The Three H’s by John Green

Names and faces

I don’t remember until

I see them return

Over and over again.


Twenty-three years of being

Without family and friends

Leaves desperation

In place of hope.


I don’t know what

Tomorrow leaves for me

But if it’s anything like

Yesterday, I’m lost.


But somehow I find a way

To maintain my humanity,

My humility, and my

Sense of humor.


They can’t take these three things

Regardless of their attempts

Or their viciousness—


Remember the three H’s



And Humor.


Keep them safe and close,

Like your lives depend

Upon them,

Because they do…


John Green, 7/5/16.

Write to John:

John Green #671771

C.T. Terrell Unit

1300 FM 655

Rosharon, TX 77583


Energy Without Geography- John G.

Inside us all

There’s a place we call home.

Somewhere all our own

No one can take away.

And through it all

When we can’t face the day

We turn to ourselves and say

Why must we be alone?

                                                                                        It’s just energy

                                                                                                without geography.

                                                                                                    A place that we call our hearts

                                                                                                still beating in time.

                                                                                               It’s just a symphony

                                                                                                  with no choreography.

                                                                                                  Time isn’t wasted there

                                                                                                    when love was yours and mine.

Inside us all

there’s a time we remember best.

Sort of a history test

to answer a call.

And through it all

I thought I heard and saw

My dreams walking strong and tall

Yes, these were the best.

                                                                                            It’s just energy

                                                                                                     without geography.

                                                                                                       It’s just a symphony

                                                                                                         without choreography.

                                                    A play, a song, a rhyme…


Written by John Green #671771 from CT Terrell Unit in Rosharon, TX.

Poetry from Pelican Bay SHU

While we are still figuring out some things in Texas, I am happy to introduce a man who contacted me from solitary confinement at the Pelican Bay State Prison. Pelican Bay has been at the center of a legal battle over human rights abuses and prolonged use of solitary for several years now. Timothy has chosen to share some loving words despite the isolation he lives in. Enjoy!


I see orange and purple skies,

As I watch the sunset in her eyes,

Mesmerized —

Such an elegant beauty

In which she possesses

Her every word caresses

I find myself possessed

Alleviated stress

She strokes the keys to my life

Like a seasoned musician

Of whom I will always listen–

The eloquence of her melody

Lifts me up in pure rhapsody

And sets me down

Upon sweet crimson grass

Where I lay forever dreaming

At last, at last,

Finally, at long last.


Timothy Trujillo, P32319


PO BOX 7500

Crescent City, CA 95531

Support Pelican Bay and other California Prisoners fighting Solitary:


Poem: The Ingredients For a Beautiful Relationship

Pour in

A cup of God’s Presence


                 one scoop of genuine Love,

          Add a teaspoon

                  full of trust.

  Sprinkle with the sweetness

                               of understanding.

Now lace

                              in swirls of Loyalty,

and splash in a dash

          of hope;

Then stir in a smidgen

              of self-sacrifice.

Combine that with an honest dose

of communication.

       Now toss in

a drop of compatibility.


shake well, and serve with a smile

                            morning, noon, and night

to the right man or woman for you.

A poem/daily dose of inspiration by Mpaka, a Texas Death Row inmate.

My Only Friend, by John Green

My only friend

Doesn’t judge me or criticize.

He’s (or she’s) twenty-two years old

And hardly even tells me lies.

My only friend

Breaks down once in a while.

I guess it’s to be expected

Even when you’re not neglected.

My only friend

Twenty-two years old in radio years.

The things I hear everyday

Are by now halfway cross the galaxy.

Classic rock, new wave, college radio,

NPR,, even country,

Just leaves me wanting more.

Be back in a moment after this commercial.


I don’t measure time

By a clock or a calendar,

Just the years I’m kept alive

By my only friend.

My only friend…


Someday I’ll have to replace her (or him)

But I can’t bear the thought

Of my only friend

When the clock lights go out.


My only friend, only friend,

When I push your buttons

Onward I begin again.


This poem with a musical interlude was written by John ‘Johnboy’ Green, #671771

Johnboy is currently in real need of a pen pal and would appreciate anyone willing to give him a chance as their friend. Find his address here. 

Meet Terence Andrus

Terence Andrus
Terence Andrus

“Attention! Attention! Attention!”

        I have been suspended in the air on a piece of string between life and death. In hopes of multiplying every thread towards life, I’m screaming for help!

       Hear my descending whimper transpire into a mighty roar from the clutches of death that is being dealt.

Jesus wept? No, Jesus is weeping from the sight of his brothers and sisters being condemned to a fate he himself consciously felt.

It is just not right!

       Lives are being spunt from the barrel of a needle by an overzealous prosecutor who thinks he is serving justice for the people. Where is the humane aspect of my fellow peers portraying the role of a soul reaper?

        No judgment within this mortal realm should deface the wake of another brother’s existence. But here I sit, in the midst of death on a row, writing out this petition.

      Once again, in hopes of getting someone’s, anyone’s, attention, attention, attention!


            My name is Terence Andrus, and if you have just read my poem “Attention! Attention! Attention!”, then the eyes and ears of your heart are the attention I am seeking. I am a 27 yr old black male, whose hands have been forced to fight for the continuation of my existence in the flesh. On November 14,  2012, I was condemned to death; unless my defense team and I can steer the verdict where breathing is an option, I am doomed.

           But, realizing multiple strings are stronger than one, I chose to reach out for additional threads to strengthen the betterment of my cause. Help is to me whatever you may feel will be helpful to someone in my shoes. Whether it be words of encouragement, spiritual uplifting, or sound words of advice. They all will be nourished upon and very much appreciated.

        A little about myself. I am from Houston, Texas. I am 5’10”, 190 lbs, brown complexion, brown eyes, and black hair. I love poetry, music, art, reading and living! In good times and bad, I know that there are loving, worthy friends in this world. It is better for me to have one such friend, rather than dozens of superficial acquaintances. So, instead of me seeking to find a true friend, I am looking to become one! Thank you for your attention!


Terence Andrus

See more about Terence

The Real Root of Hate

by Mpaka, Texas Death Row inmate.

How should a society

define the motive behind a hate crime?

            Is it simply domestic terrorism?

                                                                                          Plain ole racism?

Or perhaps it’s a cancerous influence

of mind derived far from

                                          the realm of mankind?

For the father of all lies

          has always lied,

                                                    and tried to hide

his true nature for years.


          his existence has been exposed;

for the ideology of racial supremacy

sold its soul

to spiritual wickedness in high places.

So to combat a racist:

fight the Prince of Power in the air

   on the battlefield of prayer.

Then we can

conquer the spirit of hate

with love, kindness, and solidarity cause

that’s what it will take.