This is the blog of Keven James Bramwell, a gay inmate in a maximum security Texas prison. These are his real-life stories of life in prison, and how he got there. (Some material is adult in nature – reader discretion advised.) All content is copyrighted material. Cannot be reproduced without permission. COPYRIGHT 2011

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My Way Out

through a looking glass
i search for all that’s left
somehow I’ve lived to tell
my freedom bought and sold now

“and it all fell down, all the things i build up
came crashing in, i lost more then myself
if it’s not over now, then somehow
i have to find my way out”

i’ve been through the garden
the green vines and street lights
someone told me there’s a paradise…
so close to the edge
lived so fast that I fell over it…
and now I’m so much further
down here, where the world is darker

“and it all fell down, all the things i build up
came crashing in, i lost more then myself
if it’s not over now, then somehow
show me how to find my way out”

it’s amazing how life changes
when you take chances and come up empty handed
and when you chase your dreams and get just what you wanted
like the sea escapes the moment nothing’s there to hold it

“and it all fell down, all the things i build up
came crashing in, i lost more then myself
if it’s not over now, then somehow
i’m gonna find my way out”

through a looking-glass
i search for all that’s left
under a sea of dust
i won’t stop till I find myself

The Infinite Sadness

All the lights have gone down
and the crowd has raced out
but I’m still on the edge of my seat
I’ve been here since dawn
now the beginning is gone
the ending I just can’t believe

Few bitter words spoken
a picture painted with words when
the truth’s now all black and white
Like the print in the paper
only fuel to the fire
the embers and ashes that burn

The price is so heavy
for a sin that’s so deep
I fall to the floor on my knees
To be pulled through the doors
and into a world
where nothing’s familiar to me

And now here I am
four long years later
surrounded by lies and deceit
Intertwined in the madness
the infinite sadness
holding on to what’s left of me…

-kevenjames

Unrecognizable (Part I)

Five months into my prison sentence, I received my legal work in the mail. The folder contained court paper work and documents about my case. I also received the hospital rocords and doctors’ notes pertaining to my accident. These were vital records the court appointed attorney failed to use in my defense. This was the same public defender who insisted that I refuse the plea bargain of 15 years the DA initially offered me. He called the offer “outrageous”, insisting that I would only receive probation because the crime was nonviolent, there was no weapon, no force and no injury. Like most people, I had little to no knowledge of the legal system. All I knew was that I committed a crime, unexplainable to myself. I followed his direction and mistakenly took his advise. I desperately need a lawyer fight for me, something I have not had still to this day. 

Instead of a trial before a jury, I plead guilty and went in front of a judge for sentencing. Before I went in front of the judge, I had to go through what’s called a Pre-sentence Investigation. This is an interview that goes into detail about your life prior to and leading up to the crime. I had never been convicted of a crime, or in trouble of any major kind. My life was far from being simple, but there was nothing for the interviewer to grab hold of. She was clearly on a mission to bury me under the prison. During her interview with me, she threatened to walk out twice when I told her that I did not “decide” to be gay. When I said this she became hysterical. Slamming her portfolio down and warning me that whatever she recommends, the judge will most likely follow. She was disgusted and through her heavy southern accent and voice of contempt, she asked me if I seriously thought God had made me this way.

I decided early on to be completely honest. I knew I was not innocent and I was not portraying myself to be. I believe I was looking for answers as much as they were, maybe even a little more. I took a brief psychological test with another woman who was cold as ice, and remember both women sitting directly behind the DA the day I walked into the court room.

I listened to the DA talk about this horrible monster; this heartless, worthless animal. The person she was describing was someone I have never known, someone you’d read about in a book or see in a horror film. I hated this person she described and each time she pointed at me and announced my full name out loud I was reminded with a punch in the stomach that this person was saying this about me. The things she was saying were nothing like me, this “animal” she was describing was a creature of her own illusion. 

I wanted so desperately for my mother to speak on my behalf. She flew in from Philadelphia but became very ill and could not make it. My brother took the stand and tried to talk about the accident I was in just a month before this crime was committed. He tried to explain what had happened to me, the things that took place after leaving the hospital. He told how I was unrecognizable and incoherent, even to myself.

The accident was horrific. It had left me in a trapped vehicle that was completely destroyed (photos below). I was medi-vac’d by helicopter and in ICU for massive head trama and swelling. I thought for sure my attorney would make this an issue in court. That he would provide doctors letters and medical records stating the mental condition I was in after the accident. He did none of this, and did not fight for me. In the year I was waiting in solitary confinement for my date in court, I believe he spoke with me no more than 4 times. He convinced me that the judge would not sentence me over the DA’s plea bargain that I had agreed to. When the Judge sentenced me to 99 years (and to run concurrent with 16 years to The Department of Criminal Justice) nothing can describe it. There are no words.

Image

Image

Unrecognizable (Part I)

Five months into my prison sentence, I received my legal work in the mail. The folder contained court paper work and documents about my case. I also received the hospital rocords and doctors’ notes pertaining to my accident. These were vital records the court appointed attorney failed to use in my defense. This was the same public defender who insisted that I refuse the plea bargain of 15 years the DA initially offered me. He called the offer “outrageous”, insisting that I would only receive probation because the crime was nonviolent, there was no weapon, no force and no injury. Like most people, I had little to no knowledge of the legal system. All I knew was that I committed a crime, unexplainable to myself. I followed his direction and mistakenly took his advise. I desperately need a lawyer fight for me, something I have not had still to this day. 

Instead of a trial before a jury, I plead guilty and went in front of a judge for sentencing. Before I went in front of the judge, I had to go through what’s called a Pre-sentence Investigation. This is an interview that goes into detail about your life prior to and leading up to the crime. I had never been convicted of a crime, or in trouble of any major kind. My life was far from being simple, but there was nothing for the interviewer to grab hold of. She was clearly on a mission to bury me under the prison. During her interview with me, she threatened to walk out twice when I told her that I did not “decide” to be gay. When I said this she became hysterical. Slamming her portfolio down and warning me that whatever she recommends, the judge will most likely follow. She was disgusted and through her heavy southern accent and voice of contempt, she asked me if I seriously thought God had made me this way.

I decided early on to be completely honest. I knew I was not innocent and I was not portraying myself to be. I believe I was looking for answers as much as they were, maybe even a little more. I took a brief psychological test with another woman who was cold as ice, and remember both women sitting directly behind the DA the day I walked into the court room.

I listened to the DA talk about this horrible monster; this heartless, worthless animal. The person she was describing was someone I have never known, someone you’d read about in a book or see in a horror film. I hated this person she described and each time she pointed at me and announced my full name out loud I was reminded with a punch in the stomach that this person was saying this about me. The things she was saying were nothing like me, this “animal” she was describing was a creature of her own illusion. 

I wanted so desperately for my mother to speak on my behalf. She flew in from Philadelphia but became very ill and could not make it. My brother took the stand and tried to talk about the accident I was in just a month before this crime was committed. He tried to explain what had happened to me, the things that took place after leaving the hospital. He told how I was unrecognizable and incoherent, even to myself.

The accident was horrific. It had left me in a trapped vehicle that was completely destroyed (photos below). I was medi-vac’d by helicopter and in ICU for massive head trama and swelling. I thought for sure my attorney would make this an issue in court. That he would provide doctors letters and medical records stating the mental condition I was in after the accident. He did none of this, and did not fight for me. In the year I was waiting in solitary confinement for my date in court, I believe he spoke with me no more than 4 times. He convinced me that the judge would not sentence me over the DA’s plea bargain that I had agreed to. When the Judge sentenced me to 99 years (and to run concurrent with 16 years to The Department of Criminal Justice) nothing can describe it. There are no words.Image

Image

Fuel to Take Flight

I’m on a crusade to rescue myself from this treacherous place. It’s pulling me apart to the point where I’ve been hiding away and my skin hasn’t felt the warmth of the sun in months. This has been more profound than the classic state of depression. I’ve lost the person I’ve relied on for the past 4 years, the one who taught me the skills I need to survive in this place. During that time I was focused on the positive and saw beyond these walls. When the reality hit me that he was really gone and I’d have to do it on my own, I was devastated.

When I first got here I heard everyone talk of their family and friends vanishing and how soon you would be forgotten, but I didn’t believe it would happen to me. I thought that I would always have the love and support of those who declared their loyalty to me, but I was mistaken. Sometimes I feel as though I’m on another planet, further from everyone and everything in this world; the world that I’m no longer a part of. Even so, I’m blessed to have several people who have never turned away from me.

I have decided I will not allow this place to take the wind from my sails. I will be stand strong and the fight inside me will not be forsaken or given as payment for my failures. All the chambers of my heart will beat like the wings of a wild bird imprisoned in a cage. I will pull my strength from whatever sources I can.

Some of these sources are the books that people send me. One book, Prophesy by Kahlil Gibram’s arrived one day in a small envelope postmarked from India, with no return address or accompanying note. I also have been fascinated by Robert Greene’s book, The 33 Strategies of War, and books about the power of your subconscious mind, as well as an invaluable book called Sacred Wounds. These books all help me in various way to stabilize my emotions and begin to repair the damage of all the disturbances I’ve suffered.

Over the past 4 months, I’ve been a leather craftsmen’s apprentice. Learning the trade that could very well provide the means for me to hire a lawyer for the first time. There is no other way to get my sentence reduced or to actually have a trial. I have also been painting and creating abstract art, which has re-awakened a lot inside of me. I’ve dusted off the ashes and am bringing back to life the creativity and individuality that define me.

This new year I have resolved to keep my head and spirits above water. I have resolved to continue sharing my story with everyone through this blog. It’s so important for me to keep in in touch and stay connected with the world I see out my window. I wish all of you the very best and hope there is comfort and peace in your heart.

“He is a stranger to this life
stranger to those who praise or blame,
for he upholds the torch of truth,
although devoured by the flame.” –K.G.

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Photos of Artwork I created

Photos of Artwork I created

3D Corsett

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Artwork that I created

Artwork that I created

poet…priest

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Pictures of artwork I created

Pictures of artwork I created

Epic

Image

Artwork I created

Artwork I created

Abstract 2D

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Photos of artwork I created

Photos of artwork I created

3D Spider Web

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