Ghetto Voices

The writings of Jim Janas — “Jimmy j” — Detroit, 2000–2010

The bio of Jimmy j.

Jim Janas
AGE: Doesn't matter, born and raised by poverty. If you wish me old it will be so, if you wish me young, so be it. RACE: Doesn't matter. When you're poor, what the fuck do you care what color anyone is. I refuse to wear that tag color of skin. EDUCATION: Not much. Tragedy took that away from me. As you can tell, my vocabulary is limited. MEMORIES: My mother and father fought all the time, too much beer. My mother trying to commit suicide, I was 5 or 6 at the time. Being evicted one house after the other. Lived in seven different houses between the age of 7 and 15. Plus living in the car scrounging for food to eat. FAVORITE HOUSE: Living above a beer store on Warren and Alter road in Detroit. I was 15. I already loved beer. RELIGION: Every god is a good god, matters not what religion. MONEY: Money is not a goal, it's an obsession. An adiction to have more and more. I don't play that game. GOALS: Showing people the other side of life where one prospers while the other is in despair, hoping they can see love there. My only goal is for children to achieve their most no matter where they come from. HATES: Two faced people who can only see one side of every problem. MISTAKES: many ADDICTIONS: many DATE OF BIRTH: Both the same; I died the day I was born, I await my birth as I write this. Because until I find out who or what I am, my life cannot begin. BROTHERS, SISTERS, and CHILDREN: All of you who go to my website and understand; you see the love. NOTE: In the ghetto amongst the dope houses and garbage both laying in the street and walking the street; many damn good people live. Never forget that when you view my site. Many of the dope houses would not be in business if they had to sell only to neighborhood junkies. It's the white faces from the suburbs where they make much of their money. Living in the ghetto can be an addiction of its own.

Poem of the Month

As it stood on the site in June 2002.

I'm A Poet A masturbater of words As I masturbate, words come out The words turn into drugs, addicted to them I write, I write again and again As you look at me what, what do you see Close your eyes and really see me The words, the words their thunderstorms in my brain I cannot refrain Can you feel me, can you really, really feel me Drugs, drugs they're everywhere, fuck I know them well I use them too That's why I'm talking to you Murder, robbery, children dying, gang violence, poverty Despair lack of education I have been there before, only to return again and again Jails I have seen the inside of them Schools never spent much time in one Too busy hanging on corners Having what I thought was fun Education, education I preach to the young Don't be a fuck up like me, get one We are all slaves to this corporate dream Companies go broke That parachute scheme executives make Damn that's no joke They end up with millions While the rest of us go broke They make so much more, by paying us less It's time we make them take the drug test I look at this new downtown All these white faces, all around Fuck where did they all come from They never lived in this town Ever notice how may white coppers there are Never lived here, they came from afar Let's write of Africa, you heard, what the millennium Lady had to say No water, but slavery still there, everywhere What's the matter America, no oil there What of priest, inside a zipper is their Last Supper Little boys suffer Looking for God Instead got a blow job What of nuns, damn don't they have fun I'd like to do one So much more to write about This hypocrisy we see, you and me Yes I'm a masturbater of words My pen and my peter With two hands left and right I can do both tonight Love Jimmy j 6/02