Poetry and Prose by Russell Wardlow
it’s a weird thing
to ponder constructs
and relativity
when things like, construction
triggers me
although it alludes
to building and renewal
at the same time
that very theme
is in a partisan duel
debating more constructs
and multimillion-dollar buildings
which serve to further stunt
and imprison me
what a poignant symmetry
is the apple bad
because it a worm was found
or
is the apple already claimed
and now, both home and meal
to a creature compelled by its nature
never straying
created and animated from a source
no different than mine
what would make the worm lesser
and me, greater?
besides my powerless ignorance
to shun the divine
and how long is the kingdom
of might, when my foot
can become the God
of the worm’s plight?
is my power in the very choice
of mercy or murder
and the perception of the apple
being spoiled or perfect
what great lesson
can become of one’s own illusions
if one can not recognize
relations and influence
is it not the energy of possession
which has so possessed me
believing I have inherited all
confusing the very truth I seek
and if the world is a book
which I am learning to read
the moral is in how I see the world
isn’t necessarily how the world sees me
are not humans like the worms
consumed by consumption
with forgotten hearts
and full stomachs?
upon further thought
I have come to learn
how I view myself
reflects, how I view the worm
recreating myself
into another superficiality
to define my being
in your superficial reality
who am I here to impress
yet, now I speak
from a temporal abode
seeking room for release
when platitudes
put to test
your capacity of belief
and forgiveness
and why
why should I worry
myself to death
with skeletons to readdress
while closets
are buried deep
in restless homes
off busy streets
and like high school reunions
society awaits my return
along with familiar caterpillars
to judge what the butterfly has learned
Dreaming Big
isn’t
really Big dreaming
it is you,
expressing You
what does size
have to do
with a sense
of Self
who
would see it
that you temper your inspirations
and downsize your expansion?
when the very inspiration
which wells up inside of you
to capacity
is God,
beckoning you
to be,
god!
and create,
inspire,
aspire
intuit
express,
persevere,
realize,
manifest
be your Self
the mirror
of God at work
a god
creating
from God’s creation
simply said,
Be like God,
god
tell the fears,
Be gone!
tell the mirrors,
Be god!
and Beget!
there is a conjuring
from a summoning
I wish to answer-
a call beyond my feet
hastening my suffering
achieving its vision
a fusion of the subtle
and dense
only a decision made
straightens the long road
a one way lane, each obstacle
compatible with its path
there is no pain
once possession takes its course
an ebb and flowing dominion
over sensation and experience
and might I know
the origins of Light
that I would compare Hell
to the darkness inside
and silence the mouth
giving voice to the tongueless
guiding the wanderers of mind
taking heed to the summons
how selfish would it be
if I were to admit
a blasphemous thing
those two which-
I consider as Kings
also wield forceful power
over me
from my own spawn
manifested two prisons
which render certain limits
of impermanent dependence
two goals I have endlessly sought
liberating a breath I’ve fought
only to later understand
freedom could not be in their hands
and as my evolution demands
the ego must let go of its plans
but to the watchful accusers
what I would bring myself to confess
at this loneliest hour
I’ve understood a new unrest
my two pillars
may put halt to my powers
as sure as the clocks count hours
and unwavering Truth in Knowledge
I know of a balance
senses refuse to acknowledge-
as so is my challenge
hath I not stored enough mileage?
unbeknownst to conventions
the crux of my decisions
and the only admission
is of two doors
and no more
although one offers extension
ode to the man of opinion
or of spiritual dominion
identity can not
be wrapped in, where one is not
for one’s journey
is always alone
alone to one’s own soulful drama
and no other’s, for no other can roam
…
a moment of revelation…
years later, at levels too deep to rest
I’ve now understood what she said
in this lifetime, she’s chosen a journey
controlling what she begets