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Prose of a Con

Poetry and Prose by Russell Wardlow

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Russell Wardlow

Sometimes You Gotta Hurt Feelings, to Heal Hearts

June 1, 2021 by Russell Wardlow Leave a Comment

even in relationships
friendships sparked
a connective camaraderie forged in the fire of external forces molding the new union framed by familiar experience and circumstance, making stainless steel of fraternal bonds
that have now become cemented in stone like the Sword of Excalibur
and only those who are worthy could ever pull from its reservoir
but this is a higher form of pending dependency
having someone, turning into needing someone, turning into needing something
where the nuance of fragility and shame can fatally determine the cohesiveness of longevity, shared between you and someone, or something
setting a ship to sail the tumultuous waves of the sea where sunken ships, have, by way of currents, long given up on dreams of docking landmass and so they cling to rock bottom
as if disaster has now become common place, a new home of sorts, where existence barely survives

and I said to him
but that’s relationships
sometimes you gotta hurt feelings, to heal hearts

because a heart
even the biggest kind of heart that rivals the size of a hot air balloon can equally be debilitating
it can be crippling
it can handicap you, and them
because it is empowering, emboldening, influencing, and enabling
towards the wrong direction
because of the confliction
of decisions
with the intent of good intentions
which by default grant permission
in the occasion of afflictions
imprisoned by addictions

that act as prescriptions
decrypted with small imprints and printed inscriptions
and let respite, rest, relief, rescue, remedy, and escape be a few of its plenty descriptions
which grips the attention with tension, until you are tense and suspended
symptoms-
reality insurrected by delusionary and guilty remnants, from chemical films and pulpy residue that sentences the senses to narcoma prisons
this is a mental limbo and an emotional linchpin
that they drift and exist in
a conviction, free from eviction
because all is done to make due by rents end
even before they make rent, tell me how that make sense
so when they ask for something
it peaks your antennas, because we all have agendas
and can become good pretenders
contending for favored endings
and their intent is always tented
entrenched in, the trenches of entrenchments
riding the highs into a spiritual transit
that transmits
transfers
of trance states
which damage,
vision and proper perspective vantage
dementia experienced from delirium
by extensive intense instances
of accelerated dopamine surges that converge into functionary impotence
stuttered steps, stuck, uttering garbled sentences
all because you couldn’t break a heart, to mend a heart

the contradiction of needed contradictions
in order to take the lesser of two evils and consequences
and your permission, your assent becomes consent
because you feel bad
because you feel responsible
you feel guilty, because you also feel empty
so you get it, you feel them
in more ways than one, you are them
now don’t forget I’m talking about addiction
we all have one or some
it comes in many forms
so you act as you would want to be acted towards
and you would want understanding
you would want patience and help
though you have no real clue how to help yourself, so how can you even possibly know how to help someone else
and it all results in one of a few actions
split into factions of half fractioned and half fractured satisfaction
from the reward of fatal attraction
so you either project onto them by way of judgment
or you discard and avoid them by way of distance
or you relent and enable them by way of giving into exactly what they ask for
but since it’s on your terms, you make sense of it
you’re in control, so it’s different
you offer instructions and believe you are doing something right
and they say “oh thank you, thank you” and give you all these praises, phrases and promises that they plan to keep
because in their moment of need, ironically their dependent mind is at its clearest
without the dosage of varied drugged osmosis and symbiosis of parasitic hosts until they’re comatose, shells of themselves or ghosts
and at this moment the crippling grippers are free from their system
so they sound very reassuring, convincing you in every way that they know how
because they too believe they have control and don’t want to admit
that they are an addict
and you don’t believe them, but you pity them like you pity yourself
so you hope…but that hope has no confidence
like your own lacking
you see, looking at addicts is hard because they resemble broken parts of us that we hide beneath surface, feeling like any more tugging this or that way from life could be the last push into oblivion and beyond
and we wanna try to save them, but we don’t see ourselves with capes when we gaze and stray from the mirror before we see any deeper than we wish to realize
instead, we see ourselves on a leash
and how can a dog on a leash, bark at another dog off of theirs, and tell them to come back, hook yourself back in
I know you’ve lost your mind but mind is master
freedom is too much for you, get back here with me, just like me, because you can’t handle it
restrain yourself
contain yourself
refrain yourself
until you can regain, retrain yourself
embrace the pain and shame of self
until you’ve drained yourself
stare blankly at your veins, you and your vane self
or
wake up the next day bravely, accept wherever you’ve stained yourself
campaign your self

I honestly don’t even know how I was planning to end this
addiction seems endless
this is a rollercoaster
I can’t architect the twists and turns
I can only ride or watch as they are being ridden
and I know attempting to help a friend or family that is rooted in addiction is a long road
truth has to speak boldly to save a life
I just wanted you to know that it’s never just one person that you are saving
if by some measure you embrace that, save yourself as well
then you will save lives

sometimes you gotta hurt feelings, to heal hearts

Filed Under: Love, Mercy, Spirit, Trauma

Embodied Thoughts

June 1, 2021 by Russell Wardlow Leave a Comment

tossing and turning
as restlessness abounds
the craziest thoughts come to mind
I sift through them
searching for meaning and rationale
but it’s seldom found
indecisiveness reigns powerfully
as sleeplessness abides
are these thoughts mines,
ones I hide?
or is this the spear of idleness
when diligence abstains
and the promises of purpose arise perjured by…
the guilt of noncommittal
must the mind be at constant work
and so too,
a body not at rest, before craze sets in
as above so below, therefore as my thoughts
so, my body
although I feel disembodied
careening too far within myself
I remain unable to discern a route from this peril of restlessness

Filed Under: Spirit

Relayed in Per Diem

May 31, 2021 by Russell Wardlow Leave a Comment

and I leaned upon your shoulder
then laid atop your lap
melted by the oven-like heat of your ambiance
there, you comforted me
like a comforter
my neck no longer craned from pillow less rest
a peace found and shone through like a-
mag lite in the dense dark forests of unfamiliarity
this serenity harbored was a feeling I’ve seldom known
both physical and ethereal
surrealism experienced in your being
I’ve been hugged, held even
but never fully embraced
my heart made stone with etchings of jade
from a life of hardships and the onslaughts of headaches
feeling as if I have been hacked at mercilessly
like the stubborn stump of an age-old tree
with stories that span generations between pain and virtue
sublime the attributes of selfless embodiment
gentle your surface, but you became my shield
although you know my name,
you call me worthy
and my time, worthwhile
what else would need be, if not greed
if I asked for anything more than this…
than you
o’ what it is to dream dreams of acceptance

Filed Under: Love, Mercy

Flame Thrower

May 30, 2021 by Russell Wardlow Leave a Comment

celly
eh mhm…
SHUT THE FUCK UP!
damn I can’t have any peace and quiet
because you can’t keep still and be silent
I swear, I swear I’m beginning to feel myself build up fire
and become a napalm all of myself
as my peace as been thrown by the wayside
I am emblazoned inferno
my body is flame which I am ready to throw
and my aim is at the steady disturbance which has become pest to my peace and sanity
You
you ignite a velocity within me that feels rocket-propelled
and I am burning inside to fly…
off this bunk
and all over this room

Filed Under: Inside

Self Willed

May 30, 2021 by Russell Wardlow Leave a Comment

if no one else will
I will
I will by myself
my will is by my self
my self’s will, wills myself
I will will myself I will
I will wield my self that wills
I will will my self’s wheels
my self’s will wheels myself
but first I will still myself
to make certain, that my will, is still my self’s
that way I can know that that which I will, is still myself

Filed Under: Spirit

What You See isn’t What I Got

May 29, 2021 by Russell Wardlow Leave a Comment

I hate you America
I hate you because you made me hate myself
I hate you because you make me suffer to feel included
I hate you for my childhood
things endured I didn’t know of
little and innocent at first
living and stumbling over obstacles you constructed
growing and developing under forces I couldn’t possibly fathom
a system created limiting a single mother’s resources and support whom served your country!
jailing her attempts at crying out for help
a model of success so great, you mass produced
this system placed me lost in a sea of misplaced and displaced kids
replaced within monetarily incentivized families
some more worst off than I was before I became their check
after all I’ve seen, how dare you tell me to believe in the American Dream
I see your true nature, but I am too small to be heard
America is an extrinsic valuator
truth is, America masquerades silently as a tolerated necessary evil
you wager participation
rewarded by opportunities of endless riches
and illusions of limitless freedoms
people cooperate blindly
hypnotized by promises of possibilities
while the nefarious systems subjugate and take from you unwittingly
staking hubris over humanity
choosing possessions over people
pain alleviated by payment
America is like dealing with the Devil
all the grand excesses and successes followed by the small fine print of-
sacrificing your soul for a heart too busy to consider people outside of your own rations pursuits and struggles
and being able to rationalize your preferences of self
a heart appearing full by temporary and circumstantial desires in the guise of love
a deceptive agreement granting the ability to practice any religion
fooled by seemingly infinite freedoms
and invisible yet cleverly written limitations
reinforced by structured imprisonments and impediments
while taking the intrinsic incentive of impacting true change support and community
negating the collective and cordoning off consciousness
following red herrings
while walking within redlines
until red in the eyes from the incessant overnight flights to and from the obsession of acquisitions
America, you blind your followers and muffle your competitors
choosing your spokesman methodically
and citizens unknowingly are members of the biggest cult on earth
that acts as an umbrella over all other ‘identity and idea’ cults of liberty and justice for some
because truly you know, all things aren’t created equal
after all, you crafted and created it to be as such
and for this and many more things, I hate you
you are the epitome of intolerable cruelty
only incentive changes you
strategy is your heart, not compassion
no matter how rich you can make me
money isn’t everything
but you tax my every second
so it is damn near impossible for me to believe that it isn’t
because I have to work compulsively to acquire life
that hyper driven work distracts me from your cunning
too busy to see, I can only look as I drive by
because a second lost shows up when bills come due
You embody Buddhism’s Afflictions
Rasta’s Babylon
Religion’s Satan
and Egypt’s Set
citizenship with you has only ever been a contract of my soul
I do not identify with you
you delude and allure me
you suppress and oppress me
you abandon and neglect me
you infect and reject me
you are the mirage of desire
you are the token security of promise
you are the insecurity of inferiority
you are the law of shackles
you are the silver tongue of hypocrites
you are the compass of misdirection
you are the source of pollution
you are the tranquilizer of consciousness
you are the erosion of the spirit
you are the calloused heart
you are the jaded eyes
you are the poison of sugar
you are the rhetoric of misinformation
you are the instigator of hate
you are the coconspirator of injustice iniquity inequity and inequality
you are the exploiter of culture, the thief of history, and conqueror of countries
you are the deluder creating dilution, delusions, and the disillusioned
you are the inclusion of seclusion, exclusion, and excuses
you are the paragon of procured problems profited from
you are the pacemaker of profiteers and politicians
you are the platform of all illusions
and the plague of illusions peril
the plunge of civility, humanity, and one’s soul
you give birth to insanity
and here I am
because you know what?
though you are incapable of change
I love that I hate you enough to believe I can change you
I think I’m more in love with hating you than I once was with hating myself
remember that?
you created me
and I would love to be the reason you fall in love with hating me
more than the energy you put into allowing me to do it for you
you’ll remember me one day
not as a Patriot
but as a Patient sick enough to save the Doctor

Filed Under: Culture, Trauma

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Prose of a Con

Prose of a Con is a collection of Russell Wardlow’s prose and poetry written entirely behind bars. Through writings on family, spirituality, freedom, love, justice, redemption, and vulnerability, Russell seeks to show the humanity and hope of individuals like himself who are incarcerated.

Read More

  • Whose Mind is it Anyway June 30, 2022
  • Objects June 30, 2022
  • Same Thang, Different Name June 30, 2022
  • Optical Ill-lusions June 30, 2022
  • Hollow Symbols June 30, 2022

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