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Anthony's address for info on his poetry
Anthony Mungin 288322
Union Correctional Institution
P226 S
7819 NW 228 th Street
Raiford Florida 32026 4400
please take a moment to read
Christmas was different this year I decided to forgo the turkey the tinsel
and the other festivities to visit an innocent man on Florida's Death Row,
a man who has not been able to spend Christmas with his family and friends
for over ten years and all this due to a gross injustice !
(see Anthony's case).
Christmas 2003 offered some joy to Anthony as he was able to see his son
who is 16 years old and who is confined to a wheelchair
Update_ 2007 Anthony’s son Jacouri died on December 29th 2006 may God rest his soul He will be sadly missed by all who knew him
This is an urgent plea to help Anthony to fight for a new trial to help him
prove his innocence and get off death row so...............
PLEASE
Please help in anyway you can and write to him directly at the above
address or to the web mistress here at "Shackled voices"if you are
interested in helping the Anthony Mungin Defense Fund contact :
the web mistress THANK YOU !
DEATH ROW
I rewind the journey I've traveled,
Pondering the molding of whom I've become;
Dry tears unattended and a soul that's baffled ,
Feeds the mystery of the purpose that's yet to come.
The momentum of maturity increases my appetite,
Giving me visions my haunting past could not grasp;
For reasons I experience the seasons to ripe,
Impregnating me with dreams for future tasks.
What be cometh of tears I've shed in chaos?
Have that which I've not dealt with prolong my rise?
Shall heaven's accountant reimburse my loss,
Or purify the rivers rained from my eyes?
No, it shall not be a tear of mine dries in vain,
What falleth in vexation shall maketh me strong.
For the tears of love from which I've come,
Shall give me the perspective to carry on.
by Anthony Mungin 2002 all rights reserved.
Anthony Mungin's poetry reflects his astonishing strength and
determination to struggle against and defeat his unjust sentence.
Refusing to be lowered to the level of a caged animal pacing his
cell his poems are a lesson to us all through the sharing of his
faith and dreams for a better world devoid of evil not only for
himself but the whole of mankind.
@
shackledvoices.com
or here
If I don't write,
I don't feel right –
Something is missing,
Maybe it's the blissing;
The way the pen and paper be kissing,
A poet needs someone to be listening.
Perhaps not, maybe we just need to express,
To get things off our chest;
Our hearts need emotions to caress,
Like all the rest, it's the nature of the flesh.
How else will the world know-
There are more than just evil minds on death row,
If poets don't let it out,
Dispersing it through the postal route –
For unbiaised minds to read,
Through you comes the miracle we need.
I simply just need to write,
To expose my inner light.
Despite what the media is exploiting you to keying-
Like you I came to exist through another human being.
Anthony Mungin November 23rd 2004
Anthony Mungin 288322
Union Correctional Institution
P226 S
7819 NW 228 th Street
Raiford Florida 32026 4400
External Battles does n’t compare
With internal perpetual affairs,
Ghost of past,
Bad habits steadfast-
Conflicts within
Never ends.
In seeking ways out
I pause and sigh with doubt,
Because those I love
May not understand,
That uncertainties,
Hinders veracity-
Mystifying this capricious man.
Presumptuous loneliness feared
Derived from unforgettable tears,
Affects my clutch
On the hearts I touch.
O inconsistent Soul
That only God knows,
Pray the remedy to this Inner War
Will tarry not afar
© Anthony Mungin
January 3rd 2003
Unknown often when death comes near,
Compelling broken hearts to face its blow;
The propensities to reason seem unclear,
When rationality tends to drag us low.
Seemingly O death manifests afar,
Or so unconsciously we embrace the facade;
Losing loved ones to an inevitable law,
Whether tragical or peacefully is indubitably hard.
Reminiscent heart hear sounds of laughter,
Of sons, daughters, wives, husbands and friend;
And memories of their joy shall remain hereafter,
As a blessing to the spirit and soul within.
But, oh how thou absent physicality awakens,
Realities’ most dreadful epitome;
O precious soul in motion taken,
My lost expressions are in tears I free.
Yet, who I have loved I shall love still,
That love which I’ve cherished shall never die;
Til my own end, this oath shall I fulfill,
And walk on through tears that cherubs and I cry.
November 27, 2001
© Anthony Mungin
FREE ANTHONY
