No Loose Ends

No Loose Ends
Meet the Cast

Friday, January 24, 2014

Another Day

I'm taking it all in. The headlines and opinions, the murmurs of minions the poorly hidden whispers. The idiotic convictions, people speak freely feeling common ideas bind them but I wonder if there really aware of the feelings behind them. The fake smiles and well wishes hide bad thoughts and intentions and the knife hidden til a backs exposed and foe reveal their hearts real mission. I'm a lot sadder today than I've been when more focused. It's because when love is absent in the heart the world seems more hopeless. I know people love me but its distance and time between us. The sun shines and darkness fades and my tough skin peels away. I'm bare in the day time. Still strong but exposed. I understand my predicament but wish it'd come to a close. I wish there was some confusion about why or how or what. But sobriety breeds clarity and the reality is I'm stuck. Stuck here, making peace with life's pittance. A mighty lion shackled and forced to eat kibble. I long for the feast of prosperity, for the hunt and the harem. I long for the long day of bathing in the sun with a full belly. Mission critical is survival so self control in all facets is a must and this release is that by extension. My mental anguish can only be temporary it ends with the final pen strokes and creation must ensue! Because until I told you, you had no understanding of what I go through. But hope exists, and my spirit is steel. I am blessed with the belief that there is no task I am not able to dispatch. At my frail, most vulnerable, worst or incensed with desire to conquer at my wide eyed best. In still my best hope, my best, my eternal clearest choice. In creation I will find, have and prosper my freedom.

Ramsey Venner

Saturday, January 18, 2014

Mind Movie

I got inspired as 3:15am by a bright scene in ‘my minds’ movie theatre and I’d like to give you a play by play but I’ve kept my blogs fairly mild so I wrote a poem instead. I hope you enjoy.

My memories are vivid, I remember the kisses I remember the sights, sounds, and places we did it
I remember the whispers on my earlobe, and smiles on my neck
Your hands on my back, and the sweetness of your sweat
The moans in the morning, after bacon and eggs
Your fresh polished fingernails, making their way through my waves
How sometimes we were quiet, so we didn’t get caught
Or you roared like a lion, as I tickled your spot
I can’t sleep sometimes, cause your images haunt me
Lip gloss like candy, while mouthing that you want me
The attraction is haunting and I’m feeling aggressive
You fill me with wanting as we start a new session
You’re naughty little school girl and I’m the professor
Don’t trip, I know it’s cool girl, I love our connection

R. Venner

Tuesday, January 14, 2014


I learned something new about myself this week. And it seems like self discovery at this stage should have all but been over with, but it turns out there are still some secrets my old psyche has yet to reveal. In a circle of men, some young, some older, all different races and backgrounds we were having a group discussion about our greatest common bond, women. Warning ladies: I do my very best to give you true perspectives without being a douche, so take these words for what they are. I’m not speaking about any particular person or people; I’m just relaying the billet points from a circle of tough guys talking.

So the conversation started because a young brother made a comment about a woman on TV. It was all sex and slander. “Man, I bet she got a…..” or “Damn look at that…..” which drew some support and hell yeahs from everybody within earshot. Nobody knew this chick by name or hadn't ever seen her in other programs. But all the chatter spoke to this chicks sexual practices, proclivities, preferences, and possible favorite positions; crudely descriptive details about her undies and the girly parts beneath.

I listened with an uneasy pause in my veins. Anyone that knows me knows my……..hem….. appreciation for the ladies. But it turns out; listening to the crass commentary I discovered my appreciation for the fairer sex goes deeper than the physical. Don’t get me wrong the act of intermingling intimately is amazing. There hasn't, in the history of time, been an invention more awesome than the magic of bodies mashing. The complexities of the space shuttle don’t compare to the simplicity of the way we fit together. Hands down, it’s the best puzzle ever made of all times. But mechanics aside, my absolute best crushes or more to the point, actual experiences have been the ones where I was able to feel more than the moment, when I felt as much pleasure in my head + hurt as did with my other muscle.

But that didn't happen because I saw a phat ass at the club or managed to crack the code on some random new chick. The experiences that play in my thoughts and wake me up from a dead sleep are the ones where we connected in a way that’s deeper than anatomy coming together. You feel me? Where a conversation earlier in the day, or a glance at home or at work belayed naughty intentions; when the distance between lovers made desire dominant and anticipation intolerable. The experiences didn't happen with girls whose names I can’t remember, they came with the ones I got the closest to.

So back to the conversation. We all begin to bat around who was the hottest chick because videos were on. (Sidebar: Beyonce in the Drunk in Love video…WOW! No really WOW WOW! If I do say so myself, if I do say so myself). That turned into a discussion over women’s other attributes. Not just the physical but some of the other stuff: Honesty, loyalty, intelligence, ambition, nurturing, self respect, money handling; All very important pieces of the puzzle. So I concluded while the sexy sway of curvy hips or the beautiful bounce of the breasts or a bubble backside catches our attention initially. Sex without the rest is little more than mechanics, and nothing about robot sex sounds hot (Sorry sci-fi folks). I’m actually surprised “ability to cook” didn't come up immediately in the conversation, because bomb sex and a phat plate of delicious eats are the girlfriend holy grail in my book. But that’s just my inner phat kid talking.

So ladies it all started with gutter remarks and crass cocktails but in the end, the way men in this circle collectively feel is bravo and braggadocious until the greatness of your true worth comes to the surface. We love, respect and desire you. And even during guy talk we can’t help but admit it.

R. Venner

Sunday, January 5, 2014

If not you, then who?

This week in the gulag has been enlightening in a new way. My housing area has been changed and I'm in a dorm setting with a new group of youngsters in my immediate bed area. The first days with new people is always contentious. Everyone is figuring out their place in the social hierarchy and whether the new additions are friendly, to be feared, or forced out. We (the new group) didn't find any major discrepancies so the uneasy peace settled in. Within a couple of days true identities began to surface. A couple of my dorm mates, the youngsters, were more prone to social mixings. They were and are currently mostly in the company of others swapping war stories and playing the biggest whoppes game. A contest that prisoners engage in where each inmate in turn tries to bolster their rep and gain status by cooking up the biggest and best pot of bullshit about the lives they led before prison. Great fun but always leaves streaks of resentment in and stinky cocked eyebrows.

There are a couple of older dudes who are closer to bed ridden and tuned into every broadcast hour beaming through charters wires and satellite signals. These dudes are low key, don't talk a lot and are content in their own space.

Then there are the in-betweens, which is the group I fit into mostly. I don't mind the occasional visitor, but its just as good to be able to read, write, or watch a show without a crowd or block party on my book. The easy peace was shattered about day 4 , when one youngster got knee deep in the biggest whoppes games and started using the N-word with every other syllable he spoke in place of commas in his sentences and with the boisterous enthusiasm of Tigger from Winnie the Pooh spreading the news of an upcoming birthday party all over the 100 acre wood.

I'm not or I hate to be a fogie but, in the presence of white, Mexican and Native American men of different ages, the rant which was animated and filled with scandalous women and step by step instructions of how to consume multiple drugs and drinks before during and after driving, the constant N-word utters hurts my ears through headphones and my earnest attempts to watch Sleepy Hollow. So to spare the waning shreds of dignity us in-between brothers had cultivated before the young-en got going I pulled him to the side and tried my best to let him know how bad of a look that was for all of us. Him especially because judgments were passed as soon as his lips parted and that madness begin to flow out. For us as a whole, because if we didn't stop him it speaks to the groups collective acceptance of the term.

I know I know its 2014 and everyone should be over the N-word. Especially here, right? We're all supposed to be hardened thugs and hoods. The very picture of what the N-word is, now that's not it. hearing the young man go into a loud reckless tantrum filled with the N-word and bullshit stew was the most uncomfortable and embarrassing two minutes of the week. Its risky business injecting social corrections in this place because many youngsters don't have the filter or the basic rules of the road I learned before I left the safety of my mothers shadow. And calling them out for corrections could draw young misguided fire in my directions. But if not us, who?

Sitting by idly while the ignorance flows out is the same as engaging in the bad behavior. Even if the young man didn't get the lessons my mom taught me, Even if his peer group all act the same, even if my advice and urging's fall on deaf ears. If i didn't try, I might as well roll up my sleeves and dig into the vaults of my gin soaked episodes and show the cheeseburger children what a whopper really is.

Trust me there's 40-50 plus dudes here that do just that. But I learned from this one episode that even here, I, we and by extension you.... Can make a positive change in someones life. I'm not sure if that what I'm here for. But while I am here I'm positive its what I'm gonna do. You can be the example at work, in the mall, at the restaurant or while driving of a positive way to behave. Not saying be a busybody, but if you see the opportunity to be positive or help someone that may not see the picture you do, share some of your awesome with them.

If not us, then who?

R. Venner

Thursday, January 2, 2014

What's real?

What makes the real you appear? Many folks are quick to say I'm always real, or this is the real me, but I beg to differ. We wear more shades than the Sunglass Hut, more hats than the Lids store, more skins than the new Droid X, and try on new looks like the senior class reunion was right around the corner.

In today's America its a rare occasion that we are able to see the true stripes of the people around us. Your girlfriend watches her food intake or wont spend the night to keep the no bathroom lie in tact. Your boyfriend hasn't invited you to his place because then he'd have to introduce you to his wife and kids, or his keys only open car doors in which case the last time you were rolling around the lack seat you were also getting the grand tour of his living room.

I was a hero by accident one time. My friend Fire Pie fell in Lake Tahoe whole we were both rolling on pretty pink pills. I jumped over rocks and puller her out of the beautiful blue water before the tide pulled her away for good. But I've also had moments of shame so crippling its changed my actions and even inspired me to renew pledges to God or in really crummy situations, mainly over losses, where I couldn't scream and being angry would only get me in more trouble. So I pulled out  a pen and some paper and found a glimmer of light. No matter how odd the angle or how uncomfortable a position I'd have to put my big body in, and I'd write to ease the pain of that loss.

I lost again tonight. I lost the smile I brandish when people ask me how I;m doing. I lost the bounce in my step, I lost the euphoria I usually am so proud to show off. Because there is snow on the ground, carols on the radio, presents under the tree, and all the people I love and might love me, might as well be a million miles away. I cant get to them, I can call but phone calls end, and I wont be sad forever, but in this moment I'm sick.

The list is infinite of who I miss and where I'd love to be. But instead of going there let me say this. Don't take your family and friends for granted. Those fights and arguments, those quirks and bad food that drive you crazy are a pain now, but they can sometimes hurt worst when their gone.

R. Venner  

The Grey Area

This week in prisoneyland presented a unique set of challenges. For the most part the world outside has been a movie that I watch with a chuckle in my heart and a reluctant appreciation in my mind, because I know there's only so much I can do before the reality of being away makes itself known. But  decided to stop being a bystander because my heart and my duties as a father demanded. My daughter kick-started my weekend in about the best way possible. She lit up with joy (over the phone) while telling me about a triumph she has in sports at school. She had been having trouble running the mile in P.E. and it was causing her otherwise stellar report card to sag in an area that should have been the easiest "A" ever, in my opinion (her being the daughter of a pretty awesome athlete and all). The problem wasn't in ability, the problem was attitude and effort. I had no doubt that she could do the mile in the required time, or maybe even in "kid record time" if she practiced, but the challenge is trying to convey that message and belief through words when my physical self is stuck behind concrete walls and barbed wire. 

So I said the hell with my budget and maybe I'll have to find another way or do without my snacks for a while, but I increased my calls home and poured as much positivity and motivation into my mini-me as possible, and this past Thursday those seeds bare fruit. i called randomly to check on her and she gushed with "Daddy, guess what's" about the great time she had with completing the mile. She has trimmed 3 minutes off her time and granted she may have never actually tried to run the whole mile before, but improvement is everything. I'll take it. 

So I was feeling like the tallest mountain in the Sierras, knowing that giving my daughter love and praise, even over the phone, may have been the support and urgings she needed to step it up when a challenge presented itself. And then...... she told me she got her nose pierced. 

The point is the same from here, as it is in the world. I don't know of a playbook or instruction manual for parenting. There's really no script for being a strong father when my high moral ground is dressed in prison blues. 

No matter how cute f a fashion statement the face jewelry may be, the man that remembers first steps and sippy cups is having a hard time dealing with it. And from here, barking or making "Big Bad Daddy Threats" only shines a brighter light on how helpless a lot of thissituation is. For the record babygirl, I'm not on board.  You are beautiful- bright and you don't need to add piercings to shine. You are already the brightest star in the room. I have to admit world, this is a battle where I'm having trouble seeing a road map to victory. I'll keep fighting and praying and maybe this stupid thing will fall out while she's running the mile in "kid record time". One can only hope. Until later.....

R. Venner