Jesse Shannon
#89-T-1248
Sullivan Correctional Facility
PO Box 116
Fallsburg, NY 12733-0116
Nickname: Shannon
Age: 44
DOB: 12/22/1963
Height: 5'8"
Weight: 185
Eye Colour: Brown
Hair Colour: Black
Race: Black
Religion: Baptist
Family Contact: Yes
Job / Profession: Barber
Cell Mate: No
Custody Date: 11/13/1987
Offences: 2nd Degree Murder
2nd Degree Criminal Weapons Possession
1st Degree Robbery
2nd Degree Robbery
Sentence: 30 years - Life
Earliest Release Date:
04/22/2018
Earliest Release Type: PAROLE ELIGIBILITY DATE
Parole Hearing Date: 02/2018
Parole Hearing Type: INITIAL RELEASE APPEARANCE
Parole Eligibility Date: 04/22/2018
Conditional Release Date: N/A
Maximum Expiration Date: LIFE
Page Listed: 07/21/2007
Seeking: Female
Sexual Preference: Straight
Sexual Orientation: Straight
Hobbies: Writing, Poetry, Barbering.
Dreams and/or Wishes: I would like to one day visit my homeland, the mother of civilization. (Africa).
A bit about yourself you'd like the pen pals to know: My name is Shannon, and I am a 44 years young Black man in search of a true friendship. Despite my present situation, I am warm, caring, honest, and very much down to earth. I am in search of that special woman with whom I can become friends with. I appreciate thought provoking conversations that stimulates the mind. I understood from the beginning that the end purpose of life was simply to live, love, experience, contribute, connect, gratify the mind and body, that friendship that could emerge from the strangest of places. I read once that if society locks up men unjustly, then the best place to find a just man is in prison! Since my incarceration, I've matured, grown spiritually, and have changed for the better. But at the same time, I've been extremely lonely, and I truly need a friend. I am looking for a woman who desires a good male friend in her life - - one who doesn't play games. We live only once. I believe in the glass being half-filled, and not half empty. Sometimes life is about taking chances, and leaping out on faith, for faith is stronger than fear. I am in search of a woman who isn't afraid of taking a chance of becoming my friend. If you are that special lady who is not afraid, or judgemental, then a letter from you would brighten up my world immensely. Until I hear from you, I remain. A friend in need. I am financially independent, therefore I am not seeking any financial gain.
Just Another Day
Today, like yesterday - -
I sat at a table
Painted mahogany brown,
Instead of the prison wall grey
Watching people suffer
From optical illusions
And deferred dreams
One con to the next
Total strangers connected
By a prison number
And steel bars
Locked into a cycle of chaos
Big time hustlers
With $5.00 dreams
But I've lived in the
Lion's den too long
Not to know that
There's a big difference between
Hope, pipe-dreams and false illusions. . .
Today, I watched Hector as
he jogged the yard
Continuously putting one day
In front of the other
Hoping it will deliver a different outcome
I watch as he picks up speed,
Occasionally looking over his shoulder
Only ot see another jogger, an old man
Looking back at another jogger
Who's on his heels
But - -
They can never outrun the day,
And time is running out:
To Hear Then Tell It
I awoke this morning
with the sun smiling
through my prison bars
and decided to venture out.
As I sunbathe in the prison yard,
the sun massages my body,
causing it to capitulate
to the sweltering heat.
I watched brothas pull themselves up
on pull-up bars and lifting weights;
occasionally flexing their inflated muscles.
Some, running up and down the basketball court. . .
running from a past
into a future that doesn't exist.
Others are rapping about elusive dreams
and Black-Tail magazines with Black Queens.
The rationale I assume is
they're trying to forget their problems,
or pretend they don't have any.
"It's easier that way," my homeboy E-man said.
it's easier than grabbing the bull by the horn,
and riding him until his neck snaps,
or he succumb to the pressure - - (But they are afraid)
Here, lies gives birth to gossip, and gossip becomes the
unadulterated truth.
And the truth becomes disguised 'cause of the lies.
Dopefiends and crack-heads calling shots,
men of honor locked in a box.
Pedophiles taxing so-called thugs,
real convicts gets no luv.
Petty hustlers and fake-ass-gangstas
posing in the yard,
styling the latest Corcraft prison uniform,
and Timberland boots-
reminiscing about block corners they once owned.
"Yo Son, I'm reclaiming mine when I hit the town.
"That's right Son, Bed-Sty, Do or Die."
To hear them tell it,
they were boss playas and hell raisers.
But I've been in the Devil's den too long
not to know the breath of liars.
To hear them tell it,
they've all had Cadillac Escalades,
a Lincoln Navigator, with the navigation system,
A Hummer
or Mercedes Benz
with a house in the Hamptons
next door to P. Diddy Coombs.
They had money like the Feds,
and a good time on the Red!
"But check it homeboy- -
How come you're smoking Top on the week days,
and gimme one on the weekends?
Gauntlet of Shame!
After a visit with my son the
degradation that
I experienced would
make an INS officer blush
No curtain
In the world
Can shut
The shame
And humiliation
I feel
When told to strip.
Brings back
Racial memories
Of my Foremothers and forefathers
Standing on the
Auction block
having their
Souls bidded for.
The command is given.
Shoes
My shoes are searched
One at a time.
Not for contraband
But what makes
Me walk with dignity.
Pants
Searching for
Weapons of
Self-esteem.
Shirt
Searching for
That steel rod
That keeps
My back straight.
White underwear
Stripped away
Anything that
Resembles purity.
Mouth
To see if
I smuggled in any pride.
Ears
To see if
There are words
Of encouragement
Clinging to my
Subconscious.
Balls
To make sure
There are no future
Children hiding there.
Ass
Turn around
Bend over and spread 'em
So he can see which
Neighborhood I'm from
Goddess Of Purity
If there was a Goddess,
she would be naked, for
the truth must be naked,
not veiled or concealed.
She would be beautiful
like a clear starry
night or a golden
morning fresh and
clean. She would be the
center of the universe
for all the family
revolves around her.
The heart and Love,
the physical world,
the body and the
moon would be her
symbol. God, the
spirit would Love
her so strongly he
would die for her,
just to show his
great Love for her.
And if she fall in
Love with spirit,
new life would be
born to the heart.
Alone
While day-dreaming once
I experienced an outer-vision
I watched myself from the outside
And saw a total stranger
The man in the mirror
The one Mike sung about
The one W. E. Duboise educated us about
The one I hipped you to
As I sit here in this cage
I am compelled by whatever Force
That moves me to reflect on my life.
Like rolling thunder, I see visions
Of light permeating my body
Leaving shallow holes filled with
Unutterable grief and pain
I ss visions of shadows appear and reappear
Only to appear again
Never, anyone I might recognize
Yet, I see my face
And my name written inside of a rainbow
I am alone - - raging without purpose
Without no direction, and no path to follow
A lost soul
Alone!
**Please note that prisoners cannot respond to e-mail via computer so if you want a response you must include your name and mailing address. Inmates do not have access to internet or email.**
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