I am infatuated with stationery.
I have a strong desire for it, and it puts me at ease
easily,
Like taking a hit of a drug, when the pen hits that paper,
Like eating your favorite food, when that stamp goes on
that blank envelope,
Put it sideways, it means I miss you.
Put it upside down, it means I love you.
Amazed and want possession, of all the different
stamp types,
stacking up on all varieties of writing paper, like people
did with masks at the start of coronavirus.
To study all these words, and know the meaning of
them.
Collaborate and put them together, like no
Other in the world could do,
To express yourself, and give your point of view on any
subject.
To vent the things you’ve been
holding in,
In the way you show your penmanship, writing neatly and the
way you slant with your cursive style,
Campaigning like you’re running for president, writing to
addresses in all states and countries,
Not even concerned, if you get a response back,
As long as they read my name, it will always be in
their memory bank.
I’m going to have a pen, pad and stamps around,
Till my last days of me leaving this earth,
Because nobody want to hear, from a person that hasn’t
Lived what they’re talking about,
Its called, learning how to dance in the rain,
with my purpose and passion,
With stationery.
Republish this article
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.
Here are our ground rules:
- You must credit Prison Journalism Project. In the byline, we prefer “[Author Name], Prison Journalism Project.” At the top of the text of your story, please include a line that says: “This story was originally published by Prison Journalism Project” and include a link to the article.
- No republishing of photographs, illustrations or graphics without specific permission. Please contact inquiries@prisonjournalismproject.org.
- No editing the content, including the headline, except to reflect changes in time, location and editorial style. For example, changing, “today” to “last week,” or San Quentin to San Quentin, California. You can also make minor revisions for style or headline size, and you can trim stories for space. You must also retain all original hyperlinks, including links to the Prison Journalism Project newsletters.
- No translation of our stories into another language without specific permission. Please contact inquiries@prisonjournalismproject.org.
- No selling ads against our stories, but you can publish it on a page with ads that you’ve already sold.
- No reselling or syndicating our stories, including on platforms or apps like Apple News or Google News. You also can’t republish our work automatically or all at once. Please select them individually.
- No scraping our website or using our stories to populate websites designed to improve search rankings or gain revenue from network-based advertisements.
- Any site our stories appear on must have a prominent and effective way to contact you.
- If we send you a request to remove our story, you must do so immediately.
- If you share republished stories on social media, please tag Prison Journalism Project. We have official accounts on Twitter (@prisonjourn), Facebook (@prisonjournalism), Instagram (@prisonjournalism) and Linked In.
- Let us know when you share the story. Send us a note, so we can keep track.