Juan Quentin C. Ward

Juan Quentin C. Ward # 275760; RCI, RAcine Correctional Institution; POO Box 900; Racione, Wi 53177

Age 42, Very Intelligent handsome Black Scorpio Male in search of easygoing and open-minded friends. I am open, honest, truthful, caring, and romantic and enjoy sharing intriguing conversation. I have, been incarcerated since 1994, with a 2012 Mandatory Release date, although I do see the Parole Board 2007. I write books and poetry as a way of escaping the monotony and loneliness that prison brings. If you're tired of games and lies, then reach out and write.

3 Poems

She's a fine Community
A City...A State
With the Mardi Gras
And everything great.

The Out Cry of Katrina
Was heard from Earth to Heaven
Though Nature has put its best foot forward
To bring the great New Orleans, to her Knees
As the News reporters called its' citizens refugees
Misspoken words callously spoken.

The poor left dying with misery
Homeland Security and FEMA'S Michael Brown
Shaking hands with President Bush with the face of a Clown.

A Nation at war could not have been pleased...
To witness one of its own cities down on its knees
United and agape Love began to flow
As other States citizens reached into their pockets
forking over dough.

Racial, Religious and Economical Lines crossed...
To create a band-aid for the visual eye sore.

Many displaced and will never return home
Guess for New Orleans poor, "it's just the same ole song!

When I lay in bed and think of you
What it would be like to hold you
Talk to you
To listen to you
I look out my door and I think of you
How it would feel to sit by the fire with you
Touch you
To smell you
I sit down at a meal and I think of you
How it would feel to sit across from you
Feed you
Taste you
I fall asleep thinking of you
How it would be to make all my dreams come true
With you
Share all my fantasies
To share my fears with you
For some unknown reason it has always been

Self-destructive attitudes
plaguing our communities and lives
rejecting God in the name of sin
often wondering where did it all begin.

Here we go...Here we go again,
But we have no Moses to be our friend
leading us out of slavery and the disease within.

Fear of truth, only to glamourize lies
as our kids, our women, our brothers continue to die.

Spirituality where has it gone
Why are we singing the same ole song?

Remaining in bondage and slavery
enslaved to lies and immoral thoughts
so sick with disease its kind of hard to walk.

Refusing to let go and allow God to command continuing to try to be our own man.

Objects of desire is it a weakness
no sense of humbleness not a glimpse of meekness.

Disease of the mind, disease of the heart
forgetting God and all that he gave
is this really the land of the brave?

Bombs in foreign countries that singe the air
here in America we truly don't care.

Death and decay is being left behind
why aren't we on cur knees prostrating and crying?

To big for God this we don't wanna hear
like Israel who refused to see clear
til the wrath of God was at last shown
did the people seek to atone.

Products Of: Juan Quentin C. Ward

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