This section publishes creative contributions mostly from currently and formerly incarcerated people. It includes short-stories, poetry, creative nonfiction, art, and much more.
If you have something creative to submit to us, we would love to read it, or see it, and publish it in About Time – please write to us!
After all his team had been through to get here, physically and mentally, the farm boys were disrespecting them big time. “Only one way to shut their gobs,” he thought with venom.
When the light returns and the long night fades, and dawn slips soft through shadowed shades, you feel the hush before the day – a whisper of grace that finds its way.
They expect us to play ball, but always move the goalposts. They expect us to hold boundaries, the same they overstep. They want us to abide, but break their own rules.
Christmas day without my family, was such a terrible burden to bare, no Christmas tree, decorations, no presents, no laughter, no joy, no Christmas fare.
Every feeling they felt, the other feels too, trust is a must and communication too. Together as one, soulmates we are destined, forever to each other we are.
The big idea behind this painting is to display a very strong, tough Australian sportswoman. Through her athleticism she has helped to inspire a huge number of young Australian girls to take up soccer as their favourite game.
As I come back to jail, I walk through that familiar door, I promised my mum and kids, I wouldn’t break the law.
Behold my friend, I am heroin, known by all as the destroyer of men. From where I came no one knows, a far away place where the poppies grow.
It’s been almost 10 years now, since my life has changed. For better or worse, nothing will ever be the same.
I fall, twisting and spinning in duress, a darkness complete, vast and eternal. An emptiness felt, thick as molasses, noises and sounds rend my mind infernal.
Do not cry by the window, gazing out to the sky. For I’ve not only left you, I’ll never say goodbye.
Window Pane is a reflection of childhood memories, looking outside of my bedroom, locked away.
Nowhere to go, as the new day is here? Holding on as the last threads, of my dreams disappear.
Givin’ my mum a hug, even for just a second. That’s worth a lot, worth the world I reckon.
‘Tis just another day behind the wall, with musters here and musters there, it surely wearies, one and all.
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Help us get About Time off the ground. All donations are tax deductible and will be vital in providing an essential resource for people in prison and their loved ones.
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