Progressive Prison Project

Innocent Spouse & Children Project

Greenwich, Connecticut
Poetry From Prison  
By Lee Gutierrez
Lee Gutierrez is serving eight years hard time in the NYS prison
system for a single DWI – an
accident in which someone got hurt badly.
We had one week with him before he reported to impart

some spiritual principals of survival & success in prison.

Lee’s letters The Night Before Prison 
and In Prison for the Holidaysare two of our most requested blog posts.

The Sky is the Limit
Lee Gutierrez
“This poem is for my son Hudson Lee, 
my first born. He has been on this earth 
for 4 months and has transformed me. 
He is the light at the end of my tunnel.”

He is a blessing of God, 
a priceless addiction.
Our tree of life continues to grow
 with a tender branch,
fore the sky is the limit.

With our love and God’s divine help 
the sky is the limit,
With a a bright guiding star
to show him the path.

We must take care to nurture, 
to provide all the love
 and spirit to build his foundation
fore the sky is the limit.

In return God will raise a strong,
just and compassionate son.
Who will continue to grow
and add new branches
to our tree,
fore the sky is the Limit. 

Don’t Call Me Stupid 
Lee Gutierrez
“This poem is an event that happened to a 
cell mate across the hall. He just got transferred
to the cell block that day and was anxious and angry…
this is what transpired.”

Shuffled around again like a nomad. 
My life in 4 bags, piled in disarray. 
No time to unpack, no time to settle in the C.O. screeches
“Cell 8 get to work!”

I feel the heat, my skin is flush
“Why is this happening to me?”
I put my boots on, marching with the others.
My thoughts are reeling, resentment kicking in. 

The time passes, keeping busy, 
distracting my anger, breathing slow.
The work is over need to settle in. 
The crew is back, showers are next, 
we chat as we enter the hall. 
“Lock it up, Lights on for the count!”
Is barked by the man in blue down the hall. 
I am confused, “but we need showers!” I claim.
The man rushes to me, 
I sense my anger flaring up. I hear,
“What are you stupid? Lock in!”
I see red – ears are ringing, lost control. 
Pushing my face in his grill, growling,
“fuck you, what is your problem?”
Time stands still, a blow is struck to my neck,
a blow is struck.
He tries to take me down, 
I resist pushing back.
I feel a wave of blue rushing me, 
surrounding me like a pack.
Pain, Pain – It covers me.
Nowhere to go, No way to escape. 
I am knocked down a pounding weight, 
draining the life out of me –
crushing, bending. 
I am face down, knees on my back
pounding on my  legs.
“You’re breaking my arm. Arrrrh!!”
I resist, hands on my head pushing me down, down. 
I see a leg kick my face again and again. 

I squeal “STOP, STOP, please STOP!!”
The lights fade away. 
I am floating, floating a I get dragged away.
“He didn’t have to call me stupid.”

Progressive Prison Project/
Innocent Spouse & Children Project
Christ Church Greenwich
254 East Putnam Avenue
Greenwich, Connecticut, USA 06830
Rev. Jeff Grant, JD, M Div, Director

Assoc. Minister/
Director of Prison Ministries
First Baptist Church of Bridgeport
126 Washington Avenue, 1st Floor
Bridgeport, Connecticut, USA 06604

(o) +1203.769.1096
(m) +1203.339.5887

Lynn Springer, Advocate
(m) +1203.536.5508