

I have come to the conclusion that any kind of writing in lockdown is difficult. Our focus has been challenged to say the least, and the work we have managed to produce has a depth that meets the crisis. Perhaps? It has been noted in the worldwide writing community that writers have been able to read more and have clung to literature and art in lockdown more than their own ongoing work. It is too early to express individual response to the pandemic which has provided the impetus to go back to reading: war poetry, holocaust literature, dystopian literature, fantasy fiction, epic and gothic. Literature as immediate escape has become a feature of lockdown.
Prison Arts Foundation (PAF), like many organisations, have had to adapt in order to continue delivering arts based activities that provide a lifeline for prisoners’ well-being, both physical and mental. Having worked in the arts for thirty years it is a testimony to PAF’s commitment that they continue to support their artists at a time when many organisations are struggling. We have been able to deliver programmes via Zoom, emailing weekly resources, provide writing and arts materials, as well as ongoing community based support.
There has been adversity but also moments of unprecedented generosity. At PAF, we have been astounded by the contact and support from the American poet and writer, Jimmy Santiago Baca. The details of which can be read in our first article. We have an up-date on the poetry from our writers and the included participation in this year’s John Hewitt Festival. The writers group won 8 prizes at Listowel and 25 Koestler Arts Awards. The full details are contained in this edition. We have an article on Brian Keenan’s visit to Magilligan last year, and our regular content includes the poetry pages and the PAF activities updates.
I want to give special mention to Alison McCaughan, a much valued teacher and colleague who retired in July. Alison began working in Magilliagn in 1992. My first class in Magilligan was actively supported by Alison. I recall walking across the yard one day with a student who said, ‘do you know her.’ He pointed toward Alison. I said, ‘yes’. He explained it was her day off but she had come in to work because he had an Open University deadline. She was there to ensure
his assignment was submitted on time. This was a fundamental of Alison’s personality, her generosity, kindness and putting the needs of others before herself.
I want to thank Governor Richard Taylor for his ongoing support. Prison Arts Foundation for their patience and tenacity. Believe me, we were really disappointed when we missed our summer edition of Time In. This served to make us go the extra mile and have a Winter edition available. SO Kristie McDonald was vital in facilitating the creation of the content and the artwork. Thanks to Pauline for a list longer than there is paper or ink available, the art teacher Jayne for advice and support, Cahir for layout and design advice. And all those who generously made a contribution, Fred Caulfield, Adele Campbell, Paddy Nash, Lucy Turner and of course all of the prisoners in the writing group in Magilligan.
I want to conclude by expressing condolences to everyone who has lost family and friends to COVID-19. All of us acknowledge that restrictions have made mourning the loss of loved ones a very isolated experience. We have all been affected, directly and indirectly. We continue to face daily challenges.
None of us know what the days, weeks and months ahead have in store. There is a sense that a new meditation is the reality, globally. Adapting to these times of heightened reflection has become a time of self-assessment for all of us. It is an established fact that literature, art, and music are perfect parallels to our experiences, providing a deeper understanding of our needs and those of our neighbours.
Pamela Mary Brown
Brian
Magilligan:
Letter to Fred Caulfield, Executive Director of Prison Arts Foundation (PAF) and reprinted here with the kind permission of William Redpath.
Fred
As you know I have decided to retire from the Civil Service and my role in Resettlement Branch. Since taking up that role nearly 4 years ago I have seen the work that Prison Arts Foundation do with those in the care of the Prison Service. I have heard from people who have changed their own lives by grasp-
ing opportunities that the arts can offer. I have also been privileged to appreciate the work done by those taking part in the creative writing classes and was deeply impressed by the recent collaboration with the John Hewitt Society. I am sure this brought the words of those in prison to completely new audience, which I am sure can only be a positive thing. I look forward to hearing more in the future. William.
All at Prison Arts Foundation and the writers group wish William a long and happy retirement. We are grateful for his support and kind words of encouragement..
How do you write an article about Jimmy Santiago Baca when it isn’t necessarily your intention? You are preparing creative writing resources during lockdown, trying to keep connections with your students, trying to inspire and encourage them. So, you decide to send in some poems by Jimmy Santiago Baca. His poems never fail to connect with prisoners. His poetry is honest, revealing, insightful and understands the prisoner-experience not just while enduring prison but the aftermath, the whole gamut. Then you think, what if you could thank Jimmy? What if I could say ‘thank you’ to him for the years that you have quoted his work? For all the times his poetry and life story inspired prisoners in Magilligan. Your intention is not to write an article, you intention is to say thank you.
So here is what happened after I sent him an email. You say thank you to Jimmy Santiago Baca for his story, for his poems, for the work he does with prisoners through his Cedar Tree Inc, and you don’t expect a reply. It’s Jimmy Santiago Baca after all. He’s a prolific writer, activist, and so much more and he is overwhelmingly busy with all of this work.
And then, you not only get a reply but he offers to work with your students. To do a Zoom or what-
ever you can recommend as to how he can help out. I immediately think of Time In. Jimmy speaking directly to the readers. To prisoners in Magilligan, Hydebank Wood, and Maghaberry. I could include the bio note from Jimmy’s award winning memoir A Place to Stand. ‘Born in Santa Fe, New Mexico. He has written several books of poetry and a number of screenplays. His awards include the National Endowment of Poetry Award, Vogelstein Foundation Award, National Hispanic Heritage Award, Berkeley Regents Award, Pushcart Prize, Southwest Book Award, and American Book Award. I could tell you to check out the award winning documentary by the same name on Amazon Prime.
I can add that Jimmy Santiago Baca while serving a five-year sentence in Arizona State Penitentiary in the 1970s learned to read and write and later emerged as one of the most gifted and genuine voices of poetry and the written word. I could tell you all this and more…but it is time to let Jimmy speak. We gave him ten questions relating to how he would conduct a writing workshop in a prison. Jimmy hopes to travel here someday (yes, this is accurate) to meet the writers in Magilligan. This in itself would induce anyone to pick up a pen and write… and as Paddy Nash happily tuned in, ‘Jimmy is the real deal.’ >>PMB
1. Jimmy Santiago Baca, you’ve entered a workshop-room in a prison where the prisoners don’t know a lot about you or your work, and they haven’t engaged with creativity before. How would you begin the workshop?
‘I'm not much on protocol, especially with cons they pack more experience in a word than most academic writers do in a hundred pages. No, these guys and gals walk the main nerve of life, highwire it end to end, from sorrow to joy that’s they live, have lived, will live . So I'm not talking to writers or poets, let the writers and poets go elsewhere, pay for those expensive writing workshops who I'm talking to and sharing with, are human beings with a story to tell, a poem to share in their hearts. Stories and poems will always come from the heart and show us our flawed aspects, our beautiful aspirations, and where we found ourselves, less than what we wanted to believe. Stories and poems do not need credentials. Just lived experience, heart-creed plus a dash of street creed. And every single one of us have a story to tell, how we got here, what the journey was like stuff you couldn’t imagine or pay enough money to have.’
2. & 3. How would you respond to a prisoner who says that writing doesn’t impact on their lives? What kind of writing task would you set for someone who has never written before?
‘No point huh, well, to that individual I'd say: stand before a mirror and look at yourself. It took a hundred generations to make you, to give you the soul, heart, breath and sight to stand and see yourself right now. You think all that sweat and blood and laughter and calluses and hardship was for nothing? You stand here and tell me you have no respect for their struggle, is that really what you're saying? You gotta check yourself. They gave so you could live to share your story of fighting for justice, of love, of loneliness, and then take that and hand your story down to the next generation so they know who built the country,
what hands touched those stones that enabled us to have schools...yes, I'd say your story is quite important. Unless, like a coward, you want to give it to others to write and call it their own it is not; it belongs to you my sister and brother, it is your story. No one can sing it like you, no one. Give the gift to your children, your family, let them know what you mean, who you are, how much love you really have to give...’
4. What kind of writing task would you set for someone who has never written before?
‘Writing is the only to make you a known man, especially while the world tries to erase your history, change your identity and screw it up this thing called your life. Writing allows you to take the power back and tell the world, nay, share with the world who you are, make yourself known to all, with pride and love and compassion...’
5. How would you respond to a prisoner who says that writing doesn’t impact on their lives?
‘I’d have the person write a letter to his most loved person in the world, start with writing letters...’
6. What kind of writing task would you set for a more accomplished writer?
‘More accomplished writer? Have to go with having them write from the bad side of their brains, the good side of their brains, see how the shadows and light play off each other here’s an interesting exercise: imagine you’re standing in front of a mirror and you have a pistol to your head and I ask you to go ahead and kill of the bad part of you without harming the good apart of you keep what’s good, get rid of what’s bad how would you do that? Can’t. So write about the two, not just the good but include the bad, not just the bad, include the good...that’s how the narrative of life is written in our days...’
7. What would you say to a prisoner who says that the arts have no place in a prison?
‘Prison is the incubation chamber for the birthing of poetry. It’s the only place on earth that allows fools like me and you to stop long enough to think and feel and see what we’ve done with our lives, our loves, our kids and wives and friends...and then to reflect on that through writing deepens our character and we all know we need more character....I do, hell, used to be in the past the first pretty skirt sashayed past me had me in hot pursuit, drugs same thing, booze, yup that off too, I was a sucker for the good-feeling life, needed character and writing gave me that...put me in my place...’
8. How do you develop the creative mind in order to feedback figurative language into your work?
‘Not sure I understand, but would say in this muffler of not quite knowing clear enough that if you sit and read and write long enough, your writing will get what it needs to get in it...’
9. What advice would you give in terms of editing work?
‘Edit repetitions but not your voice, don’t rely that much on what others say, instead, work on saying what you need to say as strong and clear as you can....don’t listen to status-quo gibberish monkey chattering away, listen to your heart and write how it talks and thinks....but read read read.’
10. What creative writing exercise do you find the most productive in a workshop setting?
‘Write something to your child about something which is about you that they don’t know that would strengthen your relationship with them and make you a more honest person....’
BY JIMMY SANTIAGO BACA
They turn the water off, so I live without water, they build walls higher, so I live without treetops, they paint the windows black, so I live without sunshine, they lock my cage, so I live without going anywhere, they take each last tear I have, I live without tears, they take my heart and rip it open, I live without heart, they take my life and crush it, so I live without a future, they say I am beastly and fiendish, so I have no friends, they stop up each hope, so I have no passage out of hell, they give me pain, so I live with pain, they give me hate, so I live with my hate, they have changed me, and I am not the same man, they give me no shower, so I live with my smell, they separate me from my brothers, so I live without brothers,
who understands me when I say this is beautiful? who understands me when I say I have found other freedoms?
I cannot fly or make something appear in my hand, I cannot make the heavens open or the earth tremble, I can live with myself, and I am amazed at myself, my love, my beauty,
I am taken by my failures, astounded by my fears, I am stubborn and childish, in the midst of this wreckage of life they incurred, I practice being myself, and I have found parts of myself never dreamed of by me, they were goaded out from under rocks in my heart when the walls were built higher, when the water was turned off and the windows painted black.
I followed these signs like an old tracker and followed the tracks deep into myself, followed the blood-spotted path, deeper into dangerous regions, and found so many parts of myself,
who taught me water is not everything, and gave me new eyes to see through walls, and when they spoke, sunlight came out of their mouths, and I was laughing at me with them, we laughed like children and made pacts to always be loyal, who understands me when I say this is beautiful?
Jimmy Santiago Baca, “Who Understands Me but Me” from Immigrants in Our Own Land and Selected Early Poems. Copyright © 1990 by Jimmy Santiago Baca.
The inclusion of poems from the Creative Writing group based at HMP Magilligan during the John Hewitt Summer festival has many positives. Especially in a time when ‘lockdown’ makes every task much more challenging. Initially, there was the selection of the poems, deciding on readers, rehearsing the lines, and with help and support ensuring the recordings were achieved. All this is a team effort, and one which is unique and strongly reflects the support given to prison writers by Prison Arts Foundation and all the staff at Magilligan.
The prison writers at Magilligan come from different backgrounds and life experiences. Abilities’ range from those who are extremely well read to those who can’t read and are self-taught. Nevertheless, all prisoners bring their stories and a willingness to trust the creative process, to self-reflect and ‘to give it a go’. Often the insights emerge through difficult issues such as addiction, and this can be overwhelming. The group share their work on the landings and encourage new members. There is always a waiting list for the classes and a very high attendance. We write poems, flash fiction, short stories, memoirs, novels, plays, film scripts, and articles for Time In magazine, a PAF sponsored project.
Creative writing provides a key to unlocking ideas, unlocking insular thinking, and unlocking potential. We share the work and peer critique each student, while maintaining respectful spaces with their fellow writers. The arts have high significance in prison because there are possibilities of expression for the prisoner, for their version of literature, and definitively for rehabilitation because art creates a parallel world in which to view the actual world. Rather than the reductive concept of locking someone up, creativity unlocks interior aspects of personality.
Supporting the arts in prison provides a vitally important role in the lives of prisoners: how they reevaluate themselves; how they stay connected with their families, their wives, their mothers, their children; and with the survival of these relationships under duress. Overcoming extreme personal situations, resolving inner conflicts, ‘writing the self’ and bringing the self to inner harmony are among the mysteries of creative writing, music, and art.
I would like to conclude by including a poem that demonstrates what I see every day during my work as Creative Writing Teacher in prison. The writing doesn’t have to be about something earth shattering, it doesn’t have to be about an over towering outcome but it is a way of getting though hour by hour, day by day, reaching out through a simple act of creativity, a few lines that connect one human being to another.
Behind the walls and wire fences, the locks and razor wire a young man walks to writing class and his youthful heart on fire
He’s learned to write good poetry and he has a girl at home and his love flows through the keyboard as he writes his girl a poem
He wrote it in his cell last night while listening to their song true love is in the words he writes he says it won’t be long until the gates are opened wide and he wants her to be there a smile upon her loving lips and sunlight in her hair
In all the grey and loneliness where every man’s alone the young man walks to writing class and writes his love a poem. >>GS
'Listowel Writers in Prison' is a regular event in the writers calendar in HMP Magilligan. The 50th Listowel Writer’s Week Literary Festival was cancelled earlier this year, due to COVID-19, however Tom Shortt Arts Officer for the Irish Prison Service said, ‘despite having to cancel their programme of events - they managed to preserve all their competitions this year.’
Listowel is considered Ireland’s foremost festival promoting creativity through a combination of celebration and workshops HMP Magilligan writers have continued to do well in the competitions, and building on previous years’ successes, Magilligan writers gained a total of 8 awards in 2020. In the Short Story Getting Started category writers won 1st , 2nd and 3rd prize. 3rd prize in Short Story Intermediate, 3rd prize in the Short Story Advanced category while in the poetry categories a further three prizes were won: 1st prize Poetry Getting Started, 2nd prize Poetry Intermediate and 2nd Prize Poetry Advanced. Congratulating the Listowel award winners, Magilligan Prison Governor Richard Taylor said: “I am delighted Magilligan writers have been able to build on previous years’ successes in the Listowel Writers competition. We challenge and support all those in our care to change, and the creative writing workshops have been popular with many prisoners. Their commitment and enthusiasm is deservedly reflected in the most recent awards. By raising self-esteem and improving mental health these workshops are undoubtedly playing an important part in rehabilitation. I would also like to thank our Writer-inResidence, Pamela Brown, from the Prison Arts Foundation, and North West Regional College, for their continuing support and valuable partnership with Magilligan Prison.”
Stories and poetry, narratives and content ranged in theme from PTSD, leaning to read, hometown memories, and a poetic reflection on ‘Time’. The writers’ group have consistently performed well, and since 2019 the Northern Ireland Prison Service (NIPS) has contributed to the prize fund. Participants in workshops within HMP Magilligan engage
with creative writing through the Prison Arts Foundation (PAF) and the North West Regional College (NWRC) accreditations, and are supported by NIPS. Pamela Brown, Writer-in-Residence at HMP Magilligan, said “this truly is a testimony to the ongoing support from PAF and NWRC. Both organisations assist in encouraging personal and social change, as well as educating prisoners as part of the rehabilitation process, and their support cannot be underestimated. The yearly Listowel Awards endorse the hard work, focus, and has inspired the writers who attend the workshops.” >>PMB
Poetry Intermediate 2nd Prize
MY HOME TOWN
Wee streets with cobbles
So dark and so grey
Street lamps all busted
From riots an’ affray
Oul dolls with trolleys
Are rushed of their feet
Searching for bargains
To make tight ends meet
A big pot of stew
On a wet winters night
Slopped into big bowls
For families just right
The heel of a loaf
To soak up the juice
Pass me the HP
A dinner time truce
Who’s up for seconds?
My wee ma would shout
Get back in line son
And she’d give me a clout
The olde days in Belfast
I remember so well
The riots and the Troubles
We were dragged up through hell
We grew up with nothing
No materialistic things
But in Belfast in them days
We did live like kings. >> LK
Jimwoke up at 3 o clock on the dot. He had been doing this every night for a month, he would wake up out of a deep sleep, jumping out of his bed, screaming and shouting, thinking he was being attacked. He had gone to his doctor telling him of the night terrors he was having, he was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder and he had been prescribed Zoplicone to help him with his sleep and Diazepam to help with his anxiety but if anything they made his dreams even worse.
Jim turned the night lamp on so he could see what he was doing. He was shaking nervously and buckets of sweat were pouring out of him. Jim looked at the bed and then gazed down to his waist. It was only then that he noticed, he had soiled himself again. He let out a long sigh, this was the third time this week he had wet the bed. He had told his doctor about this as well, but he told him that this was only natural for people who were having nightmares. Jim pulled off his shorts and started to change his bed clothes. He had to buy extra bedding last week as this occurrence had been happening more and more often, as his dreams had gotten steadily worse.
it was like it was actually happening to him. Jim had never even been shot before, so he was wondering why he had that particular dream, this night. The levels of violence had steadily been rising in the past week from being beaten with sticks, to being stabbed, and even in one of the dreams he had been set on fire.
“They were going to beat and torment him again.”
Jim tried to remember his dream but is was quickly fading away. They had taken him down an alleyway and had started to beat him savagely. They pulled him up to his knees and pulled a gun out in front of him. They hit him over the head with the gun and told him he was going to be kneecapped. He started crying and began to beg them for flesh wounds, but the men had only laughed at him and told him he was lucky he wasn’t getting one in the head. They then held Jim down, face to the floor and put the barrel of the pistol to the backside of his left knee. BANG. He started to scream as the pain from the gun shot spread straight down his leg. It was agony. BANG. He didn’t even feel the second shot. He couldn’t believe that he even felt pain in his dreams
A car drove by outside. He raced to the window and pulled back one of the blinds just an inch and he saw a grey Ford parked across the street, beside the garden of the house directly opposite him. He had never seen this car before. What was it doing here at this hour of night? He ran towards his front door, checked the lock to make sure that it was locked in secure. When satisfied that it was he turned his attention back to the window to see what that car was up to. They had to be here for him he figured. They were going to beat and torment him again. It could be something to do with the last people that had broken into his house. He remembered that night as if it was yesterday. He was lying in bed, sound asleep, when he had heard someone moving around in the living room very quietly. He was a light sleeper, so it didn’t take much to wake him. He got out of bed to investigate what was going on. He had figured that it must have been the man in the flat facing him because when he and his wife were fighting, he usually went to sleep on the sofa in Jim’s flat. He was the only other person who had a key to the flat, so it had to be him. If only he had known the danger he was in. Jim opened the bedroom door to find two bare faced men, with woolly hats and gloves on, one rummaging through his cabinet, the other in the middle of the room putting Jim’s laptop into a grip bag. They both froze at the sight of him. At least 5 seconds passed with the three men staring at each other before Jim made the first move, running to his bedroom for safety. They were close to follow suit. He had a lock on his bedroom door that he turned before going for his phone to call the police. But the lock was no good, as the door had been opened in one single swift kick.
CONTINUED>>
Jim turned back but had gotten a good look at one of the burglars before he was stuck over the head with a crowbar. He had woken up two days later tied and gagged. They used a HDMI wire as a make-shift rope for his hands, feet and head then used toilet roll and Duct tape to gag him. It was still dark when he woke up and he hadn’t realized that the men had left two day ago, so he was still frozen in fear, too afraid to move. Jim tried to loosen the make -shift handcuffs from his wrists but they were tied too tight and he had little success. It was about an hour before he realised the robbers had gone. He tried to listen for a sign of movement but found none.
Jim started crawling towards the living room by this point but found it extremely hard, as his hands were tied behind his back. He gave up and lay there hoping that someone would come to his rescue soon. Another day would pass before his neighbour discovered him in that condition. Tied and gagged, with a deep gash across his forehead, lying there in a pool of his own urine. He could only imagine what he must have looked like. Jim’s neighbour John phoned an ambulance as soon as he had seen him in that state. After he made the call for an ambulance and police he sparked up a cigarette, before he realised that he needed to untie Jim.
‘Are you okay?’ John asked then handed him a cigarette for him to smoke.
Jim was too dazed and confused to answer. It was twenty minutes before the ambulance arrived and he was rushed to hospital. When he got there he was told he had a concussion and had to get an MRI scan to see if there was anything wrong with his brain. He had a slight bleeding in the brain but he was told it wouldn’t be life threatening but may have side-effects such as hallucinations and severe migraines. That all happened two years ago, but Jim never forgot that day. He suffered many migraines but wasn’t sure if he had hallucinations, though he was always
now that he had testified in court, put the man who had hit him with the crowbar away for nine years for aggravated burglary and grievous bodily harm with intent, only 2 months past. That’s when the nightmares started. The Forensics team had swabbed his house when he was in the hospital and found a strand of hair and saliva on one of Jim’s bottles of beer. It took nine months for them to make a match on the DNA that linked it to a man known to the police called Harry Swipes; a convicted burglar and armed robber.
The police asked Jim to come to a line up and as soon as he saw Harry, he was able to point him out as the man who hit him with the crowbar. Ever since the man had been sentenced Jim’s paranoia and anxiety had gone through the roof, because they were not able to find or convict the other man who had robbed his house. They had only gotten a laptop and an iPad, 300 pounds in cash and jewellery, worth about 700 pounds. Nine years is a long time for taking goods only worth a thousand five hundred, and Jim was sure repercussions were coming soon.
Jim stayed at the window looking out at the car for half an hour. Why were they there? What were they up to? Finally a girl walked out of the house, climbed into the car and it sped away. He hoped he was just being paranoid but he still had his doubts. He walked over to his medicine cupboard opened the drawer and pulled out his medication. He pulled out two boxes of tablets, took a strip out of each box and popped 3 Diazepam 10mgs out of one strip and 2 Zopiclone 7.5mgs out of the other. He put the kettle on and put a tea bag into a cup with 2 spoons of sugar as well. He added a drop of semi-skimmed milk in as the kettle came to a boil. He poured the water in, popped the pills into his mouth and took a long deep swig. He went to the bathroom to clean himself up. He put on a new pair of shorts and jumped back into his bed with the fresh sheets on. He waited for the pills to take their effect and slowly drifted back into
I’venever really been lonely. Bored yes, but lonely no. In fact I’ve always enjoyed the pleasure of my own company. While I’m not exactly unsociable, there are times when I’d prefer to be alone. I seem to be a loner by nature and consequently never ever get lonely. Most backpackers are lone wolves, and I’ve travelled to thirty-four countries on four continents completely by myself.
There have been times in my life when this has definitely worked to my advantage. Like when I spent a few months in prison, some years back. If I was in a single cell and had no cellmate to talk to I found this was something that I actually welcomed rather than dreaded. It was more preferable for me to sit on my own and read or write than to have to listen to someone tell me how he intended to get rich once he was released.
Another advantage of being a loner is when you’re forced to cocoon in your own flat because of the COVID-19 pandemic. People who are elderly or have serious underlying health conditions (or both) have had to totally isolate themselves from the world. This isn’t the same 14 day self-isolation that the government recommend for anyone feeling ill or displaying symptoms. Oh no! We’re talking about being locked up 24 hours a day, week after week, for months on end, because doctors know that if vulnerable people get the virus, they won ’t survive.
where I normally went to break the monotony of everyday life alone. I’ve spent months on lockdown in my own flat. Cocooning, they call it, apparently. Twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. That’s not cocooning! It feel more like imprisonment and torture. I don’t even get an hour exercise in ‘the yard’ each day. Over the last few months I’ve hardly been outside my flat more than a handful of times. And even for a bus to a supermarket or pharmacy or to drop of my laundry at the Washateria
Sometimes volunteers shop for me which is great but I like to get out for an hour once in a while to break the boredom. Always wearing gloves and a mask of course. Occasionally, I’ll stick a few beers into my shopping trolley, but not often. Then home to the flat in a taxi because I can’t carry the weight of my own shopping.
How much more can I actually live like this? Ok, so I enjoy my own company and I never feel lonely. And even when there was no lockdown I didn’t venture out much because I can’t walk far. But at least I had a choice. At least if I wanted to stroll around the carpark, for a lap or two, I could. Or as far as the bus stop and have a little spin around the city with my free-travel disability pass. A change of scenery and a breathe of fresh air. Now I’m completed imprisoned in my own home.
I’ve severe respiratory disease, COPD. I’m virtually guaranteed to die because my lungs are already ruined and all the steroids I’ve taken over the years to fight the disease’s progression has destroyed my immune system. So I have no resource to fight the virus. Therefore, I spent the first two months of this year only going out for a few quiet pints, a newspaper, and a small bet on the gee-gees once a week. I’d grab a bit of food from the shops and do my laundry while I was at it. Now I can’t even do that and because of the pandemic, all the pubs and betting shops are shut. As are the libraries and internet cafes
There’s always the television of course. I’ve only a few stations and there is never anything on except the news and weather. The news is overwhelmingly about COVID-19, and the weather’s irrelevant because I can’t go out. And there’s my laptop too. At least I can write. I’ve also got a phone to keep in contact with the outside world. Trouble is, I’ve spent a small fortune in the last few months on hold by various agencies…looking for test results. At least I’m negative for COVID-19, I’ve been tested twice. On Mayday a local charity helped arrange piped music and strawberries and ice-cream on our estate. This was intended to cheer us the old folk who’ve been cocooning for many weeks. The Family Resource workers put up ticker tape, blasted Dame Vera Lynn singing ‘We’ll Meet Again’ and they sang and danced while the cocooning pensioners looked out of their windows. It rained from the high heavens! Then the hailstones started. Undeterred, the volunteers kept the music and singing at full volume. They are truly heroic and made of the right stuff but sometimes it seems as if the Gods themselves are conspiring against us. It was absolutely heartbreaking and I was almost in tears. >>HONEST
JIM
The creative writing group, supported by Prison Arts Foundation (PAF), based at HMP Magilligan have gained a reputation for achievement in writing competitions such as Listowel Writers Week and Koestler Arts Awards.
In order to support prisoners during the lockdown period Governor Richard Taylor supported the first ever ‘In-House’ creative writing competition at Magilligan. Senior Officer Kristie McDonald coordinated the project with PAF’s Writer-inResidence Pamela Brown. The theme of ‘Lockdown’ was agreed and prisoners were asked to submit both poems and short stories.
Executive Director of PAF, Fred Caulfield, said, ‘this has given constructive support to prisoners during this extensive lock down period, and it may be possible to continue to have the competition on a regular basis.’
Governor Dowds, Head of Purposeful Activity & Resettlement, added, ‘this was a very proactive piece of work that provided a distraction and much needed activity for those in our care during the coronavirus pandemic and made best use of the new virtual technology.’
Speaking about the standard of work submitted Pamela said, ‘the theme of isolation was of course at the forefront of many of the poems, and really demonstrated the importance of a platform for creative expression.’
Certificates were issued to the winners by Governor Gareth Murphy encouraged by the fact that ‘the competition also received entries from prisoners who hadn’t previously been engaged with the creative writing classes.’ £20 first prize, £15 second prize and £10 third prize will be added to the Inmates Personal Cash (IPC) accounts
1st Prize Poetry
Changing with the Seasons
Sometimes I feel like a leaf floating through the dull cold sky searching for something to live for or to find a reason to die
Sometimes I get lost in the storm wondering why I feel so alone hoping the storm will calm a light breeze to carry me home
Sometimes I feel like a snowflake lost deep within the snow perfect to hide imperfections a place where no one will go
Sometimes I feel like the sunshine the rays that come from above it’s the greatest of all feelings because I know the feeling is love. >>JMcC
Isn’t it ironic what can inspire us their decision to solitary confine us from the fear of death that happened last century an instant pandemic, we now fight in 2020 life’s a circle it always comes around to our destination the fear and isolation unity and inspiration we found it came from the government’s persistence for all of us to socially distance who knew something so small invisible to the eye could define us unknown, like this poem it was plain and simply a virus. >>GL
Missed
‘Hello’ means nothing ‘goodbye’ less it’s not real you see appearing through the plastic box within which my family are encased, entombed trapped like me sensation lost all feelings void a hug, a kiss so desperately missed. >>MMcG
It’s the loneliness that gets me I suppose though I’m surrounded by masses of people. I only feel alone without my loved ones near. For over four years the world has ceased to exist. I wonder how others are coping with self-isolation? The mundane feeling of rising each day without purpose, and a sense that you are no longer in control of anything in your life. The boredom of watching a clock hand that moves as if laden with a great weight, attempting to stop it completely. Days in solitude are long. Having no say in decisions related to my everyday life leaves me exhausted, with a broken spirit and my
mind fatigued. This nothingness surrounds each day. Like a bee spending hours gathering wood sap and carrying it to the hive, only to remain unused. I crave for the day when I can gather honey, with a pride now long lost. To take my place among my family. To remove some of the burden from their shoulders. The burden I placed there. Without them, I lack motivation, I wander aimless, in never ending circles. I stand within a cage of my own making; displeased, dejected, depressed. From the barred windows I see a tarmacked lawn that runs until it meets a high reaching rock face of concrete walls, topped with vines of razor wire. It is dull, colourless and devoid of life. There is nothing to inspire me, to bring hope or lift my spirits.
And now you, and the rest of humanity, are forced to share my loneliness, my sadness and feelings of worthlessness. Will you, like me, step to the edge of insanity, yet have the strength to hang on until you are saved? Once released, will you start afresh and enjoy the freedom we have all taken for granted? Can we, the human race, now with a new beginning, recognise and value what we have missed so dearly, for so long.
In moments of solitude, my mind returns to the past. The present is too painful, my past is treasured, the future an obsession. The love of my life, my wife, our first kiss and the feeling of euphoria held inside for so long. The sadness of breaking up, the relief of making up, our wedding, our first house, our children. The power of love, the sheer magic of watching the children crawl, then walk before they could run, their tiny legs carrying them. The power granted to me, a giant to them. I could cure the nettle sting and the grazed knee with a single kiss to the wound, holding them in my arms, until they forgot. The warmth of our embrace and their arms out-stretched as they would fly passed me like a bird.
They grew from short trousers, to long trousers. I was the sage, dispensing knowledge, wisdom and guidance on all things that affected them. They transformed me: a fool into someone who was needed, a hero in his own right.
Years later I was rewarded with further cute, defenseless babes calling me ‘Ganda’. These children are non-judgmental of all my mistakes, and laugh loudly at the old wrinkled creature I have become. Their laughter is infectious, such a pleasant sound to hear.
There is truly a wonderful life waiting for us all when our shared incarceration is finished. All we have to do is prioritise what we need, and put to the side what we want. We have all we need around us if we stop focusing on greed, indifference and selfishness. Am I alone? >>MMcG
‘When artists give form to revelation, their art can advance, deepen and potentially transform the consciousness of their community.’ ~ Alex Grey ( artist, author, teacher, and Vajrayana practitioner)
Whydoes art belong in a prison setting? What impact does Prison Arts Foundation (PAF) and their Residency Programme have on the lives of prisoners? How does art facilitate behavioural change and lend itself to rehabilitation? These are some of the questions raised in PAFs’ recent quantitative evaluation ‘The Impact of the Prison Arts Foundation Artist in Residence Programme on Inmates, Attitudes, and Behaviour’. PAF supported by the Northern Prison Service (NIPS) have championed Artist-in-Resident positions in Northern Ireland prisons since its foundation in 1996. PAFs ethos is ‘to create, both individually and in partnership, access to the arts for all prisoners, exprisoners, young offenders, and ex-young offenders in Northern Ireland.’ For almost 25 years, PAF have worked passionately to deliver arts programmes as transformative. The late Mike Maloney, PAFs first Development Officer, qualified this powerfully: ‘Art is a medium for change, prison is just a venue.’
Positive activities that deal with issues pertaining to self-esteem, behavioural, and safer custody issues fall into a number of categories and should contribute to:
between prisoners and others offering prisoners the opportunity to make constructive use of their time development of interpersonal skills, e.g. communication skills
the prisoner’s physical, mental and emotional well-being pro-social behaviour maintenance and rebuilding of family ties
Activities offered by PAF include visual arts, ceramics, music, woodcraft, poetry and writing workshops, which are offered in HMP Magilligan, HMP Maghaberry, Hydebank Wood College and Women’s prison. A total of 79 prisoners, from three male prisons, and one female prison participated in the study. Arising from the study were issues such as the need for prisoners to share their work. Two thirds of those taking part said this was a ‘very important’ aspect of engaging with the arts. 64% submitted work to Koestler Arts Trust and Listowel Writers in Prison, as well as Prison Reform Trust. Those who didn’t share work said they intended to when submissions reopen. 67% of prisoners expressed the need to ‘take part’ in activities that gave them the opportunity to gain feedback and ‘to get my work seen’. Other responses related to creating art for family. 86% had been supported to exhibit their work through PAF exhibitions.
An outcome for 66% was the fact that they got on better with other inmates, and almost half said they got on better with prison staff.
Many said they had ‘fewer disciplinary issues’ and believed their relationships were improved with family members Over half those taking part said they hadn’t got involved in arts activities prior to engagement with PAF.
When asked what they would like to achieve through the art classes, 77% wanted to be ‘open to new ideas’ as well as learning new skills. Many prisoners stated that they regarded participation in art to require, ‘hard-work, self-discipline, self-confidence, determination and talent’. 90% of those who took part ‘enjoyed’ the arts classes and wanted to take additional classes.
It became apparent during the study that the arts create a ‘stepping stone’ to further learning.
62% said they were now currently engaging with other forms of training and vocational education. Gaining confidence from engaging with the arts was also a very significant factor.
them stay creative once they are back in the community.
One inmate added that: “PAF has made my time in prison more productive. I feel that anyone who could continue anything as positive as what the foundation offer will have a better chance of becoming and remaining a valuable member of any community.” Other comments included: “It could be used to keep the mind preoccupied and influence how your creative skills evolve whilst continuing to utilise the scheme. It also helps us (prisoners) to establish ourselves within the creative/exhibitions community, instead of being linked to our offending pasts.”
“ PAF has made my time in prison more productive. ”
Prisoners were further asked about how the residency programme could be improved: 65% said it would be useful to stay in touch with PAF after they were released. 64% said it would be easy to continue being creative. 26% said it would be hard to continue in arts practice; while 40% said it wouldn’t. 61% said it would be good to talk to other people about their creativity. Some challenges were highlighted in terms of 41% of prisoners who felt it would be expensive to go to an art exhibition or present live performance(s). 45% said it would be difficult to source affordable art materials. A number of prisoners said it would be uncomfortable to stay involved with PAF because of its association with prisons, whilst 31% said it wouldn’t.
Participation in the study was voluntary and the outcomes in keeping with research, demonstrating that prison arts programmes have significant benefits and positive outcomes for prisoners, their families, the prison environment and society.
The importance of prison arts education can be understood through attitudinal and behavioural changes in inmates. Inmate-artists discover new things about themselves and the world through the creative process. Multi-disciplinary studies show that children and adolescents are much more likely to do better in other disciplines if the arts are an integral part of their curriculum. This relationship is strongest among those from disadvantaged homes, and for those who may have had unhappy educational experiences in their earlier life. This profile fits many inmates. There is compelling evidence that art educators can play an important role to inspire inmates and guide creativity, growth, and understanding. They are often the first positive role models for imprisoned men and women, especially in an educational context.
76 out of the 79 inmates said they wished to continue being creative once they are back in the community and 77% said PAF could have a role in helping
As PAF approach 25 years of delivering arts in prisons, this survey demonstrates the key role Prisons Arts Foundation provides, not only to the prisoner and our wider community, but the vital role that the arts have in
‘Captivity had re-created freedom for us.’ Brian Keenan AnEvilCradling
meet and greet them all.
When our creative writing teacher told us that Brian Keenan was visiting the prison to speak to us it took me a minute or two rewinding through the murky archives of my mind… Brian Keenan…Brian Keenan… and although I was only a child when Brian was taken hostage in Beirut, I recalled his ordeal and an image of his pale and haggard face on the television flashed in my mind.
‘Here, Glen, take this book and have a read at it’ our teacher said as she handed me a softback copy. I looked at the title ‘An Evil Cradling’ I read the book in a prison cell. The green, steel door slammed behind me at six thirty and I threw myself on the bed and opened the book that was to change a part of me forever.
Days later, I felt compelled to compose a poem for this man; a homage to his honesty, vulnerability, his unbending Belfast bravery.
The day of Mr Keenan’s visit arrived. I half expected the younger Brian to come strutting through the prison visiting room. I hadn’t considered the years that had passed since his release. He had aged. He wore a suit and sat at the table next to ours with an overcoat draped across his lap. His legs were crossed and his shoes were immaculate. Some of the prison guards flitted by and nodded at him. Governors stopped to shake his hand and engage in casual chit-chat. Mr Keenan seemed relaxed and content to
And then I noticed his eyes. (The mirror to the soul) I’d seen these eyes before; on the prison wings, in old friends, in the mirror…
Before Mr Keenan went to the microphone to speak to us, our creative writing teacher, Pamela read out the poem I had written for him just days after reading his book. I watched his face, his body language, his eyes… and then the man’s soul was there for the entire visiting room to see; tears welled as he absorbed the words of the poem. The look of fragility I’d noticed earlier faded and was replaced by that Belfast grit that saw him through five years of hell. He shook his head, stood up and straightened his suit trousers and walked towards the microphone at the top of the room to speak to us.
For me, all sound except the sound of his voice ceased; the whispers of prisoners to their loved ones, the whir of the fluorescent lights above, the opening and closing of doors as security officers flitted in and out of the room scanning for wrong-doings. The light straining through the windows became obsolete and even my wife and my Mother sat next to me weren’t there anymore.
My eyesight’s not great, but I could see the man’s body language, the look in his eyes. My breathing became ragged like his breathing through the microphone. I could almost hear the palpitations of Brian’s heart as he relived the memories of his ordeal I knew were as vivid in his mind as the memories of what he had had for dinner the previous evening. I knew… because I’d been there myself. Our souls and minds and palpitating heartbeats and ragged breathing connected.
Mr Keenan left. I returned to my prison cell. The poem I wrote for Brian came from my heart. And I know it resonated within his. And it will live with me forever his reaction to those few verses. It showed me the connectivity of the human soul. And…Brian, if you are reading this right now, I would like you to know something; you’re story, your words and the way in which you ordered and put them onto to paper, have had a profound effect on my life and in the battle I have been fighting with the traumas of my past.
The letter you sent me afterwards, the picture you took from the wall of your study and sent to me with the message that you had replaced it with the poem I wrote for you; I shall never forget such a gesture. But…it was one small sentence, chosen from the many thousands in your story, that has shone a light on the long road to my recovery; I see you looking through the window of that little house given to you by a friend, I see the look in your eyes as you begin to write, and then the words your fingertips tapped out that touched my soul and will remain with me forever, you said;
“My healing really began when I put my words on to paper”
I haven’t stopped writing since. And please know that every word, every paragraph and comma I ponder over….I dedicate to you. >>GS
For Brian Keenan
The swapping of the shirt was so symbolic; as though your father’s soul was intertwined within its threads and given onto you for darker, dreadful times ahead.
The souls of a thousand other men through time; the warrior, the painter, the wording, and the rhyme of every thing they ever said or done ancestors, whose wisdom, strength and DNA were hoarded up and passed through eons in anticipation of some evil day.
The prone figure reaching out his hand for you to take… make no mistake dear friend, that was the soul of a forefather reaching through the mists of time whispering… ‘Don’t break.’
The presence of your Father felt, the scribbled codes upon the page, the Magnus Opus filled with cryptic rage, “Poetry written by some other hand than yours?” Twisted reflections on a twisted spoon, a spider’s cocoon, tribal dancing to the beat of unknown tune, the art of making music from the noise, the voices on the streets were Belfast boys’, not breaking the neck of the bird, your anguish at the cries and songs of other men… Unheard
And Homer’s words… ‘To strive, To seek To find…
And NOT to yield…’ Don’t you see? survivor, that it was your soul, my friend when your soul became your shield... >>GS
Prison Arts Foundation would also like to extend thanks and gratitude to Board member Tom McKeever for his role in making this visit possible.
What is a prison educator? Is there a distinction between the teacher on the college campus and the teacher in the prison environment? There is no single answer, except for the broadest explanation of what education in prison involves, and the fact that it is wholly necessary.
Teaching in a prison is a specialist vocation by prison educators. In outlining this specialist level of education, I consulted with four colleagues at the North West Regional College (NWRC) based in HMP Magilligan. These colleagues portrayed a very different scenario of a prisoner to what is usually reported and discussed in the media. My colleagues emphasised that their students with the proper supports are eager to learn, and furthermore, that their students are hardworking. There was a general consensus among them in terms of regarding the potential of prisoners who can change and self-development. They repeatedly witness the consistent and progressive transformative influence of education.
Rita who has 20 years teaching experience in the prison environment, commented ‘that a prison educator is someone who can relate to the student about life in general and not just education. A good teacher needs to be able to listen without judgement and needs to genuinely care for their students’ well-being. A prison educator also needs to be able to challenge
a student when necessary and the role requires ongoing empathy.’ Rita explained that ‘a prisoner often has no ‘real’ friends in prison. The teacher has to be increasingly patient when times are tough for the prisoner. Crucially, you want the best for the prisoners so they can have a better life and that they can find their niche in society once they are released.’
Prison educators are often isolated from their colleagues who work on other college campuses. Teachers in prisons are not given specialised training which can only be gained through direct experience. Yet, prisons attract, and retain, highly trained staff who have positive teaching reports, while encountering the immense day-to-day challenges that are not generally present in other formal education. Teachers in prison deliver vocational training and skills to the prisoners who usually have left formal education at a young age. Therefore, to begin with the teacher is often called on to motivate reluctant learners.
Jillian also has two decades experience teaching in prison. She believes ‘that a prison educator needs to be very flexible, patient and able to deal calmly with a fluid and potentially challenging environment. I think we pride ourselves on being non-judgmental and seeing the potential in students who have otherwise been ignored, disregarded and marginalised. The teacher is committed to trying to get the most/best out of them.
‘We also need to have the ability to see that we are more than just teachers and have the empathy, the sympathy to be able to deal with the challenges and complex problems our learners face/have faced in their lives. It’s often more about how we can help improve their lives and mindset, rather than the qualifications. The prison environment certainly does not suit everyone as a workplace but when it does, it’s definitely the most rewarding (and frustrating) place to work.’
pect is that education can ‘unlock’ society for them, so that on release they have a better sense of feeling connected like their fellow citizens.
During the process of engaging with prisoners and in the work they create as part of their studies, prisoners often express regret. They want change and can articulate that wrong choices were made due to their lack of education. Education changes the quality of prisoners’ lives while in prison and equally reduces feelings of alienation. Prison educators see this as an important part of their job. The impact is creating a prison environment as a community of learning and advancing into education for the prisoners.
Pascale has been teaching IT for four years and says that ‘among other aspects that would be obvious such as building a gateway towards employment, etc., the benefit I see as most important is to give prisoners a second chance. When they were teenagers they were often despised and threw the education system aside because of pressures that surrounded them problems at home, problems with peers, problems with drugs. They had got used to viewing education and associating it with failure. I would see the prisoner educator as someone who facilitates their journey to success so that they can rebuild confidence in a highly positive way, as well as develop a pride in their learning. While doing this, the educator brings out the best in the student through a nonjudgemental and supportive manner.’
Education creates engaged, responsible, functioning citizens, and encourages the need for knowledge, provides job opportunities, self-employment opportunities, and soft skills such as self-awareness, selfdiscovery and self-development. Prisoners who engage with education develop a sense of gratitude in regard to what they learn. There is a wider a connection with prison educators and students in terms of prisoner development and appreciation. A vital as-
Ciara, hairdresser and accomplished tonsorial artist is a newer recruit to prison education, working for just over two years, she has an aptitude for teaching in prison and believes that ‘a Prison Educator is someone with patience (lots of it), has a caring nature and shows understanding towards their students. If I’m thinking of myself, I want to share with prisoners all the knowledge, skills and work experiences I have, in order to give them a positive start to their lives on the outside.’
Teachers hold a unique position in the prison environment. They are seen in a different category to prison staff. Prisoners are more often ‘respectful’ to the teaching staff, through the focus of their ongoing educational development. Teachers claim that once a ‘connection’ is made with the student there is a connection with engagement, eagerness to learn, and students enter into discussions more readily.
The prisoners who are engaging with education courses in Magilligan range in age from 22 to 70 plus. Fortunately, Society and social attitudes to education have changed which helps the infrastructure within the prison. At one time, education was seen as something done in seamless succession from primary school to secondary school to university, all completed in the early twenties. Phrases such as ‘learning for life’ and ‘lifelong learning’ are now fixed in our conversations and the stigma of returning to education at any age is now seen as normal. We often hear of octogenarians commended for completing degrees. In consulting with my colleagues, I was struck by the humility and compassion they have for their work. I am very proud to be a part of this dedicated group of prison educators, with my colleagues in both the NWRC and Prison Arts Foundation (PAF). Education in a prison is successful when it means the prisoner is less likely to reoffend. Education in a prison is transformative when delivered by teachers and educators who see possibility and potential in people where society has otherwise washed their hands of them. Education is possible for anyone and is a human right. >>PMB
If you are a prisoner currently thinking about signing up for education through the NWRC at Magilligan there is a rich variety of courses available. Significantly for YOU there is the variety of accreditations on offer which provide various choices and the acquisition of new skills. When it comes to new learning experiences, you can be assured that these are delivered by prison educators who want you to, not only see your potential but achieve that potential and realise many ambitions for the future.
Accreditation bodies include: City & Guilds Open College Network (OCN).
Art Levels 1 & 2
“But each of us who gets educated—we educate those around us. Education for itself is worthless, but making education yours is priceless. I tell all of my students to make it theirs… “ Jimmy Santiago Baca
Barbering Levels 1 & 2
Carpentry Levels 1 & 2
Computer Technician Level 1 Award in ICT Systems Support, Level 2 Certificate in ICT Systems Support, Level 3 Certificate in ICT Systems and Principles
Creative Writing OCN Levels 1, 2 & 3
CSR card
Cybersecurity Essentials, Level 2
Employability Levels 1 & 2
APPEARANCE
ATTENDANCE
COMMITMENT
COMMUNICATION
CONFIDENCE
CUSTOMERCARE
DEVELOPMENT
EFFICIENT FRIENDLY
MOTIVATION
TEAMWORK
TIMEKEEPING
TRUSTWORTHY
ESOL Entry Levels 1, 2 & 3 and Levels 1 & 2
Food Nutrition Level 2
Food Safety in Catering Level 2
Horticulture Levels 1 & 2
ICT Entry Level 3 and Levels 1, 2 and 3
Introduction to Cybersecurity, Level 1
Joinery Levels 1 & 2
Literacy Entry Levels 1, 2 & 3 and Levels 1 & 2
Numeracy Entry Levels 1, 2 & 3 and Levels 1 &2
Painting and Decorating Levels 1 & 2
Plastering Levels 1 & 2
Wall and Floor Tiling Levels 1 & 2
Welding and Fabrication Levels 1 & 2
SomecourseareavailableviaZoom.
Support services are available for all in custody and their families. Speak to your Class Officer or the Family Support team for further information.
and alcohol abuse.
AD:EPT work across the 3 prisons in NI and have vast experience helping people in custody. All AD:EPT workers are trained professionals who offer a sensitive and confidential service.
If you would like help and support with a drug or alcohol problem, there are several ways you can contact AD:EPT :
● Ask an officer on the landing to arrange an appointment.
● Ask your medical officer or probation officer to refer you or at your resettlement meeting.
● Ask at your Induction/Core Harm reduction meeting.
The spiritual needs of inmates are catered for in prison as well as on the outside. The main denominations have chaplaincies but others are also accommodated. You can contact a chaplain by asking your class officer to phone the office and leave a message. You can also have a request put on the computer system or you may speak to a chaplain at the Sunday Service and make appropriate arrangements.
When someone dies we can feel a host of emotions including being abandoned, angry, guilty, shocked and sad. The death could have happened recently or a long time ago. Talking about how you feel when someone has died can help. Cruse Bereavement Care are volunteers from the community and do not work for the prison service. Cruse will offer you a weekly hourlong session with a volunteer.
When you meet you can talk as much or as little as you want and the volunteer will listen and provide support. All you need to do is to fill in a Cruse referral form, or ask your Class officer to contact Cruse. An appointment will be made to do an assessment, after which you will be allocated a volunteer who will see you each week on the same day.
If someone close to you has died, you can feel sad or upset. Cruse Bereavement Care is here to help.
Shannon Trust is a reading programme specifically designed for adults who struggle with reading.
It’s a peer led, confidential, one to one programme that can be worked through at the pace of the learner in short bursts of 20 minutes a session, with completion certificates earned at the end of each manual.
If you are interested in improving your reading or becoming a Mentor, there are several ways to get involved in the programme:
● Ask an officer on the landing to arrange an appointment.
● Ask an existing Shannon Trust Mentor or Learner to refer you.
● Fill in a sign up sheets posted around the blocks.
Roman Catholic, Combined and Free Presbyterian services are held on Saturdays and Sundays. Check notice boards on wings for relevant times.
Foyleview services are on Wednesday (Free Presbyterian) and Thursday (Roman Catholic and Combined) from 4 – 4.30 p.m.
Available 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, to offer support to inmates who are having a difficult time. The service is available to everyone regardless of their age, ethnicity, religion, or sexual orientation. To make a request ask an officer on the landing. The scheme is independent of the prison authorities and completely CONFIDENTIAL.
Speaking at the official opening of a new £54m accommodation block at Maghaberry, Ronnie Armour, Director General of the NI Prison Service said: “The opening of Davis House is a hugely significant day for everyone in the Prison Service. The building has been designed to put rehabilitation at the centre of everything we do and to support those who are vulnerable and have particular needs.”
Representing Prison Arts Foundation at the launch, Executive Director, Fred Caulfield remarked that “In October 2019 a state of art facility, named Davis House in memory of Steve Davis who was the Governor of Maghaberry Prison, was opened by David Sterling, Head of the N.I. Civil Service.
“During the construction of the facility I was invited to have a tour of Davis House by the Director of Prisons, Governor Austin Treacy, accompanied by the Architect, Karen Crilly. During the tour, we discussed the tremendous facilities available for the prisoners, and I was impressed with the area designated for Learning and Skills.
“Not only was I impressed with the visit to Davis House, but I was also delighted that PAF were asked to design a feature for the front of the building. Obviously, the outcomes that PAF has achieved by delivering art in the prisons was appreciated. The excellent work our Artists in Residence undertake with people in custody improves their self-esteem, enhances their communication skills and unlocks their potential which contributes to the rehabilitation process.
“One of PAF’s Artist-in-Residence, Lucy Turner, designed a fabulous Sculpture, which was made by her and serving prisoners in her class. I was fortunate to see the sculpture being created but one of the highlights was the enthusiasm and skills that the prisoners had developed during the process. The design and the commitment of artists and prisoners to the overall process to create this sculpture was a testament to the benefits of Art in Prisons.”
Lucy Turner (Lucyturnerart.com), Artist-in-Residence at Maghaberry, directed the sculpture design and creation. An accomplished printmaker, Lucy’ s approach was hands-on while recognising the need to be “an advocate for innovative and creative approaches, encouraging and supporting experimentation and crossdisciplinary work to engage, inspire and connect, in this case, the whole prison community. The re-
strictions on tools and materials which can limit do challenge, we had to think outside the box. Therefore, it became apparent quite quickly that a stainlesssteel sculpture with mosaic elements made perfect sense for the Davis House sculpture. The CAD drawing, water jet cutting and welding of the main body was subtracted in Belfast leaving the detailed mosaic panels to be constructed in the ceramic studio in Skills and Learning.”
Lucy’s aim was to engage as many prisoners as possible in the creation of the sculpture: “It was important to engage with a cross section of HMP Maghaberry's population lifers, remand, young, old and foreign nationals worked closely together.
“The resulting drawings (created by the men) for the panels illustrate Lapwings emerging in a rural landscape with wildlife meadows and the meandering River Lagan. The Lapwing, a bird that nests on open shrub needs protection from predators, this refuge within the walls of HMP Maghaberry are also depicted. The birds' distinctive plume is mimicked as a flake on the main metal structure. Each panel was worked on by two or three men the decision for colourways, the breaking, sorting and placing the tiles to build up the image was theirs.”
Commenting on the final piece, Lucy added that: “The credit to Stephen Davis on his commitment within the prison service embeds an ethos of working together. Davis House Nesting Lapwing, a contemporary sculpture, is truly unique and representative of the social landscape that is HMP Maghaberry.”
The art project at Davis House HMP Maghaberry also won a Commended Award at the 2020 Koestler Arts Awards.
Those taking part set weekly goals. The goals were reviewed weekly by the individual. Targets set by individuals ranged from personal things such as phoning family, more training and physical activities, to taking control and responsibility for your life. How to recognise patterns of response to situations and giv-
“a wider view of the needs of people”
Casey added that the programme was also about ‘getting your mind to be strong as well as your body physically strong.’ He further said that ‘gaining qualifications was an added bonus. We compiled portfolios about sport, anatomy and physiology, and developed a deeper awareness of physical disability and the needs of other people in termsdepth course giving a wider view of the needs of people in a gym setting. This proved to be a popular course, with numerous pris-
with the opportunity to better themselves emotionally, physically and offering positive mental well-being. To begin with the course focused on group work that involved conversations around the individual’s wellbeing. This progressed on to a 15-minute physical warm-up and then 45 minutes to an hour kick-boxing session, with other exercises included. As a cool down, individuals lay on yoga mats and mediated, focusing, in particular, on breathing. The course leaders explained many breathing techniques, positive self -thoughts, and how to quiet the mind.
, a kick boxing club in conjunction with Saint Columb’s Park House, and coordinated through the Personal Development Unity (PDU). The course is funded by an organisation called Fight for Peace. Shorter courses are being developed to offer the programme to prisoners on shorter sentences. The organisers hope that the programme will be extend into the community after release. The Department of Justice notes that: ‘In some cases these qualifications can allow individuals to aspire to eventual employment in the leisure industry or they can simply be useful to their communities.’ >>CM
“That Old Gate Fever”
Review: Music for me 2020 was ticking along just dandy. I had been booked to do some shows in small towns and villages across Ireland with my good friend Paul Casey, had a mini tour of England in the works and I was three songs in to recording my new album. I had also just started teaching a Film Production Course at the Nerve Centre and my music students in Magilligan were producing some great work for the upcoming Koestler Awards. Like I said, just dandy.
Then… Boom! Lockdown! We all had a sense that something was looming, closing in, but how could we prepare for something that we had no control over? And here we are seven months later..… The first two weeks went by swimmingly. It kind of felt like I was pulling a sickie but wasn’t really sick. I watched too many films, ate like a man with no arms and drank beer like it was about to be prohibited. Could I keep going like this for the foreseeable? ‘YES!’ I exclaimed. ‘NO!’ My other half Diane chipped in. ‘We need a routine.’ She was right. By week three, I was doing some classes online and writing again. We started doing the Joe Wicks online exercise routine every morning, albeit the one for senior and elderly people (don’t judge) and I started getting used to the new norm. But I was missing the gigs and the face-to-face work. I’ve done some online live shows and pre-records for festivals but it’s not the same. There’s nothing like the buzz of a live show whether you’re performing or interacting. I say interacting because I believe that concerts are com-
munal and we all participate in the experience. That can’t be achieved by going live on Facebook and stopping every 10 minutes to exclaim to your Aunty Maggie that no, you don’t know any Leo Sayer songs and that Leo doesn’t sing any of my songs so that makes us even.
I also found the idea of restrictions slightly frightening. Now, I’m a home-bird and there is nothing I love more than settling down for the night with Diane and our wee pup Murphy. Sometimes we avoid nights out, make excuses as to why we can’t attend social events etc. Just sometimes mind you. But if you’re like me, a man who never wants to go anywhere, then when someone in power tells you that you can’t go anywhere then you want to go everywhere!
As well as writing new material and collaborating with fellow musicians online I found a new appreciation for the outdoors. We’ve had some lovely walks and my bird watching has started to become an obsession. A few months ago, I filmed a female Sparrowhawk doing her morning grooming routine. It was a sight to behold. Our garden has welcomed Blue Tits, Great Tits, Sparrows, Chaffinches, Greenfinches, Robins, Blackbirds, Dunnocks and even the odd Magpie (Bastards!) I photographed and filmed Buzzards, Swans, Geese, Herons, Song Thrushes and many more. I get the same buzz from baking. I suppose Lockdown for me has been a chance to reflect and re-balance. And to connect more with people and surroundings. One of the best things Diane and myself did was a series of online ‘Grow Your Own Veg’ workshops and we were so bitten by the bug, that we’ve decided to invest in a Polytunnel.
The idea of self sustainability becoming ever more attractive given the ever growing impact of Climate Change and Global Capitalism. We face an uncertain future, the rich will continue to watch their profits grow while the rest of us fight for survival. And on that happy note, at least I’ll have me own spuds. >>PN ***
According to our resident song writer Paddy Nash, Jerry Jeff Walker wrote Mr. Bojangles in Jail. 'Walker has said he was inspired to write the song after an encounter with a street performer in a New Orleans jail. While in jail, for public intoxication in 1965, he met a homeless man who called himself "Mr. Bojangles" to conceal his true identity from the police. He had been arrested as part of a police sweep of indigent people that was carried out following a high-profile murder. The two men and others in the cell chatted about all manner of things, but when Mr. Bojangles told a story about his dog, the mood in the room turned heavy. Someone else in the cell asked for something to lighten the mood, and Mr. Bojangles obliged with a tap dance.'
So, for anybody who can’t dance but has a pen and paper and the imagination to try writing a song, here are a few tips from Paddy:
Writing a Song
Every song has five key elements. These are:
1. Lyrics
2. Music (Melody & Harmony)
3. Rhythm (Tempo and Timing)
4. Arrangement (Including production)
5. Performance (With emphasis on vocals)
The trick is to find the right balance of these elements. Let the lyrics determine the feel. Is it a happy song? Fast tempo, major chords perhaps. Is it a sad song? Minor key, slow tempo perhaps. Then feel free to flip it and mix it up.
To write a song we need some tools.
1. Imagination (Most important)
2. Notebook
3. Instrument (Your voice is an instrument)
4. Recording system
Some people think that they can’t write songs because they can’t play an instrument. I think that if you can whistle, then you’re a musician. We all have a song in us.
The Building Blocks for Country/Pop/Rock/ Folk Songs
1. The intro (Really important in Rock Songs)
2. The verse
3. The chorus
4. The bridge (or middle-eight)
5. The pre-chorus
6. The instrumental break
7. The outro
What makes a good song?
1. A catchy lead melody line
2. Hooks, both instrumental and vocal
3. A strong chorus
4. A great groove
5. A strong, distinctive vocal delivery
6. An effective structure
7. An interesting arrangement, clever production
8. A distinctive atmosphere or mood
Tell a story, what is your song about?
Methods to use
Play about with ideas and jam using lyrical and compositional tools such as rhymes, alliteration, metaphors etc. Structure your composition using the building blocks above.
1. Who? Are you singing about?
2. What? Was/is the situation?
Or Use Paddy’s Perspective
Creating the Pictures
Going for a walk – What do you see? Who do you meet?
Looking down from above – I call this the Spiderman Effect. It works especially well when writing a personal song. Sometimes we’re too close to the subject so zip yourself up to the highest building and look at the whole picture.
Keep in time and make it rhyme, Keep it short and give us a surprise.
If you’re struggling for words try singing the syllables.
Here’s an exercise.
First line 7 syllables
Second line 5 syllables
Third Line 7 syllables
Fourth Line 5 syllables
Rhyme the last word of line 2 and line 4. You’ve got a verse!
When the first Koestler Arts Awards took place in 1962 there were around 200 entries. In 2020 there were over 6,500. The awards provide feedback to prisoners engaged in visual arts, design, woodcraft, hairdressing, ceramics, sculpture, writing and music. Prisoners in Magilligan won 47 awards, 25 of which were for creative writing. Last year 23 awards were achieved for writing, demonstrating that there is always a progression within the writers group.
One poem ‘Trespassers’ was selected from the writers group Bronze Award winning anthology ‘Going Equipped with a Pen’. The poem is among only 60 artworks selected for the exhibition at the Southbank Centre, in London. Due to COVID-19 restrictions, the artworks will be displayed outside the centre. Some of the poems will be recorded by actors while others will be reproduced onto window vinyls. The exhibition will also be filmed, and available on the Koestler website.
The Time In cover for the winter issue 2019 ‘Jailbreak’ gained a Graphic Design Bronze Award. And the comic strip, Rufus and Floyd was ‘Highly Commended’. Once
again testament to Rico’s talent, our regular cover artist and comic strip creator.
Koestler judges over the years have included Anthony Gormley, Benjamin Zephaniah, Turner Prize winner Jeremy Deller, Louis Theroux, Hot Chip, and Grayson Perry. This year’s panel included Bob and Roberta Smith, George the Poet, Hot Chip, Jeremy Deller and Sarah Lucas.
We hope to feature more of the winners’ writing in the next edition of Time In. Due to the restrictions, we are unable to access some files as we go to print, but many of the poems on the theme of ‘Window’ are featured on our poetry pages.
Needless to say, the Koestler Arts Awards are the highlight of our year. They inspire us to be more creative and give us a platform to showcase our work. Congratulations to all who made submissions and to those who gained awards.
bright red car what reallyhappened
For Charles Bukowski
I gotta tell you about this guy I raced across Texas last Sunday. Man, what a blast.
We tore up the entire highway from old Blair’s junction right down to Dallas. Crazy f***in’ guy. Crazier than me.
So there I was, on my way home from practice trying to get a feel for my new wheels, you know giving her just a little gas, when I come up behind some beat up old Chevy going slower than a tortoise’s grandma.
So, I push the pedal, swing around it and leave it in a cloud of dust at my ass and think nothing more of it.
The highway is lined with Sunday drivers old Fords, pick-ups, you know, and so I’m f**king away at the gears, swerving and passing every piece-a-junk the good Lord’s put in front of me.
All of a sudden, I hear this whoooosh of wind, the dust all around my windscreen blocks out the beautiful golden sun that’d hypnotised me and I hear this screeching of tyres, roaring engine, and as the dustcloud clears, what do I see but the same damn Chevy I left sitting a mile back.
Well, I still don’t know how to tell it right, explain it like…
First I got a bit jittery what with the car shaking and all the dust cloud and all.
Then I goes into some kinda numb shock as I realise this guy’s almost ran me off the road, put me in the ditch.
Then, I realise, with my eyes half popping out, my right foot ready to pump the brake and my knuckles bone white on the steering wheel that this mother f**ker is PISSED.
He’s pissed at…ME!
And he’s challenged me.
My eyes narrow, visor down.
I’m snarling after this asshole now, foaming in the heat as I hone in on his tail lights, everything else is a blur. The road, the other cars, the mountains beyond. All I can see is the tail end of his battered old Chevy, ducking and diving along the freeway, Bang! I up the gear, foot to the board, and the steering wheel becoming part of me.
This guy’s good! Bam, he passes one car, two, three, four.
But I’m after him, I top gun, I’m locked on. You’re mine asshole.
I can feel the millimetres between my wing mirror and those of the other vehicles I’m passing.
I can feel the reaper in the back seat behind me sharpening his scythe, rubbing his bony hands.
But to hell with you reaper, I’m thinking, just let me take care of business here first.
I notice the sun’s going down. Headlights and tail lights begin to disappear. Sweat runs down my brow, slowly along the outline of my cheek bone, it pauses with me, both of us shocked
Stunned
Flabbergasted
At the move that he has just made three cars up ahead. How’d he pull off that move?
The bead of sweat faints right there and then, tumbles to the rim of my top lip and I lick up its remains with my tongue, I need hydration, it tastes of salt and fear.
But I’m a fighter like my mama.
I gun the engine, mop my brow and go for last throw of the dice.
All or nothing.
Death or glory now.
Get ready back there Reaper, cause this guy is going down.
I pump it, everything blurs, lights, darkness, fear. I can feel my anger turning to respect for this guy and I watch him cut and thrust and parry every move I make to get by him but to no avail.
Who the is this guy? Some formula one legend? A deity? It’s no use, I can’t get by.
And then suddenly, the air changes, my ears pop and the moon climbs up over the mountain like a white flag and I feel my body flop.
Drained!
Beaten!
The road before us, behind us, everywhere is empty, deserted, we’ve left the whole world in our wake.
I gotta get a look at this guy.
I gotta see his face.
I gotta!
And I realise he has synchronised with my mind on some weirded out plain, out here on the edge of nowhere.
Dallas city lights are glittering before us as I ease the gear stick up into third and I see his tail light flicker once.
He edges slowly to the right, we come up side by side.
Two exhausted battleships and I can almost hear the reaper sniggering behind me as he disappears. His laughter taunting me.
‘You smuck,’ he’s saying.
A coyote laughs up on the hills.
The engine of my ride spluttered and as I looked up at the guy opposite me I felt my jaw hit the floor.
I squirmed in embarrassments, in defeat.
Defeated by some old man, in a battered beanie hat and three weeks’ worth of white whiskers on his chin. His eyes glowed redder than the cigarette he was sucking on. A demon. A devil.
He threw his big old head back, slugged wine from the bottle in his left hand, gave me the middle finger and turn off at Route 66.
Mother f**ker, I whispered, mother f**ker. >>GS
Once again, our front cover and comic strip have been created by Rico. The comic strip like any other art discipline engages with many genres, styles and formats. The comic strip is often a sequence of drawings, set in panels that tell a story, presenting insights and observations using humour. An artist requires many skills to create these drawings. Comic strips are a regular feature of magazines and newspapers.
During the 17th century, the narrative strip typically took the form of an allegorical graphic centrepiece surrounded by narrative border strips. Often crude in style, providing accounts of political intrigue and military terror; the best known is the Thirty Years War by Jacques Callot.
The earliest strips concerning private morality are German, and recount murder and their public punishment. The emphasis shifting from the latter (16th century) to the former (18th century). The crime strip eventually developed into the exaggerated and romanticized life of the famous brigand, a precursor to the early 20th-century detective strip.
Professor David M. Kunzle writing for briticanna.com offers some interesting facts:
In the early (pre-19th-century) the strip was seldom comic either in form or content, and many contemporary strips are not necessarily humorous.
The terms comics and comic strip became established about 1900 in the United States, when all strips were indeed comic. The French term is bande dessinée (“drawn strip,” BD for short). The older German term is Bildergeschichte (picture story) or Bilderstreifen (picture strip). The Italian term is fumetto (little puff of smoke). In Spanish both comic strips and books are called historieta.
In the early period there were two major forms: a series of small images printed on a single piece of paper and a series composed of several sheets, with one image per page. When displayed on a wall it formed a narrative frieze or picture story.
Two basic groups of themes emerged: political mortality and private morality. Surviving pre-1550
German artists in the 17th century specialized in satirising wayward wives and proposing violent remedies. The Dutch produced, for children, some farcical strips of primitive design. By the mid-18th century the Russians were making satirical strips.
English artist, William Hogarth (1697-1764) raised the picture story to an aesthetic level rarely surpassed. With a social insight, both broad and deep, an unrivalled sense of satirical referencing, and exceptional physiognomic finesse. Hogarth dealt with characters from all classes. His narrative richness is visual, and he dispensed with the paraphernalia of caption-balloon-legend-commentary, using inscriptions, introduced naturalistically, into the scene. It was the introduction into the broadsheet of the comic mechanism of caricature that established the “comic strip” as comic in form and content.
Economy of line, instantaneity of comic effect, visual and verbal wit became the hallmark of the strip. With the story concentrated on a single page, backgrounds and narrative incident were minimized in favour of striking facial expressions and silhouetted poses.
The term ‘graphic novel’ is established for the
Arts 2020 Themed Category ‘Window’.
Below are some poems submitted by the writers group at HMP Magilligan:
When I look out the window, it reminds me of some things, some places I’ve been to, all the laughter that it brings. I’m locked up here in prison, with not a lot to do, I’m glad I have the window, I can make some things come true. I wake up every morning, and do what I have to do. It’s always the same old thing, there’s nothing really new. I still got long to go here, and time ain’t going fast, I’ll be glad when it’s all over, I can leave it in the past. I’ve been in jail for years now, it’s not a nice place to be, locked up in a cell, it’s not really good for me. So yes, there’s a window, but I’m still in a bloody cell. Getting through all this? Time will only tell. >>MMcD
Oh! how your eyes have viewed my soul
Peering to the skies, saved from rain, wind and even snow
Translucent are the reflected emotions of the prevailing season
It’s transparent as my thoughts begin to reason
Open your mind and I will close your sight
With curtains of fear that escape the night
I feel no draught, just peace of mind
No escaping of heat, the colourful kind
Your frame shakes to the sound of thunder
As lightning strikes I begin to wonder
If I can see through your protective glaze
Can you navigate through my dying hearts maze?
Like the sweet smell of springs first flower
Left ajar, loves not lost, it still has power
But in the end I want you to know
It’s the sands of time that make you, window. . . >>GL
Living in a den trying to make a dent in my detention
Looking through a keyhole filled with depression
Looking out this window with tears in my eyes
In a split second my whole life changed forever
Life has left me with a massive void in my heart
Trying to retreat and beat my demons
Cracks start to show and tunnel through my mind
Through it all, I kept faith that I would be happy
An endless pit of loss and grief
Thoughts and feelings locked away in a chamber
Life sliced like a knife through my heart and soul
Knocked down many times but NEVER stayed down
I fought hard all my days to overcome the challenges
Now, 25 years later, it payed off and I found my soulmate
Now my life can really begin and take off into outer space
My Love and happiness holds no limits. >>CM
Poem Commended Award
The day started off, just a good wee day, Gym first thing, training away, Went for a wee run, clears the head, Rather do this, than lying in bed,
Heading to work, to start the day, Had not a clue what was coming my way, When I saw the car coming, it was too late, I had already visioned the prison gate,
The next thing was, I’m put in cuffs, Remanded next day, now it gets tough, Being back here, not the place to be, I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy,
Now the days start, with alarm bells ringing Jingling keys and guards singing, Back to back routine, same every day, If I had the choice I’d go a different way
My time is coming, getting close to the end Everybody excited family, friends Say your goodbyes to all the mates Cause that’s the last time I’ll see the prison gates. >>BG
A disturbed being disconnected from reality a drunken man sitting with devilish juice demanding money for more drink from his dad 6 litres drunk, he is now delusional out of a detention centre, depressed moreover, disappointed he fell for a drink disobeying God’s way, dishonour he now feels dizzy from the cider all downhill and dragging fegs doubts the way he’s living desperately wants to change a man drunk for some dying reason depressions rise
he stumbles with a bottle deceiving no-one but himself until the police say ‘drunk and disorderly’ back to a detention centre, no drinking today. >>AC
We watched the devil’s disease slowly feed eat firm flesh from breast to bone ravage liver, kidneys, then her brain tormented souls WE WEPT and WEPT gnawed down her spine as face contorted unable to save the one we love sucked flesh from cheeks and sunk her eyes
Stairs became mountains we walked hand in hand back buckled in pain and when her hair fell out she walked bold as brass had us all in stitches with a joke and a jest, selfless
Fought the fight of heroes mighty fought tooth and nail fought to see her son through school fought to see her daughter graduate fought to keep us together the clock watching her until there was no more time
The curtain closed a farewell applause the loveable memories carved into our souls. >>WK
In the outdoor hollow square cellblock with barbwire through a small flick of shallow artificial light I huddle fast to endure vigilant of a loud pleasant easy gust I brim intently with an important ideal I seethe, tremble and grasp a more perfect circle taking the smooth with the rough and ancient inconvenient useful truth. >>SA
Here’s a thought that is on my mind?
It’s about life and death and something divine
Like the song of ice and fire
A game of thrones, a king’s desire
Its nature’s little riddle, by grand design
Einstein’s theory, his paradigm
It connects all the dots to the past, present and future
Its unseen, unheard but it’s there I’m sure
So ask yourself this question oh friend of mine
What did they take from you for your crime?
It wasn’t your gold, it wasn’t a fine
The true cost wasn’t benign
It was your heart, its beating chime
It was in the end your time
It’s an unseen verse of an endless rhyme
Without it we cannot even begin the first line. It can be described as a sleepless dream
Even though it’s not heard, not even felt, or seen.
We all feel the urge to look at a clock
See its face and hands, listen to its’ tick-tock.
It’s an unfelt thirst for a drink so fine
Without it the grape never becomes the wine.
It can be described as heat from the suns’ beam
Even though it’s not heard, not even felt, or seen.
We all feel the urge to look at a lock
Hear the key as it turns, as it turns, click-clock.
It’s an unheard voice in a pantomime
Without it we’ll never hear through the grapevine.
It can be described as the “I” in team
Even though it’s not heard, not even felt, or seen.
I really doubt it
Even if we wrote about it
We can never really understand time. >>GL
Your first, your last, your only rhyme. >>GL
My life changed the day I met the Kat that could not purr,
I found my dream when I wasn’t looking for her.
She is everything to me and so much more,
When I first saw her my jaw just hit the floor.
I realised she was perfect, the yin to my yang , Each time I saw her my heart sang.
Perfection inside and out doesn’t even know it,
It’s my job to remind her and that’s why I show it.
Beautiful and kind my picture of her , I was complete the day I met the Kat that could not purr. >>JK
Prison Arts Foundation
lyrics
Can’t take it with you
Said the poet to the priest We were playing Hold ‘Em In the belly of the beast
Then the teacher struck the cue ball And it made the perfect sound Then everybody stopped As the shadows filled the ground
Tonight I lay thinking Of the choices that I made And how my worst ten minutes Put me where I am today And I know it won’t be long now
‘til I embrace the great unknown Is anybody out there is anybody home
I can feel that old gate fever Coming on
I am not alone here
There’s a stranger in my room
He’s a nameless cliché
A bully and a buffoon
But when he thinks I’m sleeping When the silence steals the night I can hear him praying And crying like a child
I can feel that old gate fever Coming on
The last time I saw her Her head bowed in shame And all I could whisper Is I am not afraid But I’m afraid
I can feel that old gate fever Coming on Come on
from Gate Fever, released June 2, 2017
Paddy Nash - Guitar & Vocals
Unit 3, Clanmil Arts & Business Centre, Northern Whig Building, 2-10 Bridge Street, Belfast, BT1 1LU
Phone : 028 90247872
Email: info@prisonartsfoundation.com
Magazine Education Centre
HMP Magilligan Point Road
Limavady BT49 0LR