Many say, wonder, what I’ll do, free. I guess it makes them, those, wish, and want to think ahead. Many wonder what made me cross the divide. The other side, to this gut-grey life inside……Can you put yourself in my shoes.? Hmmm. That makes me give a grin. You’ll never win. Win, a coming dawn; for you’ll be dead and gone…..Cross never here. You’ll be made to wilt. Dry up; give up; forget your God; maybe laugh to your own sour smell; for Pete’s sake what have you become?…..Brother, you aint no fun. Wonders sunk all your heart desires. Guess what? You’ll thrown it into prison’s mire……Me, this fellow knows a way. Up a forgotten lane. To the very edge, I’ll go. My moon will be there, full. My eyes spand the wanted land. So calling to me. Sorry my love it’s all I see…..I’ve finally crossed. Not to lights and dance. Nor bed and she and she. Know, just the simple spot and a seat for me……I’ll think of something never born; write something never read. Feel something never felt. I’ve crossed, you see, blessed a first for me. Give me those crossings everytime. I’ll survive to the head of the bastard’s lines. Keep all else; this George will be fine.
Yes, many say, wonder, what I’ll do.
Guess it makes them…..wish.

I subscribe myself,
George Martorano

This brief information presentation will explain programming during federal incarceration in three acts. First the beginning, second how to to do your time and thirdly the use of what is presented to facilitate a positive finale.

ACT I So You Have Been Arrested

Unfortunately you did not make bail. You are now in the complete charge of the BOP. What are you to do now? Recent Supreme Court decisions help a pre trial and post convicted inmate. There are BOP policies that are beneficial to both types of inmates. Also there is a lot that can be done by utilizing the education and positive programs provided by the institution where you are housed.

You should have a complete mental understanding that BOP staff did not put you here and they are not your enemy. In fact, the best revenge in a prisoner’s situation is success. To start to be successful in your new settings, you need to learn all there is to be offered by all the programs available in a pre-trial facility. Talk to any and all staff that are involved or can direct you to the available programs for change. Doing time with a chip on one’s shoulder can only lead to a negative “time” during your incarceration.

We know your mind is preoccupied with your case, your family, and possibly your health. But again, there is case law that states judges are open and receptive when shown that an inmate has immediately stepped up during his incarceration by taking all types of educational programs for change. This type of positive attitude and adjustment will set a motivating pattern if one has to continue his days within the BOP.

Act II After Sentencing: How to do Your Time

Unfortunately you are now a sentenced inmate within the BOP. No matter what level of prison you are sent to, all facilities have multiple programs available. The Education Department, Prison Chapel, Vocational Training and select units offer a variety of life style change programs. Since you may have received a lengthy or a short sentence you might think that taking programs for change is a complete waste of time. You would miss out on one of the most important things you can get from your time of incarceration. One might think that it is better to become worse during his or her incarceration then to make foolish attempts to educate ones self in many ways. Let me state that the authors of this profound material say that that type of thinking is a complete falsehood.

For instance, lets say an inmate has a life sentence and is feeling no hope. Yet there is complete hope if one can completely change his character through education. For not only taking BOP programs, there is also affordable distance learning which one can participate through many types of institutions. By working hard and not wasting your years in the SHU or through negative actions, an inmate who puts his nose to the grindstone and gets a high level of education, or a degree of some kind, you will not be the same person anymore. You will possibly and most likely receive some type of assistance from leaders in the outside community who can make a difference in an inmate’s life. In plain terms, do not let the time do you, you do the time in the best possible light.

ACT III A Positive Finale

Time has passed, you have been in the BOP for a while, for quite some of your birthdays. You have educated yourself at a high level of expectations. You have avoided receiving incident reports. Through the years, you have sat in front of teachers, instructors, outside visitors relaying information in a learning capacity and even mentors. You have accomplished such goals through your hard work. You are now an inmate that staff seeks out to work within all types of positive programs. Quite frankly, you are not the same person who entered the BOP so long ago. You are a person that the BOP can not but help document wonderful “progress reports”. An entitled progress report in such good standing can be utilized in many ways, even applying it to the court for a reduction in sentence. Again may we say that the authors of these three acts know from first hand experience that using the BOP and all of its positive programs can only bring you closer to some serious goals.

It is our hope that this first hand information relayed upon you can point you in the right direction throughout your incarceration. Everyone in the system from the warden on down wishes for you to excel in your prison setting.

Written by: George Martorano and Robert Paratore

Eruption; into this life. Seems not bad in the beginning. Seems to worry is short. Laughter comes each day. Play had its ups and downs. Than, once in a while along comes a clown. Though the area wasnt that much. On certain days came a little luck.

Eruption; you’ve grown so tall. Venturing out not knowing, yet searching for the fall. Came the taste of love; went and push wanting more than the hugs. Gangsters near and far, handsome nice to see. Will the neighbors remember me.? Dressed to kill, walking flat streets at will; no, never looking for a hill. My, my they set a trap. Back and front hidden from all; eyes so small; mouths that be. Badges and all……rats, rats in every hall. Wanting one thing, to see me kneel.

Eruption; thrown into a cage. Four by four; can I remember it all.? Tears came and went. Fists bang, bang till dawn. Lips knew words, sounds but she’ll never be found. Eyes, oh eyes just you they see. Eyes, oh eyes tell all to me. Mine are clear, facing decade’s fear. Oh, then of heart. It beats, yes. Does it feel.? Does it wish, maybe a dream.? But it all comes down to you. Last, last eruption’s past. Last, last, the last eruption could be. Life or death. I and the cage wait and see…..wait and see.

And welcome to the age of prison

I feel they took all the pretty seashells from the sea
I feel the flowers gone, vanish before the sun and me
I feel an unholy drape, dark, pulled so tight beneath blue skies

And welcome to the age of prison

No more can I hear the babies cry
No more can I taste lips so shy
No more will I dance to fall
No, no more can I woo again…..friend

And welcome to the age of prison

No, no more will she wake in my arms
No, no more they chained that charm

And welcome to the age of prison

I soon will feel the sum of things
I feel what agony brings
I feel lesson’s lesson, scared on my back
I feel my love never to look back

And welcome to the age of prison

2009-ARRESTED FOR SEXUAL ASSULT AND KIDNAPPING-awaiting trial

WOW!!!!! I have been caged for 26+ years and can’t get a shot, but this idiot did–someone, anyone, explain ALL of this to me.

What to say?? My 25th Christmas “caged”. I haven’t sent out any holiday cards since the death of my son. I can’t. I do phone my daughter on all the holidays. I smile on the holidays. The smile does not mean alot since it is only of the face, and not the heart these days. I don’t know if my heart can smile anymore. I will keep trying though.

If I could make it so that every child has a great Christmas, I would – even if it meant I would have to burn in hell.

I never feared much, now, I fear nothing. They have done all they can to punish me; now I just sit warehoused.

Earlier today, I got ahold of a “pear”. I haven’t seen a pear in years. I held it… studied it… it’s colors and smells… then I ate it… slowly. What pleasure, imagine, something as simple as a pear bringing pleasure. Maybe I should have learned this earlier in life, simple pleasures, maybe I would’nt be where I am today.

I wish the people in Washington, the elected officials, would start moving on these “prison-reform” bills. I wish this because each year, more and more of us are dying while warehoused. Being warehoused can make one very tired. I am getting tired.

I remember a while back when they used to bus us from one facility to another (now they fly you, sometimes). 16-18 hour rides on a bus, chained to another person, a stranger. Each day stopping at some county jail. They would wake us up at 4am, chain us, and load us up for another 16 hour ride to another hell hole. Imagine doing this for 10-14 days, well I did do it. A trip from Miami to New York took 2 weeks. The bus would stop everywhere picking up and dropping off inmates along the way. I took another 4 month trip from Lewisburg in Pa. to L.A. County jail. They say it was by mistake. On these trips you would get tired, dog tired, all the way to the bone tired. One way to get a rest was to get into a squrmish, a fight of sorts. They would then throw you in the “hole” till the next bus came.

I wanted to weep one day, you see, I was so tired and weak that I had to hit my friend just to get a rest. I learned that day to not hit in the head, just the torso. I have passed this on to many a convict. You get the rest you need and don’t really have to hurt anyone in the process.

I am sorry this is all I have this holiday season. Christmas, it is supposed to be joyous-it’s the day our Lord was born.

I wish I could “pen” warmth, I can’t.

I wish I could weep like before, I can’t.

I wish I could stop the pain and suffering of the world, I can’t.

I wish I could send a Christmas card, I can’t.

I know the part of loneliness I wish I never knew. I wish and wonder if I’ll ever be a funny person as before… I will try, but, I don’t know if I can…

MERRY CHRISTMAS,

George

Birds play a part in prison-life; at least in mine. Being surrounded by walls and razorwired fences, the fowl have to come to us.

I remember in one “pen” on the Atlantic coast having a large population of pigeons. There were a few hawks also, they would perch up on the 100 foot light poles. Every once in a while a hawk would swoop down and grab a pigeon, leaving only a few feathers behind to rain down on us.

I remember at another “pen” in Texas looking out my barred cell window, at a dip in the ground where sandpipers would gather after a rain. They moved around fast and seemed to do so with a purpose.

At a Chester County jail while in the “hole”, I remember praying for the sparrows outside my window. The razor wire would cut off their tiny little feet and they would laydown and die on the cold cement. Proof of this was laying there everyday.

The ducks, I remember the ducks at a Maryland prison. They would lay on the blacktop sunning themselves. The road led from the prison, there was little traffic.

I write this from a small space as usual: but it’s my space.

While watching staff trim limbs from the trees that house our fowl here at Coleman: I noticed that 2 nest, one with 3 young doves and one with 2 eggs laid upon on the ground. I picked them up, the mothers and fathers swooped at me. I assured them they would be ok.

Within seconds a warning came over the loudspeakers, announcing for everyone to clear the compound. We were herded to a space 10ftX30ft, a mini lockdown of sorts. Upon entering the space I searched mine out, 2 dove nest in tow. I found my spot-took off my shirt, removed the laces from my shoes-made a cloths line-hung my shirt and tee shirt over it, and had “my space”
I noticed a lot of new arrivals trying not to look over at me: they probrably thought I was the “unit nut”, sitting there, on the floor, behind my cloths line, with my bird nest, pen and paper, lol… little do they know, being so new.

I tore a little peice of my tee shirt and wet it, getting the young doves to take a drink was challenging, but accomplished. Once off this lockdown, I will try and find my friend Brian. Brian takes care of the birds as he has the time to devote to them. I will be able to visit them and watch them mature.

Watching pleasant things is good, please remember that: try it, find that “space”, and try it.

Yesterday, Friday, I picked up George’s mother at 9am for our visit with George. Evelyn, was in town for her grand-daughters graduation. She usually gets down to Florida 2-3 times a year, while here she gets in as many visits with George as she can.

The ride from my house to Coleman is about an hour and a half, depending on traffick. We arrived at the prison around 11am as I stopped for gas on the way. After filling out the visitation forms and “waiting” for 40 minutes to be processed, we were finally called to the counter and scanner. After clearing, we sat and waited for the few others to be processed. While sitting and talking with Evelyn and an attorney that was waiting with us for what seened like 1 hour but was only “45 minutes”, I noticed alot of chatter on the “radio”s” and the phones ringing off the wall. Time now had advanced to 12:25 – The officer came over and told us there was an incident and it was going to be at least another hour before we would KNOW if we would get in, no gaurantee’s.

Damn, I thought, here is George’s mother, 1200 miles from home and she can’t visit her son because of an incident. I looked at the other “potential” visitors and could see the saddness tha they too were going to miss a visit. While I understand that there was a situation and it needed to be tended to, but did ALL the inmates and their visitors need to be PUNISHED?

George was not involved, and as of this posting I don’t believe it happened in the visiting room, so WHY??? I will tell you why I think it happenes – Many if not ALL “incidents” are BLOWN out of proportion so that the “public” believes that behind those walls are “monsters” – Bullshit, they are not all bad guys folks, some are good guys just like me and you-some just made a bad choice (mistake)-some really should’nt even be there-BUT, when an “incident” happens it’s broadcasted as “inmate up-risings” so that the “public” OK’S the (harsh)treatment of ALL the inmates (and their loved ones).

Needless to say, due to this incident, we did not get to visit. Hell, maybe monday, if we’re lucky.