How can a man change
or not stay the same
When he can’t realize he is in a constant state of change
Adapting to a reality that forces him to stay the same
Numb his pain, number his name, become insane
All the while asking him-to-change.
Poetry and Prose by Russell Wardlow
How can a man change
or not stay the same
When he can’t realize he is in a constant state of change
Adapting to a reality that forces him to stay the same
Numb his pain, number his name, become insane
All the while asking him-to-change.
I’m not crazy, I just don’t conform
to societal norms
I’m anything but uniform
I’m everything but uninformed
I’m not crazy, you just hide yourself
in spite yourself
You fight what’s inside yourself
You probably don’t drink because you wouldnt think, and that would remind yourself
I’m not crazy, I’m just too sane
Denial is using two brains
You may as well use two names
You can tie your shoes but your screws are loose and you are too vane
I’m not crazy, I just admit I’m different
I don’t keep the mirror distant
I’m too old for fiction, I try to stay consistent
being normal is a contradiction
A baby, born in the haze of the shading phasing fading crazy late 80’s
A diamond never erodes
He took a walk on every road
Spoke from a tongue to which he never holds-
Back, moving toward a blind fate that forever beholds
Creativity, individualism, indifference, unique
black swan, black sheep, black diamond mystique
I’m not crazy, I’m just comfortable standing alone on my own two feet
You’re not crazy if you agree, and feel just like me
but I’m crazy…
No-stal-gi-a
I always loved the sound of the word
though I never took to it
I mean, I never had a past time of memorable things I clung to
Reminiscing was always in some form kind of painful
But this one day..
It boasted my favorite memories
I felt whole
No matter what foster home or group home I left
Just to be included on that day made me complete
Thanksgiving
The only day of the year I felt a part of my family
The day I looked forward to every year
To see my cousins, aunts, uncles, grandma and siblings
People who looked like me, shared my blood
Nothing fulfiled me more than seeing my family on Thanksgiving
It wasn’t the food though you know us black people can throw down
It was the family reunion, the day everyone seemed so happy to see me
Nostalgia to me is Thanksgiving
I will never forget the reason I laughed until I cried
The laughs that turned to tears
I can never forget the story of each dried tear
I can never forget the feeling of the nights I cried alone
Because, still I laugh..
Still I laugh
You took her for granted
Laid her face on your shirt-
The hardest thing for a man to do
Take blame for his hurt
The dumbest thing he ever did
Not putting her first-
The worst mistake he ever made
Not making it work
She took him for granted
Heard his heart race through his shirt
The hardest thing for a woman
Chasing relations and worth
The dumbest thing she ever did
Embracing the flirts
The worst mistake she ever made
Her actions not chained to her words
The paradox of chasing love
Is in the possibility of chasing more hurt
The pain of losing love
When we close our eyes, and still see the face of him or her
You took it for granted
I ask myself sometimes..
What is it about bad news that sometimes settles me
As if the culmination of let downs makes it unfathomable for me to endure something good
Or the audacity of savoring something great
The hope for it seems just as ridiculous
Is it the comfort of no further expectations within the flat line of bad news
Is it the good news always has the possibility of turning bad, as if I’m half across a high line tight rope
Why is my comfort in misery or self masochism more easily lived with
But my promise haunts me more than goodbyes?
Maybe that’s what it is, the goodbyes I expect
The ones to come and the ones that came
I’ve spent my whole life remembering
Slammed doors, dial tones and more backs than faces
So its hard now to face you and every promise that comes attached
So don’t believe in me, I’m just another case of bad news
Goodbye freedom, goodbye opportunities, goodbye love…
At least I said it first this time