tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23501737439367821132024-03-13T14:09:27.072-04:00Love Letters From PrisonNot sun-kissed and heaven sent.
We're all fallen soldiers and
forgotten angels,
of the WAR that keeps going on for ages...
Take notes because it's not going to get any better.
I keep writing it, in an unsent letter.
Dear hell can you save me?ghost writerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14235502921171340919noreply@blogger.comBlogger138125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2350173743936782113.post-48690013105068164312013-01-09T19:20:00.002-05:002013-01-09T19:20:53.388-05:0059• Freya"
"Well, I've made it to 59, that's pretty cool. So how do you like your new job? I really was glad to hear that, that came along for you. You stick with it, do your best like I know you will."
"So it has gotten warm here. We had 2 or 3 days of 105, but the wind always blows a little, so it's pretty pleasant. Lots of green. There is a cotton field outside the fence. They have a really big garden here, a lot of the boys are working on it. It looks like you can grow about anything on it."
"I went from 189-164 in about 8 days, all fluid. The pills I've been taking are finally taking a hold of me. They are going to take me to Abilene to see a specialist to see how far along the genotypes have gotten. There are 3 levels. I'll most likely be able to finally get treatment and get rid of anywhere from 50% to 80% of it. Rhonda has sent me a lot of materials on the matter. She is pretty smart, come to find out. She's getting ready to go back to work here soon. I sent you guys a big envelope filled with many things. You guys can split them up. There will probably be at least on thing each of you guys will like. Oh, and I made an attempt at Jackson Pollack. It's in there with the rest of that stuff. I've done a real good mural of Aztec art on my cell wall. I like it. You know, it's a funny thing. When I was a boy on the farm, my bedroom was smaller than my cell. The door that lead to it went through the bathroom, which was composed of a slop jar.
ghost writerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14235502921171340919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2350173743936782113.post-52685489092860454952013-01-09T16:53:00.001-05:002013-01-09T16:53:31.104-05:00All the what ifs...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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ghost writerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14235502921171340919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2350173743936782113.post-45874593626684868262013-01-08T10:32:00.001-05:002013-01-08T10:32:59.353-05:00BelovedTo my dearest Freya:
"Well, how the hell are you, baby doll? Haven't written in a while and I needed to. So, I hope you and the girls are doing good. I miss you so very much,. I know you don't have no time to write much. Well, I guess Annie is back in school. I hope she does good. Are you still working at the same place? How's your car doing? I know nothing but mindless questions, ha."
"So, did those alarms do any damage up that way? I guess Jimmy and Eurith got through it alright, and Jay also down in Florida. I don't envy him and his family living down there. I guess it was ok but if I to live below the sub-tropic line I think I'd go to the Caymans or Brazil. I guess that's just what'd I do, though."
"I'm sending some cut-outs. Do you recognize Hunter Thompson? You can always give them to Annie if you don't want them. I saw that Cheryl Crow thing I probably already told you about. I also saw the tribute to Johnny Cash. There was a real good duet with Cheryl. I don't watch many new shows, but I do like "Charmed". I still watch new and reruns of "3rd Rock from the Sun" and "Raymond". Oh well, so much for TV. They offer college courses, too.
"I've been working on my federal appeal and my sentence reduction. I may have to have a couple of letters from you and the girls on how much you need me to be there to help with the family. I'll send you some information as to what I need. I've got to have my sentence reduction in by December 31st, 1999, so hopefully you girls can be prompt when I ask for your help. I don't meant to sound funny or anything, but I'll need what I ask for right away. I hope you aren't too busy to help me. Thanks. If I can get my sentence broke to numbers I got a real good chance to bail out on my first parole date, 10/6/2006. If I get a small bottom number like 20 years, I'll be eligible for parole a lot sooner. Well see, but I have no criminal record, even though they tried to create one for me, so all this is in our favor. Wish me good luck."
"I know I'd like to be you guys out. I remember all the little things that we've done, and how we've been. There are not that many people who have done what and I have. Those 3 girls know things most never will know in a lifetime, and I believe this, and I am not ashamed. It was my life, and I make no apologies. I'm very proud of you all."
"I like Marilyn Mansons' new video. It's about the Kennedy Assassination. Speak of which, how about John Jr? Did I write about that in my last letter?"
"I'm waiting for "The Mummy" to come out on TV. Tonight they had "The Matrix".
"The Mexican Maidens pick and sing of Billy The Kid, the boy bandit king". - Ry Cooder
"I seen that crazy ass Keith on that Crow special "The Walking Dead", he said "I'm glad to be here, hell I'm glad to be anywhere". Ha, how true."
"It was a night, when your fingernails turn purple,
And you can't seem to clear a single hurdle,
Nothing lives in the marsh, but the myrtle,
And your life-giving force became infertile,
The hare is dead, long live the turtle!
Expect that letter for info soon
I love and miss you all very, very much!
Love always, Dale H
Happy-B Day!
"To My Dearest Freya Elizabeth",
"To whom I vow my love, to the very last breath
To whom I now never have have to guess
Whom I love more than I love myself
With you and I, these lives conceived
With you, the love believed
With thanks they were received
Now there aren't any others
No sisters, no brothers
Now it's just you and I
Now is the reason why
Beyond our earthly bounds we fly
Freya and I
With love of love beyond long gone
Is the name of the song
No one was ever wrong
The vows I made in my heart 25 years ago
Are the only things remaining of me that you know."Dale Harper, 7/5/96
ghost writerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14235502921171340919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2350173743936782113.post-78388087163234132762013-01-08T08:13:00.001-05:002013-01-08T08:13:48.791-05:00Love Birds<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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ghost writerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14235502921171340919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2350173743936782113.post-48678036325473229592012-03-18T22:14:00.000-04:002012-03-18T22:15:39.993-04:00is he in heaven now?Yes he is."He's in a diner right now eating cheeseburgers with his family."ghost writerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14235502921171340919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2350173743936782113.post-79652563715215620802012-03-18T14:24:00.001-04:002012-03-18T14:29:01.907-04:00Yummy Food<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AKhjLrFb9vI/T2YpZ-4iuSI/AAAAAAAAAWo/TNX8HDvhdI8/s1600/chelo-s-in-west-laramie.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AKhjLrFb9vI/T2YpZ-4iuSI/AAAAAAAAAWo/TNX8HDvhdI8/s320/chelo-s-in-west-laramie.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5721305902974417186" /></a><br />I have never found any other Mexican restaurant besides in Laramie, Wyoming that can compare to making the best stuffed sopapilla's with honey.I would travel over 3000 miles just to eat one of their enchiladas!ghost writerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14235502921171340919noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2350173743936782113.post-89251277183312777202011-12-20T13:38:00.004-05:002011-12-20T13:46:44.197-05:00Beyond ComparisonI’m very happy to share this wonderful gift, a letter that I received, to add to my blog today. Some people never really know what pure love is. It’s something we can’t see or hold. So even if you’re locked behind bars, nothing can take this kind of love away. Time- nor- death stops the heart- and- soul, from always knowing one another through the vast universe of possibilities. I adore the kind of rare love described in this letter, that reminds me of my parents. <br /><br />Dearest Julieanne,<br /><br />Hey, beautiful! I truly hope that this letter finds you in the absolute best of all circumstances these days. I'm doing well, drawing for several hours, and now I'm putting that to the side, so I can make for certain my love has something to smile about in her mailbox on this coming Saturday. I guess I'll just have to see if my sister shows up on Saturday, or if I'm even called up there. I'm pretty excited to see her, and I'm so eager to talk to her, telling her about you even further, and our relationship. Mainly speaking on the feelings that I possess for Julieanne Noel. I really can't wait to share with her, I'm sure I'll be a rambling fool, but expressing what is true is refreshing to me. I don't talk with any of the people that I'm around about very meaningful stuff, it can be best to keep it trivial, and not be the dude who is open, discussing his personal biz. I've never been that way. When I go outside, I'll do some routine (workout), and then literally spend the remaining hours looking off in the distance. Nothing is visible but the inner structure of the prison, this yard. However, a somewhat decent field of grass exists in the middle. I walk on a path that cuts through it every time I'm escorted to a visit. There is a clear view of the sky, it's a nice one. Sometimes I'll see these mini airplanes cutting through the sky, they get pretty close too. So, yeah.. you can always count on the fact I'm always thinking about you, especially whenever I'm out at yard. Breathing the same air you are, only a short drive apart physically. I imagine how instead of the idea that you are staring up at the same clouds somewhere near, that someday soon we will be together directly under the beauty of the sky, preferably an overcast one. For sure we'll be wearing our exploring pants those days, and take a drive to a place we can be alone, to do what we wish.<br /><br />Don't think I've forgotten about the requested flix of your room. The Hot Mama Lair, I'm only familiar with the corners of your bed at the moment, and I'm certain that there is so much more to observe. A vivid image of you sleeping in it will be even more so, even though I know it probably resembles a ball of blankets with you somewhere under there, sleeping away. I'd probably end up waking my wife from her rest, I know, I'm terrible, but that is the truth. I'd try my best to refrain so that you could get the necessary sleep, especially due to the erratic schedule you follow, where at times you are cleary lacking the precious snooze time. Believe me, I'll keep you exhausted/worn down/and tired plenty when I come home. For a long time, I promise you this.<br /><br />Even though I didn't get to see you as usual Saturday, I really hope that you will take the moment to realize how much it is I truly love you. I'll never expect anyone else to understand the strength of our bond and the passionate flames that rage from it. All I can do is wish upon them that they will be so lucky one day to of been granted the same amazing gift. I am rich beyond any wealth I've ever considered obtaining, I find myself happier in the middle of the night when I briefly awaken, than I've ever felt on the most pleasant days I've ever experienced when I didn't find myself locked behind a door. I'm not sure if I was ever searching for you, because I don't think I ever really believed you existed. I could see finding someone whom could offer the typical good times but never someone I'd feel incomplete or lost without. A woman I'm connected to on an emotional level that justifies the meaning of forever. You are as much part of me, as I am of myself, and that isn't something that simply changes in the blink of an eye, as so many things do in this world. We are family in every part of the definition, and we are a perfect family at that. We need nothing else, or more, being physically in reach is the only improvement. There is nothing I wouldn't do for you, for us. It's crazy how much more of a lifetime we have ahead to spend with each other, and then as fate has it, we will find each other again in the next. I feel as if that has just been proven in this one, by what occurred by our paths crossing as they did. There is absolutely no doubt that you are the one true love of my soul, the other half of my heart, and with it not present, what is held within my chest doesn't beat. I was so used to the cold touch of it and had figured out how to embrace comfort regardless of this. What you've done, naturally by the tender warmth of your love spilling light into where there was solely darkness, has awakened me to breathe life for the first time. To taste the essence of beauty, and to see the perfect gem that is nothing less than the single reason I'm assured that love is mine to own. You've given me everything, and I live to give you the same. Devotion is my path, Babe, one that I could run along with my eyes closed, and never lose direction to the destination our hearts call me towards. I never fathomed sitting here, anywhere, and telling a woman the things I express to you. I can imagine doing nothing else, and choose to say anything but is almost offensive to me. That is how I see it, to compare you to anyone - offensive, an incomparable notion that is as comical, as it is ridiculous. You are so much more special than you give yourself credit for, Babe. The understanding you'll come to see, is something I anticipate with great happiness, and by the time I can hold you in my arms, you'll hold a completely new belief of the woman you truly are. I think that will make us both incredibly full of smiles.<br /><br />I love you, and feel this love surround you and move throughout you today. I'm besides you nonstop, whispering every disclosure my heart releases, reminding you repeatedly, You are my air. Take care of my wife for me, and I'll see you soon, Ok.<br /><br />Love and Respect,<br />MEghost writerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14235502921171340919noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2350173743936782113.post-22011251895336038612011-11-18T08:26:00.000-05:002011-11-18T08:27:21.915-05:00LifeSoon we all find out, that we realy mean nothing in the scheme of it all... <br /><br />"There are those among us who will find so much satisfaction in the countless trivial and vulgar amusements of a crude people that they have no time for the joys of the mind. There are those who are so closely shut up within a little round of petty pleasures they that have never dreamed of the fun of reading and conversing and investigating and reflecting."ghost writerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14235502921171340919noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2350173743936782113.post-81031448769266158072011-10-18T01:52:00.001-04:002011-10-18T02:01:07.704-04:00miss you dad...<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qMBtRixs-E8/Tp0UpXHaGSI/AAAAAAAAAWY/MSgLAGzKUx0/s1600/scan0003.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 234px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qMBtRixs-E8/Tp0UpXHaGSI/AAAAAAAAAWY/MSgLAGzKUx0/s320/scan0003.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5664706607114230050" /></a>ghost writerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14235502921171340919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2350173743936782113.post-74663606024525427362011-06-18T12:02:00.000-04:002011-06-18T12:04:08.933-04:00Happy Father's Day<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wi_BayxHafU/TfzMTUpqsjI/AAAAAAAAAWQ/6Qth7cQb920/s1600/SoS_Tarot.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 231px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wi_BayxHafU/TfzMTUpqsjI/AAAAAAAAAWQ/6Qth7cQb920/s320/SoS_Tarot.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5619591067384590898" /></a>ghost writerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14235502921171340919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2350173743936782113.post-29890204205278360402011-04-13T16:22:00.001-04:002011-04-13T16:22:53.096-04:00April 13thHappy Anniversary mom and dad ♥ghost writerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14235502921171340919noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2350173743936782113.post-10886084228518599032011-03-28T07:42:00.000-04:002011-03-28T07:43:08.649-04:00Human Emotions and WeaknessesBig corporations and laws make money off human emotions and weaknesses, knowing damn well that most of us will fail in the system because it's basically set-up so we all get humiliated and bullied into following orders. I will never stop fighting for human rights no matter what. I might not have a lot money but I do have these words from my heart, to leave behind some truth of my existence.ghost writerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14235502921171340919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2350173743936782113.post-65019102308359538072011-03-20T10:33:00.002-04:002011-03-20T10:40:11.985-04:00Wheat Penny CollectionThe best way to learn how to count is by twos dad always said. With my dad’s wheat penny collection, I counted-and-counted. He would fill coffee cans with them and tell me about how his grandfather used to have a huge collection and they would be worth something someday, I would barely be able to carry the pennies because the cans were so heavy and I would spill them all over the floor. My dad also showed me the numbers of life through a deck of playing cards. They say that we can choose our own destiny even though ironically it seems the path we end up on is far from a so-called normal one in life. We were one of the only families we knew that never had any money but still traveled fairly legal across country and back so many times. I lost track of schools we had enrolled in. We never knew any different in this country it seems that moving like a gypsy is just another process. Our father believed in a few good things a man only needed; his work boots, hot coffee, and tool box. <br /> <br /><br /> We would move so fast that the same top ten songs would be playing on the radio when we moved again. I remember when it was the song “Fly like an Eagle” by The Steve Miller Band “Time keeps on slipping, slipping, slipping, into the future.” These were the little things that got me through being homesick, anytime I wanted I could just close my eyes and be on the island in my mind. I used to ask my dad “Where are we going this time?” When he was in his driving mode he didn’t want to be bothered. So soon I stopped even asking where we were going anymore because it seemed he never knew. Being happy is a state of mind that people just can’t seem to understand if you don’t have any money. <br /> <br /> I found out early in life that people get very spiteful when they encounter real love or beauty of any kind with hope and happiness, when you come from another part of the country or being an outsider no matter where you are in life or who you are, it is very hard to every really fit in. It’s like playing the part of a role for a movie always being on the scene never missing a beat. Growing up out west, I was lucky enough to be riding horses and playing basketball with my dad. We seemed to have everything that most families didn’t have I noticed. My parents always stayed together and others didn’t. My father’s dearest muse was my mother. Our lives were always filled with so much motion. I never stopped to notice how my parents never really even talked about their own families back east. That was just the way we had to live detached we were nomads following maps where ever they would take us. <br /> <br /> We used to have such simple times with three hundred sixty- five days on sunlight playing games and having picnics in the Rocky Mountains. Our parents would always keep up on their target practice, but this life didn’t come without certain tragic events that will make it hard to ever understand or choose which side to be on. This story doesn’t really have a trigger-happy ending and it doesn’t even make sense. It’s just our life and what happens when we always tried to live off the grid. Mom always found a way to lay in the sun even if it was under the sky light or by a big window. I don’t think she ever knew how much light she has though now or then. Our dad always did his best to be there for us, picking us up after school and taking us roller-skating or for the movies. He taught us to be so grateful for everything in life as my mother always showed us how much we had, by making us homemade gifts all the time. <br /> <br /> She would sew until her fingers bled and stay up all night to make sure all the toys were sewn before Christmas. I always loved watching her sew and bake as she worked herself to death though. I began to wonder when our parents would ever catch a break in life. It seemed no matter what we always ended up being the ones that had to move or always thinking we should go somewhere else, but why were we always really on the run and why did our beauty and love have everything and nothing all at once? That is something I still will never have any answers for. I always wondered why everyone thought I had the coolest parents. Being wild and crazy wears off and nobody wants to take you seriously when you get older though, they think you are just some burnt-out used- up has been that doesn’t know a damn thing in life just because you might not have any money, doesn’t mean you are stupid. <br /> <br /> Everyone else had fancy lunch boxes in school but I had the coolest mom in the world that would hand -paint my brown-lunch bags the night before school everyday. One year I went a little crazy with the construction paper. I decided that if I couldn’t have a Christmas tree I would make one out of paper. All the paper in the world doesn’t matter though unless it’s the kind you can spend. But in my world I never even knew what that was only compassion and feeling loved. I spread my paper construction hearts everywhere I went from school-to-school always cutting paper-hearts. I thought if I left enough hearts it might catch on and everyone would finally have one. Most the time kids would just make fun of me for always cutting paper-hearts. When we never lived beyond our means we lived wealthier than the richest man in the world. Being human is not about having more than everyone else. We are all supposed to help one another not judge people from their ripped up jeans or long hair. <br /> <br /> My dad always said the real American dream was eating cheeseburgers and french-fries watching the fireworks. Having barbeques in the backyard and driving down the highway with the freedom to do so. Now that I am adult and find myself in hard times again. I see how my father had it when he must have gone for help all those times and had to suffer in humiliation. When we try to get help if you’re even lucky to get any in the first place, we must go through the whole process of being investigated and looked down on like an animal that can’t take care of yourself and family. When things would get really hard for us my dad always saved the wishbones from baked chickens we had. We would respectful make a wish as we broke the wishbone. Sometimes I think my dad would let me win and other times he would win hoping that his wish would come true, to just be able to take care of his family. <br /> <br /> No matter what anyone says he was really a very kind, loving, and honest devoted family man, but I believe that the system gives us brain damage after awhile. Breaking us all down like just another number for the corporations to do what they want with the little man and as the big boss gets richer quicker we are left out in the cold without any food to eat. Treating us all like we are a dime of a dozen and telling us we have too much confidence in one-hand and stupefying us with mind numbing news and media to let us down and bring us up in the next moment? They spend so much on the drug war in this country. Why does it seem like the drug stores are legally getting away with being the biggest drug dealers in town? Whether it’s by street drugs or legally, one out of three Americans are consumed by synthetic chemicals. Instead of building more rehabs and schools they build more prisons.ghost writerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14235502921171340919noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2350173743936782113.post-47396828982194108682010-08-05T11:57:00.001-04:002010-08-05T12:27:49.233-04:00Lock-DownTo My Dearest Freya,<br /> <br /> Hey baby, well it’s a funny thing, that I got locked down on the 4th of July and of course they all move you after lock down. I get moved over to the FPOD which is where Raphel is pretty funny alright. But also this old con that is here from the joint under protective custody he is involved with lawsuits against a big company for millions. So I’ll talk to him, they have him out of the joint because he could be hurt very easy. His lawyer is Gerry Spence, my bunkie is Buck, and he is 55 and pretty famous. He wrote two books and some songs. His lawyers Gerry Spence he’s going to talk to him Tuesday, he will give him my message. He says he’ll talk to me for sure, that’s the kind of case he likes you know. It’s a case that he might like it’s between me and you, tell no one but the girls. The alibi is almost about together and the note I showed you at the window, is the only thing that I remember. I know you’ll say the truth. So I’m not worried the letter this time should set up. You know what we are dealing with. So I say lets dance. <br /><br /> I hope you can get wheels soon and I hope you get your driving license also. The only thing as I write so much. I forget what I’ve said. I hope you don’t mind hearing me over and over. Oh baby please say you will be with me. In the cell block I can lie on my bunk and see that TV. I could’ve done worse. This cell block is mostly men, no boys. After this pen runs out it will be pencil only after this page for the next, I’ll be here and until released. I’m on the other side of the building on the north side. So I can’t see the church anymore, which I don’t like. Plus I’m on the top bunk I don’t like that either any way you know all make the best of it. This is the block where all the snitches are, so I have to be really careful. <br /><br /> That guy I’m with over here says if anything goes wrong and I go down he’ll meet me at the gate. He will make it so there are no problems. The word is that I’m the clean one. I’ve already got a spot if necessary no one can stop the truth. I am not guilty. He says he has a place in Nebraska. Gabe is here that they moved him out as soon as they move to me in. maybe I’ll see you soon, it won’t be long and we’ll be gone. I have no other that I could hold on to like I hold on to you. I hope you believe me at least. I want no other. I love you baby and hope someday you get my letters I have written. If I won’t ever be there ever again. I want you to at least have my letters it is the only thing we have for now. I help you’ll wait for me Baby. I can’t think of anything but the times we’ll have soon very soon. I hope you’ll still want to be with a little farm boy. You will always be my baby doll. <br /><br /> One of buck’s books is called, "Lovers Fighter Freight Train Rider and the other one is called, "Mama’s Boy is Prison Bond". So we will see me how it goes on the case. It is a good case for a lawsuit you know. Well I know this is getting pretty old with all this law bullshit. I wish we were able to build that little house and grow a garden. Now I’m afraid. I won’t be there for you. Please remember who you are, never guess that. Alright mama, I know you. Everything will be fine. I love you, from my very soul, and I’m crying… <br />Love Always, Dale H.ghost writerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14235502921171340919noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2350173743936782113.post-50009594403086039062010-08-04T11:04:00.001-04:002010-08-04T11:06:05.667-04:00Love Beyond<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MC_xRCdxjN4/TFmBsBdmZZI/AAAAAAAAAVM/7O8BPjfbWFE/s1600/scan0005+copy.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 226px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MC_xRCdxjN4/TFmBsBdmZZI/AAAAAAAAAVM/7O8BPjfbWFE/s320/scan0005+copy.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501571013116585362" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MC_xRCdxjN4/TFmBlz9MA_I/AAAAAAAAAVE/Lky6xoDHTPg/s1600/scan0007.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 246px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MC_xRCdxjN4/TFmBlz9MA_I/AAAAAAAAAVE/Lky6xoDHTPg/s320/scan0007.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501570906411762674" /></a>ghost writerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14235502921171340919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2350173743936782113.post-69762313712181963602010-08-04T09:35:00.010-04:002010-08-04T14:39:29.272-04:00cell mates<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MC_xRCdxjN4/TFltXMl-cfI/AAAAAAAAAU8/au7r4t4MaUU/s1600/scan0004.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 302px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MC_xRCdxjN4/TFltXMl-cfI/AAAAAAAAAU8/au7r4t4MaUU/s320/scan0004.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501548665094697458" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MC_xRCdxjN4/TFls6gqbFmI/AAAAAAAAAU0/nV-MOJeEUEM/s1600/scan0003.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 286px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MC_xRCdxjN4/TFls6gqbFmI/AAAAAAAAAU0/nV-MOJeEUEM/s320/scan0003.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501548172265854562" /></a><br />Was Matthew Shepard really Murdered during a robbery over drugs, not a Hate Crime?<br /><br />Dear Freya,<br />There is this expose reporter from New York City that has been in contact with me for some time now. He came to me through Aaron McKinney; he has been working on the corruption, in the Wyoming justice system, you know the threats, intimidations, phony charges, and bought testimonies. Anyways he asked me if he could talk to you. I asked him to assist you in publishing your book the last touch. Here is his phone number call until you get a hold of him. Please call this man! Love Always, Dale H.ghost writerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14235502921171340919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2350173743936782113.post-56587532753963010522010-07-14T08:44:00.000-04:002010-07-14T08:45:54.642-04:00Dead Roses<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MC_xRCdxjN4/TD2xb2TvCXI/AAAAAAAAAUk/voEpnuJaY3Y/s1600/lucky+cigg.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 232px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MC_xRCdxjN4/TD2xb2TvCXI/AAAAAAAAAUk/voEpnuJaY3Y/s320/lucky+cigg.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493742212454746482" /></a>ghost writerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14235502921171340919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2350173743936782113.post-79131696862625709302010-07-13T17:16:00.002-04:002010-07-15T10:26:05.182-04:00Closed HandWe’ve seen some things people do not know. I have only one thing in my mind and in my sight you and my family, and love you and god only knows how much. The past is gone now there’s no time for anything, but life. Just be the real Freya, and stand up. I’m not being allowed to help my family anymore. I know you remember me walking 8 miles to for cigarettes and food; it was always an honor for me. A man like me would do that for his love and for a woman like you. I lived in a time where you don’t ask, you don’t take, you don’t beg, you just do. Thank you Freya for waiting by the window at home for me. Thank you for giving me unconditional love, please allow me to apologize, to our family and my daughters, who I love and you my beautiful baby doll. I love you and I know you tear up as bad as me when we see each other and than are out of reach and out of touch. <br /><br />I guess I’m just a sentimental as anyone. My grandfather did a good job raising me. He wasn’t like most people today. I feel pretty stupid not seeing how things go on between humans. I would not have been as fortunate, as I have been all these years if it was not meant to be. I have been so lucky to be in the company of such good fine girls, as you and your daughter’s. God has truly blessed me with your presence. Don’t expect letters on paper from someone who writes to me on the wire. You know I’m reading your thoughts. Come back Martha come back. But I can’t help but to put it on paper to say right out and I can’t help it to say things no doubt, especially to you.<br />“Goodbye ruby Tuesday of my darling let me go “<br /><br />There is always some other line that comes to mind. I really can tell this is a lot for you, but you’ll be able to hold up to life now. Now that you where you are, I hope I’m the one you want, just be proud of who you are, I want you to be the one who’s there. When you blow your top, and guess what I will be baby doll, cause I am, cause I am, I will be damned. Because I am .there was once a place on a farm .where I learned I could do no harm. Where I live life as a charm. I awoke to the roosters’ alarm. Now the things that I became. Are what I am. It’s like the love of the land, and I want you to know and understand. How simply it is to be a grand. Have the boy was soon to be a man, and you to be the woman on my hand. <br /><br />Love always Dale<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Now there are a lot of the things each one needs <br />The most right in my closed hand <br />You don’t look down <br />And don’t look up <br />No damn number <br />And don’t ask the open hand <br />Who is the plumber? <br />And don’t ask for what you need the most<br />The answer is told by a ghost <br />As the frost covers all the lovers <br />Of the earth <br />In my closed hand <br />Was the first thing each one needs the worst <br />It’s a blessing not a curse <br />Nothing could be greater<br />It’s the new world translatorghost writerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14235502921171340919noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2350173743936782113.post-1051279453609057452010-07-13T15:43:00.000-04:002010-07-13T15:45:15.238-04:00what lies within the truth...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MC_xRCdxjN4/TDzCKq8yfhI/AAAAAAAAAUc/DXzyuWLsnDM/s1600/lie.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 203px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MC_xRCdxjN4/TDzCKq8yfhI/AAAAAAAAAUc/DXzyuWLsnDM/s320/lie.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493479134068899346" /></a>ghost writerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14235502921171340919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2350173743936782113.post-34885342889986170052010-07-13T11:23:00.000-04:002010-07-13T11:24:52.679-04:00Indeed<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MC_xRCdxjN4/TDyFN7nR_xI/AAAAAAAAAUU/B84_Tid9T4M/s1600/scan0007.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 234px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MC_xRCdxjN4/TDyFN7nR_xI/AAAAAAAAAUU/B84_Tid9T4M/s320/scan0007.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493412119872405266" /></a>ghost writerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14235502921171340919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2350173743936782113.post-52035173012542745722010-07-13T09:46:00.001-04:002010-07-13T09:46:45.525-04:00Horsehair CrossesDid DePree ask you anything about Buck Whitley or even mention his name? You ask Faye if she can even remember anything about Mr. SKaggs either. It would really be some assistants if they did. You think about it. Make sure you tell me if they did or not. Well anyway it’s good to hear from you. I have started to collect more CDs; do you have something of your own to play them on? I’m glad to hear the groups that you are listening to. I get to see someone MTV but only sometimes. I get to see Ren and Stimpy every other week on TV, we watch family matters and I like that new show men behaving badly and also of the third rock. There are these two little sparrows and sit on my window. Wish I could cut a hole in the screen and start putting bread crumbs out there for them. If I did that they would say I was trying to escape .I sent your mom one of my crosses, hope she likes it. <br /><br />The food we got today for lunch could come under the fifth and eighth amendment’s to the constitution one being sentences without due process and two cruel and unjust punishments. You just have to see it, boy is a good thing I have some cookies. They do give us of crackers for our soup. so I save up about a dozen and when I go down for supper I get a bunch of butter pads and that’s what I like, butter and crackers. For the super they give soup here, it can only be described by its color, you know let’s say, light green or off browns. I’d better stop all this complaining, anyways you make sure you say hello to frank, when you see him. Tell your mom I love her and I won’t write no more if she’s don’t want me to. Tell daisy in Cory I said hello, I have wrote a couple of letters to Jimmy and Eurith, but I still don’t have a buck yet to buy the stamps now. <br /><br />I remember that James you’re talking about, the one who spoke real good Spanish. All of the sudden it dawned on me who you saw. Is Daisy still keeping in touch with Jay? I hope so try to remember to say something to him when she calls him. I hope he’s doing all right. I tried to put together a book of all my poems. I’ve got plenty on my mind I have wrote about 12 of 13 good ones so far, when I get on the yard I’m going to put some of them on the prison paper and may try to get a job when I get on the yard . It won’t be hard work just making things with horsehair. All right that’s pretty much all I have to say right now. Not really I could talk to you until the end of days. Please make sure that Faye gets it together with some of the things I’ve asked her to do for me, like find out about giving me transferred back to Maine Penitentiary. Thanks for the letter, I loved it. I will be sure to send poems later on. Love Always Dale your Dadghost writerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14235502921171340919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2350173743936782113.post-75488317876276171802010-07-13T09:18:00.001-04:002010-07-13T09:18:30.723-04:00Life is like Jell-OYou all had to grow up to fast that’s the way it is sometimes. The ball just keeps on rolling, enjoy your time. Don’t rush out too hard don’t fall for any dumb shit, baby. Remember outsiders, stay golden, stay golden, the best days are ahead don’t stop now. Life is like Jell-O, in order to eat it; you have to catch it first. <br /><br />“It’s your cat now Lewis.” Pet Semetaryghost writerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14235502921171340919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2350173743936782113.post-1114259833131960382010-07-12T10:44:00.000-04:002010-07-12T10:45:07.505-04:00The Wall<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MC_xRCdxjN4/TDsqZbAWAJI/AAAAAAAAAUM/32ChJlAF61E/s1600/the+wall.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MC_xRCdxjN4/TDsqZbAWAJI/AAAAAAAAAUM/32ChJlAF61E/s320/the+wall.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493030786742747282" /></a>ghost writerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14235502921171340919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2350173743936782113.post-82451221866858909502010-07-12T00:09:00.001-04:002010-07-12T00:09:25.664-04:00Dale the PlumberDale the plumber, had a daughter named Faye <br />She was presented to him on his birthday <br />The bond was made in heaven <br />There’s no more to say <br />He loved before that moment <br />and more each day <br />We grew up together, taking chances at every bend <br />He said the road goes on forever <br />and the party never ends <br />She said I love you daddy <br />and I forgive you for your sins <br />now tonight in this prison cell <br />I weep in my heart for my daughter’s <br />and in my heart I weep <br />But for my birthday gift, given to me <br />by a ghost <br />It’s for her, I truly weep the most… <br />Long Dale Harper 12/25/96ghost writerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14235502921171340919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2350173743936782113.post-39115277839610782382010-07-12T00:05:00.001-04:002010-07-12T00:07:31.650-04:00Force the ForceYour letter to the White House was well thought out, and I agree that all the children in America within these shores deserve a chance in education. Though what the government would rather do is have a bunch of the immigrants come across the borders. To become drug dealers, so they can increase the police force and arrest them all, in order so the cops can do as they please. If this country spent as much money on education, as they did on force the force. It would only be half is much is what is needed. The government believes that they can stop a civil war, by force now. but the real civil war is the war they are inflicting on us as citizens, and our rights now have been gone right in front of us. <br /><br />"I’ve always liked Northeast Harbor this time of year, and it always reminds me of St. Michael’s Maryland in Another time and Place. All these tourist towns, they all seem to grow and shrink, into one time at different seasons of the year."<br /><br />Dale Harperghost writerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14235502921171340919noreply@blogger.com0