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Timothy Bluitt


Timothy, his wife & Timothy Jr.

Serving 30 Year Sentence on Drug Related Charges

A Call Out To All Brothers and Sisters;

My name is Timothy Bluitt, I am serving a 30 year sentence on drug related charges out of Oakland, CA. I would like to share my poems to inspire and instill strength and hope to those who have become victims to the war on drugs.

Over the past decade of my incarceration I have witnessed the never-ending grind, of the criminal justice system, absorb the lifeblood from the community. The shackles of crime and drugs must be removed or another generation will be lost. I have personally experienced the pain, loneliness and depression of life behind the razor wire.

As victims of mandatory sentences and other unjust laws, we the brothers and sisters, of all races, creeds and religions must come together and recognize the role we can play in stopping the flow of our loved ones into our footsteps. We must put down the inferior weapon of the sword and pick up the mightier weapon, the pen. Our youth are at risk and I/we can and must help to deter them from a life of crime and violence that can only lead to incarceration and worst death.

Hopefully they can learn vicariously of the dangers that await a life on the outside of the law. I/we must take responsibility for our children by reaching out through our writings. We no longer have to lie doormat in our confined state and only watch as more of loved ones fall into the clutches of incarceration. The pen is mightier than the sword and is the power to stem the flow of our young shadows that may follow us into institutions of confinement.

Twirling Souls

A spiral of souls
Is twirling in the wind
Twirling, twirling

The lives of many men
A sound of cries, is shattering the night skies
Thunder and lightning

As I listen
I hear the souls cry
Weeping without laughter

As I look
I see the souls that cry
I tell them
The twirling will one day die
The twirling will one day die


This will never be my home
Cause I know I will never like buildings of stone

Though I am forced to be confined
I will never make this house mine

As I think and pace my days
My nights become sleepless rage

Mornings as I blink awake
I'm reminded where I am forced to stay

Looking daily at identical clones
Praying religiously to one day go home

As I await for the gates to open wide
I must remain strong to do this time inside.

Posted 5/31/05

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