Going Through Changes

By Noah Coffin

Transcribed by Heinz in Vienna

As an oppressive heatwave bakes the eastern seaboard from Texas clear up to Maine this July, the reports of at least 6 deaths – many of them in Maryland – stand testament to the rising threat of radical and dangerous climate change here in America. It’s not yet August, the worst of summer heat here in Texas, and as I lay on my floor in a puddle of water against the heat – for the first time I wonder “Will this summer claim me forever in ist grasp?”

People out beyond the razor wire are failing to survive, and I believe it’s largely due to them not realizing how serious those few differences are.  By not preparing their bodies for the change, triple digits in Texas’ summer forecast is  the norm, however, the humidity and heat index are prematurely  high and deadly.

People clear up in New York city are suffering something rare. High 90s temperatures with a heat index up to 110. For anyone that has not battled with such conditions the cost of ignorance can literally be fatal as those deaths show. Drinking water helps but electrolytes are also important. Being worn down by deadly heat makes you lethargic and giving in to that  while not properly hydraded can be your last good night.

Being overheated and throwing cold water on yourself is said to cause heat stroke, so avoid that. This is  all to say – it’s no joke, extremes in temperature will kill you!

For those of you here  behind the razor wire I can’t  stress this enough: put that fan on low. Get down on that concrete! As long as you’re still breathing there’s hope so keep fighting. (Yes I said put that fan on low. The friction caused above that speed is like trying to cool down using a blow drier).

For those of you beyond the razor wire who are reading this little rant?  I’m totally green man, but whether you are gonna put the cheeseburger down or  I think planting some trees will help make a difference, one thing I know for certain. Folks better make  like a boyscout and “always be prepared.”

Changes are on the horizon but don’t take my word for it. Just  ask those folks up in New York City all running around with wet towels on their head against a heat that those in Arizona are used to! Go check out the record of staggering numbers of grey whale carcasses  dotting America’s western shores.  I only could imagine the sight as my whole universe for over 8 yrs has been a 5×9 ft box with a radio that gets bad reception and the word  from selfless supporters (Love and soli).  In that time alone the world I hear of now and the one I left are so  different it’s wild!

Sadly what all remains unchanged is: greed, hate and an oppressor at every opportunity.

Well! Back to myh shallow pool of tepid water for a further study of survival folks. Everyone out there start getting ready because this is just the tip of the iceberg. Be cool – literally.


Eastham Unit
2665 Prison Road #1
Lovelady, TX 75851

You may also contact Noah via JPay.com

Paying Debts, Clinging to Sanity

Comrade Kado
Comrade Kado

The sure way to test the depths of boundaries of any person’s love is in suffering. By it, both love and the opposite of love are exposed in raw, unmasked & shameless form. The suffering either brings us profound appreciation for the lovers we’ve known or spend fantasy in, while on the opposite end of the spectrum any anger, spite or discontent burns from an ember to a raging inferno …

Of all the sufferings to know or become intimate with, that of solitude reigns supreme. The silent suffering of voices which merely echo back at you in a place of existence untouched by any form of humanity; laughter, affections …

A man, woman or child held fast in the maw of despair or adversity can find refuge in the companionship, the connection and collectiveness of even others whom suffer such ill fates …

I’m struck with with the thought of slave songs. Hymns sang collectively throughout the toils of forced labor which lifted the spirits of the subjugated bringing some solace to the tormented.

Scars and a Sunset, by Noah Jack Coffin, painting from crushed color pencil and facial moisturizing cream – made for Heinz Leitner ©2019

Solitary confinement works so terribly well because the only company you have is your mind which you’re in constant struggle against. You let down defenses. And the mind snaps under the pressure of sensory deprivations, and the torture tactics of your captors becoming just another mad laughter of bellowing outrage dancing gleefully, mischievously, along the surface of an age-old dungeon in South Texas’ summertime …

The polluted water must be choked down in copious amounts in the 100 days of hell each year as the temperatures inside this redbrick oven soar 20 to 30 degrees above the heat outside. Holding onto it long after the natural world has cooled rendering us unto listless, sweating, saline puddles until just before sunrise as the process repeats … It’s no wonder why shaved is the expression amongst longtime residents as lack of nutrition, tainted water and zero sunlight will rob any of their vitality over a course of time.

Amongst all the other dehumanizing atrocities enacted upon the confined, a receding hairline is an added weight upon the shoulders of an over-laden slave to a corrupt system of justice. Like those slave songs, the small freedom of shaving the shame away is some solace … The effects of solitary are often permanent.

Long after paying any debt to society is over, the ones forced to endure such torture remain broken. It is said that just a single 30-day period is ruled inhumane, that even such a time can alter your mindset…

I’ve been in solitary since 2014. I hurt no one, never attempted escape, and the only way out of this hell is by the approval of a biased (STG) security threat group sergeant who has his own show answering to no one, warden included. His distaste for my activism and outcry concerning these horrid conditions, the administration’s disregard for humanity and our fights as humans have made me the very object of his personal, vindictive sadism. Richard Stowe – an angry kid with a magnifying glass, and we’re the ants and object his malice … My only hope is to come out of this with my ability to love still intact & not twisted by bitterness borne of the cruelties this world’s “good guys” are free to enact upon us without restraint. The act of torture is a grievous crime of which someone gets much more prison time than the [judges?] given to me. But that torture is sanctioned & condoned by Texas justice.

This is to any who’ve seen this article. You’re the only defense I have against this torture. To make a difference you can log on to TDCT.gov website and look up Region 1 director Michael Upshaw. If you’ll flood him with emails that for over 3 years I have been trying to enter G.R.A.D. under Richard Stowe (STG) on Eastham Unit to be released from seg. But he won’t let me. This is retaliatory torture for my work in exposes.

Also I never ask for support but want to thank those who have done this as it is needed and deeply appreciated. Remember this comrades – your efforts no matter how great or small are the collective tide which destroys the fortress of the elites whom in some way confine us all … Don’t just email once, flood them, tell your friends!!!

Love and solidarity for ever!

Eastham Unit
2665 Prison Road #1
Lovelady, TX 75851
(or write him via Jpay.com)

Where do you stand?

Comrade Kado
Comrade Kado

by Noah “Kado” Coffin (contact: see below)

A hungry child’s waiting cry pierces the heavy dark reverberating off the crumbling brick and broken glass … This punctuated by the yelps of feral dog that’s been ghosting me in the shallows … All mainly skin, ragged bones and yellow teeth – no doubt once an adored pet, though tonight it merely is a reflection of the surrounding decay. Much like the tormented elderly vagrant seen huddling to their 40-oz like lovers embraced … who wear their years in the lines upon their faces like sagging, grotesque tree rings … one look into those haunted, hollow eyes is enough to age your own soul …

The scuffling of shoes followed by the clank and clatter of spent beer bottles sets me on edge just as a menacing voice challenges me from a darkened gloom in a dilapidated breeze way. “Help! You lost white boy?!” shadowy figures emerge and advance upon me as I respond in what I hope sounds like a confidant voice, “Man, I know where I’m at.” Heart doing acrobatics as my suddenly clammy hand closes tightly around the short length of pipe I have hidden in the front pocket of my hoodie…

Like ravening wolves the neighborhood cliques and gangs prowl in search of prey. In their very own streets – unaware that consequently their actions make them equal to, or – worse than those elitist assholes who ensure that these ghettos exist …

Comrades, I’ve been stabbed, jumped, beaten and worse by none other than those who share an oppression my own … These experiences play across my mind’s eye through the lengthy nights in this tiny cell like some kind of confusing and nefarious film that I’m unable to forget … A sickening display of grabs in a bucket – each scrambling over the other and pulling the next one to drown at their feet …

I’ve seen people who’d sell the innocence of their own child for a fleeting high. Worse- I’ve known of the ones who’d take the offer and without losing sleep over it … seen people kick it for years together and turn tail or kick rocks whenever it got real or a “come up” was presented.

How can we ever succeed unless we become a collective tide? We cannot. Not as we clash and bawl, colliding with one another – creating nothing more than a chaotic whirlpool where we’re dashed helplessly against each other losing any strength or momentum. How can we break down walls if we’re stacking the stones ourselves? Oh I don’t say that lightly in any way!! If you divide yourself or oppress the oppressed, you are a master mason! You feel like you’re barely getting by?? “We’ve all gotta eat”?! Well if you in any way take what little another has in your same situation then you are worse than the power hungry elite whom rule the slums man!! Yeah I’ve got a “clique,” it a big one called “the people” but I’m real choosy. If you’re not with the tide, you’re against it. Get a surf board or get outta the way so we can make a difference.

From my early teens I was thrown into the backstreets of the South Texas slums. A walk through those neighborhood apartments simply trying to reach a destination can and does leave anybody beat down with their pockets turned out …

Hit those open streets and you’re then a target for a cop’s quota. This is and has been such an effective system of oppression which I see no end of until we start toward a solution.

Image by Clker-Free-Vector-Images from Pixabay

First – we’ve gotta address the problem of a moneyless class of people if we are to end the “dog eat dog” ideal which only weakens us. A few things to consider: a small business like: painting, fencing, or landscaping etc. is about $15 to open a (DBA) license on for 10 years. If you can cut grass, you can run a business. Hire a local crew and if you are anyone who pays to have your grass cut – hire locally operated business. The same concept can be applied to these large business who thrive on the little bit of money these poverty ridden neighborhoods do have. If you have a local supermarket where you buy food, get together with everyone they know, then fill out a petition with the supermarket. If they won’t hire locally, if your neighborhood faces aren’t employed there then boycott the supermarket! Convenience stores, laundry centres, barber shops etc. Those places need the money that your homes provide to survive. Take away that and they won’t make enough money from the passers-by to stay afloat. If you rent your place then do the same with management or owners. Make it clear that if they hire a landscaper then you want them to be local.

Police quotas – if we want to stop these folks from preying on every opportunity to snatch us off the street or from jailing us under sketchy circumstances we have to get involved. Everyone just about has some kind of phone with video technology. If you see the cops prowling through your apartments, neighborhood or any such things, don’t go inside & shut the door! Pull out your cell phone and if they’re harassing someone make your presence known while you’re recording the whole play. If we all did this it would become a “police watch” so to speak. The reason neighborhood watches work isn’t because thieves are afraid of old folks who have a lot of time on their hands – it’s because they believe they’re being watched. For so long these cops have operated with the powerful effect of fear! When a cop pulls up, everyone is quick to bail inside and whoever is left behind can be handled in any way without a second thought – but if when they pull up everyone’s cell phones come out?? That’s gonna change some stuff, believe me.

Brothers and sisters, comrade Kado here – another summer behind the wall ahead and this reach out is only made possible because of the support and solidarity of my amazing contacts. We have to become a solution to our oppression and that means first – we’ve gotta work together and stop helping the oppressors! We all need to make due and snatching a few crumbs out of the pockets of our neighbors won’t ever fill our plate so get real and get on board. As a divided, scrabbling mass we are weak, but together we are a force of nature.

Love & solidarity

All letters, support & feedback to:

“Noah would like to get some feedback from you and your friends. I enclose his mailing address.”

Noah Coffin, #1795167
Eastham Unit
2665 Prison Road #1
Lovelady, TX 75851

You can also contact him via Jpay.com: Noah Coffin, 01795167

(typed by: Heinz, Vienna, Austria, 22 April, 2019)

Color Coded

by Noah „Kado“ Coffin

Image by Alexandr Ivanov from Pixabay

Sent via Heinz (Vienna, Austria, Europe), 3-28-2019

It starts early on … Perhaps it’s fostered in the home. I’m no psychiatrist. What’s plain to see though is at an early age evidence of grouping big melanin content shows. As kids become just old enough to venture off to the pools o[r] parks, basketball courts etc. … it’s easy to see; black, brown, white … Often enough there will be some variations though not by much.

People could argue that this is dependent on location. Well I’m from the minority neighborhoods, Backstreets -“hoods.” And though I spent my whole life being one of the variations or another, that did not change – black, brown, white.

Then the factions start, which become division within seperation on top of segregation…. Why we as human tend to proceed through life as a competing athletic team does some tournament I’m not certain. What I’m sure of, however, is that as those habits form and solidify over time, breaking them will not be simple. How much could be achieved by a people undivided by race? What would society look like if classes didn’t keep it in their “economic equals”?

It starts at the root – color. Then there’s more division. As a youngster I witnessed it in many forms: people “representing” their apartment complexes, their street, their hood, or their side of town. Racial groups don colored clothes or bandanas representing some gang or another. And it goes on … When you pay attention, it’s systematic. Look at Hollywood. If you’re not on camera in some fashion it’s unlikely you’ll even at all exist to anyone in that scene.

Why is it such a big deal? Well aside from the fact that it builds implicit and also outright bias, many times going much further (Hitler wanted to wipe out Jewish people, Andile Mngxitama calls for killing in South Africa…). But most importantly divided people are never going to reach beyond the plateaus on which we’re stranded in our societies unless we break the color code. I cannot begin to tell you what potentially awaits a world where everyone stops creating individually and starts building collectively.

I’m not sure about other states, but here in Texas the prison system has it bad. In an already sad circumstance the prisoners break off into the “black, brown, white” like I’ve never seen before. Walk into a “chow hall,” day room, hallway – anywhere and each race claims their space. Seating benches and eating tables are claimed and fought over brutally. Color first, then faction. I’ve seen riots over someone breaking the “color code” by sitting on the wrong bench. It’s even here in solitary. People socializing via conversation largely by racial grouping and I’m struck dumb with the thought of it.

I mean, here we are subjected to removal from society, families and even general population but still there’s segregation? Wow … Are we not thoroughly oppressed people?!! It’s incomprehensible and I’m saddened at the realization that unless we become color blind then we will never shatter the caste, we will not do away with class and we cannot hope to end this cycle of segregation, subjugation & sabotage of our human potential… It’s a sadness which weighs heavily upon my head. This because though the answer is so simple. The roots run deep…

Take the initiative comrades – reach out deliberately & wherever a color code shows itself, step up & let’s start breaking it. Together we stand – divided we fail.

Show Comrade Kado some love and support:

Noah Coffin, #1795167
Eastham Unit
2665 Prison Road #1
Lovelady, TX 75851,

You can also contact him via JPay.com: Noah Coffin, 01795167

Image by John Hain from Pixabay

Who am I? I am the struggle

Comrade Kado
Comrade Kado

By Noah “Kado” Coffin

How many can claim that they come from the Bottom, from the Slums-n-the Back streets? Who knows what it’s like to be a statistic?? Taking lunch at the local Church with Mom-n-your five brothers-n-sisters, GoodwillTennis’-n-handed downs to wear at the schoolhouse that you’ll probably only attend for a year… No Pops at the house -n- Mom’s a part time bar[..] workin’ two jobs to keep foodbank peanut butter-n- parade bread in the pantry… The utilities been on in all the kids’ names -n- Mom’s headed to the pen for a bid, leavin’ Big Brother to play dad the best way he can.

Just when you hit rock bottom then you fall through a hole in the floor -n- you fall through a hole in that floor some more… (Juggalos can ya’ hear me?). If you ever slept in the local park or kicked in a vacant apartment to get outta the cold-n-rain, or walked through the supermarket [eating ] as you go-n- not givin’ a fuck who sees – darin’ someone to stop you… Then you can say you know what the struggle is like.

It’s sad as hell when you land in Juvy or the County Jail and relax because you know where you’ll lay your head & that food is sure as the sunrise… Sadder still that those circumstances are seemingly by design. Oh it’s doable, I got a Big Brother who’s living proof, but you throw down the odds -n- you become statistically handicap with those same odds stacked against you… Gettin’ that first trip to the Jailhouse tripples those odds -n- then you got the struggle for real… Turn key operation – Prison Nation

Pay attention to the big scheme of things -n- you’ll see the pattern: Kush, K2 & Bath salt was sold at every local corner store in the hood (yeah, the low rent slums), for pocket change & it was “non-narcotic,” which meant it didn’t pop up in a piss test so all the fools breakin’ their back for pennies on the dollar got after it… That shit took America by storm & now look!! Now that people are hooked it’s classified level one narcotic & all those “statistics” are headed down here to visit me… As the odds get stacked-n-stacked the chances get smaller -n- smaller for a shot until they’re astronomical.. There’s plenty of snares set out for the Statistic & this is just “in brief”…
Keep the struggle alive – fight the power!
In Love & Rage,
Noah Kado Coffin

Feb 2018