dad kissed mother and daughter
Walked out in the open
And then promptly got slaughtered
On that Appalachian day
It was not a crime
‘though it happened so they say
Thirteen thousand times
Others may not like my bleeding-heart tale
Describing buck deer like a human male
Is it easier
To just blindly accept
Statistics that make
One day’s hunting correct
How in this small state, on one single day
So many horned deer, were ready to slay
That is why I suggest
As a very wise geezer
Many a first day buck
Greeted morn from the freezer.
Pushing II
In his thirty-year practice of law, specializing in government affairs, clients included one of the worlds largest private prison companies, various municipalities, as well as numerous public and private sector interests connect with the prison building boom in the United States that began in the late 1980’s. He also served as a City Manager and City Attorney where he hired and fired police chiefs and coordinated inter-local law enforcement operations. Jonas was active in local, state, and national political campaigns from 1976 to 2016.
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client in the know
February 4, 2020 at 2:08 pmHi James,
I hope you are well. Perhaps you remember me from our days at A&H. I know things have changed for you, and I am so sorry to read all that. I read your poems, and I see sadness in your thoughts. I am hopeful better times are coming your way. Stay strong James.
Regards,
Tim Kindelan