Prose of a Con

Poetry and Prose by Russell Wardlow

Culture

Addict

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Chain smoke, binge drink
Pop pills, narcoma…
Inhaled lines, euphoria!
Crazy thoughts..scared of needles
Exhale leaves, picture perfect..no worries
Coming down, sick of life
Drink syrup..light darkens
Lucid dreams-echoed vibrations
Mirror-mirror on a caved in wall
I look down standing on a pile of broken glass
Asleep on a bed of needles, don’t wake me
I’m still broken, I may never feel whole again!
And then,
That love, real love, her love..
Pure! Inhale…
Exhale!
Intoxicating
New Drug, Love
Addicted!

 

The thing about a Flower

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The thing about a flower..is beauty til death
It lives with grace, as it dies in that vase
You may only wear your beauty because of pressure
Make-up veils the truth
but I see your eyes, as if life is dying inside of you
Stunning the way you hide it
You are deeper than any well
Enthralled with such elegance
Like a bug, I feel fatally lured into your luminescence
But up close, I peer into your petals of agony
Others too often hover the surface, your look induces the chase
Externally masked, ironically you put off what you hate
Composed well since you first blossomed
So no one see’s your depth
You die slow yearning for trust and true love..
But you don’t love yourself
You feel like an object, a prized possession, a visual gift
Lauded after because of your appearance
Shallowly preserved, slowly wilting away within time
Dying slowly as you stand brilliantly flushed
The thing about a flower

 

Fall

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If I fall, would you fall with me

Would you believe, that we

Would fall in leaves..or fall in love

Would you fear that plummet into the unknown

The rustling sounds in a pile of change

Inside the symbolic nature of autumn leaves

Growth, change, evolution, resurrection

I call it life, I call it love

Not leaves

Are you caught between

The choice of freefalling into uncertainty

Versus trusting the strength of your own two legs

That never fail to stand tall

Yet you stand alone

Above the leaves like a barren tree

So if I fall

Will you fall With me?

Change?

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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…

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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…

Nostalgia

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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