Prison Radio
Robert Neibler

Hi, my name is Robert Neibler and the name of my piece is, “My Material.”

It beats. I breathe. I rise.

As I search this world for meaning and my shining light still

I rewind to my green mind and come forth with nil

Such a surprise, the surmise, what this inkwell spills for the

True mic when I’m blue like its red heartbeat’s quill

It’s graphite and ink that dances in my veins

All this heartbroken two-step weaves is word-shaped stains

While waiting for these stains to tell me who I’m supposed to be

I stumbled onto poetry and meaning found me

So it beats. I breathe. I rise.

As lines resonating in minds who didn’t know it

So punchlines hit soft like timid poets

‘Cause you sit back and let the impact seep in the mind with time

So rewind as minds and resonating lines rhythmic as rhyme I

Rise as time passes past time

‘Cause it’s all they got to pass

Down to those who look up like they’re fallen in the grass while He’s reaching out a hand

‘Cause I can pass along his knowledge but I can’t make you understand His words the teachers teach you

To be honest, it’s poetic phonics preachers preach to you

And truthfully it rings true so humbly I beseech you

Take this time to discern this line for His words are my material so all my paint could do is shine

And nouns and verbs is what I bleed and if it beats, I breathe, I rise

As recollections of imperfections are sheltered in subconscious mind

For success is what rests in the boroughs of chests and it’s beating in rhythm with time

It’s words and it’s beats and it’s freedom it seeks

So I take them and shape them with lines

With pain that indicts and emotion and rights and veridical verbiage I shine

It beats. I breathe. I rise.

It beats. I breathe. I rise.

I rise with insight cause I breathe in His light know His heart is in rhythm with mine

For my sins of the past He’s forgave and at last I’m free to live out His design

For rainclouds they pass and it’s shining like glass as I praise my grateful, our Christ

And as long as He’s there, His wisdom I share

As it beats. I breathe. I rise.

These commentaries are recorded by Prison Radio.