PRISON OF DESPAIR

A sincere poetry collection about faith, survival, and renewal.

In this confessional book of poems, photographer and writer Jackson explores spirituality, resilience, and self-acceptance. The first poem, “Fear,” reveals that the speaker is afraid to dream and live, uncertain how his future will unfold. “Will I live a peaceful existence? / Or will I excuse self-ignorance?” he asks in “Breathe.” Despite “many tears” and “a burdened mind,” he finds solace in Jesus in “Love.” Christianity continues to provide relief in “Saved,” in which the speaker proclaims, “At last, I can breathe, my heart beating / Jesus, help me to never feel alone again.” Poems such as “Skin” and “Playground” address racial identity and childhood bullying, while “Untold” and “I am” question self-worth. “Who I Am” contrasts negative self-perception and an aspirational self. Alongside this spiritual journey, the speaker longs for a romantic partner. “Wait,” “Find Me,” and “Love?” detail the speaker’s search for a special someone he can lean on. “Hello Father” is a direct address to the speaker’s absent parent, informing him of milestones he’s missed. The closing poem, “Redemption,” finds the speaker in a hopeful state after recognizing that his thoughts were untrue and that “at last, I had the courage / To tell myself / I was wrong.” The greatest strength of this collection is its brutal honesty and raw emotion, evidenced in poems like “Waiting,” in which Jackson writes, “I have a rose / With no one to give it to / A heart…with no one to cherish it / A ring…with no one to wear it / Love…with no one to share it with.” Those who have experienced despair will relate to Jackson’s depiction in lines like “Never good enough / Not more than a bluff / Echoes of victory / Become a mystery / As dreams fade away.” Jackson also fruitfully experiments with point of view, as in several poems written from Jesus’ perspective. However, some readers may struggle to stick with this deeply personal and painful self-discovery over hundreds of entries.

An emotionally vulnerable book of poems that may be too self-referential for some.