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Prose of a Con

Poetry and Prose by Russell Wardlow

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Inside

Top 10 Reasons Men in Prison May be Bigger Catch than your average “Swipe Right”

April 15, 2019 by Russell Wardlow Leave a Comment

FITNESS- I mean in prison we take care of ourselves for the most part, clean, organized, we’re preserved, with all those keto and kale lifestyles, we have the kilometer lifestyle, weights have their way of sculpting and bulging the body in more desirable ways. Testosterone and Vitality will be at the max, after the first round of course, if you picking up what I’m putting down!

TRANSPARENCY- we live with our worst all out there, we have the elephants in the room being rode by our skeletons out of a wide open closet, no surprises, no sending our representative selves, no false advertisement, what u see before u get is more than you’ll ever know before an average first date
emotional availability-people are finding and reinventing themselves, trying to heal from their own scars by facing them daily, that vulnerability is found and explored on another level when a woman is involved because emotions aren’t a party topic on the yard, so you get the real tears from a Man, Wooo!

DEPTH-in prison that shallow shit is less existent, who are we to be so choosy and picky, plus we get a chance to know someone’s depth before appearance and sexual performance which is the true essence of love and relationships. Let’s be real, most people are surface dwellers, but us in prison learn from experience that it’s what’s beneath that counts, so bring your flaws, scars, and all!

SECURITY-if you at a grocery store and a dude comes up to you like, “what up ma” all you gotta say is my boyfriend just got home from doing ten plus years in prison, then he says, “goodbye ma” nuff said/ I mean I used to be that guy that stayed away from all dudes out of prison and their women and I don’t scare easy, I’m just not stupid. Men from prison are protective of what’s theirs, so being a prized possession is a plus, because no one steals from us inside or else, so damn sure not outside!

FORGIVENESS/UNDERSTANDING-we understand people have a past and have shame and guilt, we live in it daily, so you are able to have the release and heal with a kindred spirit that truly gets it, the weight of judgement isn’t a light load, we know how to forgive because we live to be forgiven, umm vulnerability is the new pheromones!

GPS-you always know where he is, and fear no competition, women aren’t plentiful here so no weekend sexcapades or surprise pregnancies. Loyalty is almost a given, all you have to do is pick up the phone, visit, or write back!

LISTENER-the world is so distracting right now, you get someone that has the luxury of being able to stop and be attentive and learn who you really are and help you figure even more of yourself out, you have men that not only listen, but actually wants to listen! Priceless! That shit is groundbreaking!

TRAINABLE-if all men are dogs, then at least we’re in a kennel and trainable before you take us home. I mean if the world can have all these lost, hurt dog commercials that make you wanna spend your money and take them home, then do a slow motion biopic on me and my environment, and I can make you just as sad and be all the more respectful, grateful and loyal to you too if you choose me and take me home! I don’t mind being trained, who I was at first obviously didn’t work out, cheers to new things!

DRIVE-we have creativity, we’ve fantasized and dreamed and found passion and sparked ideas in order to have a chance at a better life, in order to start over, all that takes time and planning, will, dedication, perseverance, reserve, strength, patience, spirit, faith, belief…we can help rejuvenate your energy, drive is infectious, lost and forgotten dreams become realized and seeked once again in the name of love, Prison Love!

ROMANCE-We have all the time to think of everything you say, the signs you give, trust me we see all the signs and remember more dates and moments than usual so we can create a display of love specifically catered to you. It’s the small things that we master and that count, so we’re creative with how we express our love and the things we say, whether in drawings and hand made cards, romantic, sensual, and deep letters, singing on the phone, and Prison Poetry(ehh mhm! bias admitted) is second to none! So imagine the effort that will be put in making you feel special when we’re home! You know how a man acts when he messed up and wants forgiveness knowing he’s in the dog house? Well that’s our normal! Can’t beat that! If someone expresses love better than a prisoner, then what the hell are you doing reading this?! You messing up!


Ha! No wonder the prison penpal and prison business is boomin! The Good in the Bad, ProseofaCon
Case made! Mic drop! So are we a catch or what?! Instagram Prison Version of “The Bachelor” coming soon!
Disclaimer: does NOT apply to ALL, but then again, what does?  

Filed Under: Inside, Love

Head in the Clouds

April 15, 2019 by Russell Wardlow Leave a Comment

Head In The Clouds:
Rare peace…I’m chilling on the yard at a table, listening to music, just zoned out right now…I’m free or at least escaped for the moment…the sky is full of thick pillowy white and powdery blue clouds, there’s literally no break in the clouds but the puffs of definition…and it’s as if the sky is moving in unison, as if being called somewhere, like birds migrating, or mass yard movement on the way to chow…it seems so free yet almost mindless or unconscious, maybe even purposeful, but no doubt tranquil…at least in my mind. The sky is so dense right now, I wonder how much a cloud weighs? It looks both heavy and light, ambivalent…ambiguous…duplicitous…no, paradoxical! There’s the word I love. Balancing two sides, whether opposing complimentary or contradictory, is just a thing I love doing-Libra Natured. I see myself going into the sky, clawing and peeling back space for my head to poke through, like a groundhog digging a hole. Now my body is suspended in air, my head has disappeared, for I can’t look back down on the ground but now I’m in a whole other world, has that happened to you before? Your mind being somewhere so completely different than where your body is? I feel extremely light…close your eyes, what do you think I can see?…What do you imagine you would see if you were me right now? Somehow I can breathe, I wonder how God can see everywhere, yet I am finally above it all and only exposed to one world, one side? Reminds me of people’s attitudes, acting as if they are above things, high and mighty, yet barely know the half of what they feel so strongly about. Ignorance is a path of its own I guess. Speaking of the G O D, I hope He doesn’t peek a boo me behind these pillowy curtains, that wouldn’t be funny at all. A joke from the creator would have to be scary right? Just the presence…and then the pressure of laughing and playing along, or maybe he’d be the funniest ever given that he created that ability and knows us all well enough to know how to get a giggle, no way he’s like Kevin Hart! Hmm, I’m probably not supposed to be here anyway, seeing what I have somehow sneaked upon…this seems like a highway where Angels traffic across gracefully with no use for their wings, on the way to somewhere purposeful, I’m sure they aren’t capable of wasting time. Time… I doubt it exists in this world. So much destiny being orchestrated above our tiny human bodies and minds that worry of material things too heavy and shallow to cohabit any stay in this world. Everyone here is a Giant, and Stars look like diamond earrings! Eh, some more cubic zirconia than others if you ask me, but these Angels look so much like people, yet so foreign…I wonder if I might see my Dad up here? A few days ago, I just saw a picture of him for the first time ever and I’m 30, now all I think of and see, is his image in my head. I have so many questions, it may make sense to look for him up here right? But I don’t speak Angel…if I could have an interpreter I’d probably call my bestfriend and Guardian-Angel, Katie. She’d at least know we’re looking for a handsome man with sunglasses just like me, ironic, the first and only pic I’ve seen of my Dad, he’s wearing sunglasses just like me, so I know he has customs in this world! I’m rarely seen without mine, and rarely noticed without them…isn’t it crazy how often we look beyond something in front of our face, because we expect it to look and be a certain way? I do that a lot with women, love, opportunities, foreign countries and cultures, certain foods, and life period. All earthly things I suppose, so I guess while I’m up here, I should at least try to fit in and adjust my thought process to not being so surface and physical oriented if I want to find anything, because I haven’t noticed one identifiable color. Somehow I feel like no time has passed and no time has been wasted, it just seems as is, and just right…everything seems like such a rush below me, like there’s never enough time, I can’t see it, but I can feel and remember it, my body feels unsettled compared to my floating head. Do we lose time to sleep, or do we sleep and lose time? Oddly I feel younger, or ageless. Hmm, how do I explain the lack of physical ness with physical descriptions? Paradox again! This is blissful confusion, it’s as if there is so much and yet only one thing going on up here, but it feels like the color of Love. Does that make sense? I haven’t felt anything remotely parallel to sadness, anxiety, anger, fear, or loss. Everything is harmonic, matter of fact everything sounds like a melody, as if movement is cadenced to some kind of aural music. Phantasmagoria…that word just popped in my mind, I don’t know the definition but it makes sense somehow, or Chimera! I wonder how would the world change if they were able to view this world? Wait! I don’t think that’d be possible, everyone feels they’ll miss something if they close their eyes, fear…but I just noticed that I’ve seen all of this with my eyes closed. I’m trying to open them but I can’t! Yet I feel that if I’m able to open my eyes that it’ll all disappear and I’ll see nothing? Just like life I suppose, our eyes are wide shut, we see but are blind to what we’ve been shown. Who would’ve thought that it’d take prison for me to be able to finally see beyond myself and this world. This feels a lot like, wait is that MY Da….”Mr. Wardlow, its time to go back to your unit, they called the yard closed for count”…
head pulled out of the clouds
reality pulled my leg
back to where people see me but don’t see me
I feel weighted
and sadness anxiety loss and frustration all over again…
the escape is over
back to prison
or life…
whatever you call it
where did the time go?
somehow time flies when there’s none left…
or none at all
Rare Peace isn’t it?…
to live timeless?
Before locking down, I wonder…
Could a prisoner do that? Live timeless?…
Could you?
click.

Filed Under: Inside, Spirit

Color blind

April 15, 2019 by Russell Wardlow Leave a Comment

Tread lightly..tiptoe…be careful…PC…Who cares if I offend anyone! “I’m color blind” I hear a lot, ha! Culturally this country is so tone deaf because for the longest time people weren’t made to care! Now we have all these incidents and social missteps because people aren’t used to thinking beyond themselves! Let’s talk prison for a sec. Prison is a system of hope dealing and hope killing while saying, get better or else, in the process. I have a cousin in here that me and our friend began to argue with because he was denied a chance to have his parole hearing moved up, yet people in his same program was granted that opportunity. I told him to write them again, and basically he said that he’s good, he’s not going to set himself up for that. That he knows himself and he’s not going to set himself up to get letdown again because he will take steps back in his mentality. So instead of getting ready to go home, to his lady and his kids, he’s staying in here for several more months longer than he should. I told him he doesn’t care about his freedom, and we argued, he couldn’t see our point, but then I noticed how tied in his emotions were to this rejection, that he was saying in every way but direct, that he isn’t strong enough to take more rejection, and he’s been through a lot. Now, there was no good reason given to why they didn’t hold up their end of the bargain once his programming is finished, except a check list of what not to do until they see him. This system kills hope. What is a human being without hope, that only knows rejection while being told to be docile and compliant. It’s not realized how this unexplained set backs and refusals to advance people is a hindrance to people and their family emotionally, and having hopes let down is so draining and it has the ability to make a person revert back to a sense of not caring, and then what…? People act as if there has always been help for incarcerated people. Most of these people have never been further than the prison they reside in. I don’t care how many white people you believe there is in prison, it’s NOT the same. When black people are arrested and booked, it’s an energy that almost says, I got you, you’re exactly where you belong. Also how we are treated comparatively, is like, “you’ll come back”. I don’t know why you care, as if we have nothing to come back to and no one that loves us. Even the outside treatment facilities were too far away from urban communities that black people would violate parole by not being able to make it to their treatment recommendations and parole meetings, and so it continued the steady influx and flow of us back into prison. And then these programs became largely in-patient to supposedly fix that problem, but underlying truth again was that it kept a certain segment of the population inside of prison LONGER, like my cousin…like ME. No one would build a church outside of the community that it’s supposed to cater to, how can it be affected and how would it have a congregation, it’d be a waste of money. For so long, outside organizations and programs weren’t plenty because no one wanted those organizations within urban communities, and if they were, they were largely black and lowly funded and barely recognized. So why build more, when the people that you are supposedly trying to help can’t make it to you. SO now all these organizations and such are helping with transportation, and it looks like this has been a thing always there, just not used. No, the states use their resources to continue building more prisons to address a problem, instead of building treatment to heal the disconnect and systemic problem. Even the crimes that are punished the worst are largely committed by black people. For the life of me, I don’t know how you tell a victim of sexual assault and molestation, that it isn’t a violent crime. So in my state, Nebraska, these crimes are largely helped with new legislation and ways to move in and out of the system quicker, while sentenced at a lower rate versus other I guess real violent crimes like assault, gun possession, robbery, domestic etc. We just had a senator on the floor that refused to vote for a bill involving the snap program because she says that she thinks drug dealers are worse than rapists! A woman said this! There are so many underlying tones that people don’t bother looking at for what they truly are, most black men aren’t convicted sex offenders or rapists, but they are for a large part, convicted drug dealers and violent offenders. SO simply, less help for the black community when it comes to government funding and assistance, so now, with no home or no food…and barely knowing of anything outside of the poverty you lay in day in and day out, and you have to survive, after all self preservation is a human trait, what would you do?! This system will take their foot off a black man’s neck for a moment only to shift and place it on his back. And who cares right? I mean who really gives a damn, it’s not you, we did it to ourselves right? We have the same advantages and opportunities as you do. Forget the fact that all these clinical churches I’ll call them, are built outside of the communities they need to serve, so one side of the population is getting their needs met and the resources offered, while another side can’t find a ride, let alone know their way around those parts of town. Yea, I get it, staying in prison sometimes just feels so much easier, even when you are dying inside and want to get out with everything in you, but after so much shit you’ve climbed through uphill, you just can’t take the slippery and shitty step of possible rejection, because who knows the person you may become once you fall all over again with more than you can handle and everyone can smell it, you can’t hide it…so you start feeling just how the world feels when they here of people like you…so the fuck what, I don’t have life, I’ll get out eventually. Being color blind is impossible, lie to yourself

Filed Under: Culture, Inside, Trauma

Let me ask a question

March 15, 2019 by Russell Wardlow 1 Comment

Let me ask a question, why do so many things in this country go unquestioned with our supposed freedoms of speech? How do so many things go unchallenged and remain lop-sided within a system supposedly governed and legislated by checks and balances? We have so many “movements” that do the trick of keeping us excited and attentive within the moment, but grasping no understanding of what laid before and what’s to come beyond that moment. As if those questions or thoughts are too inconveniencing to get more involved in, so in a sense, we rather run around ignorant with as little information and as much outrage or empathy as possible. No wonder what we seek doesn’t last, because we have no staying power in our own convictions, especially if it doesn’t directly or immediately affect us.

We have so many organizations working to advocate for the human condition and other disadvantages, but they barely gain traction or get enough recognition because they don’t come together and acknowledge each other, offering resources. They stay with ideological differences that serve more to prolong their wanted impact, as if it’ll only get done under their umbrella their way. There is more talk of unity than there is collective work for inclusivity in all forms of it. I mean inclusivity of culture, color, and creed, believing that you share a common goal and outcome. A government works together to work, so shouldn’t humanitarian organizations? I read this quote that I’ll butcher in this book called “The Theory Of Everything”, that said if we merely stay at the stage of celebrating diversity, then all we’ll continue to do is passively endorse a culture of separation.” This went on to mean that tribalism, racism, xenophobia, classism etc are more enforced when we speak so much more of our differences than speaking of and searching for our similarities.

We do that by accepting one another, by being inclusive, by diving in for more than a dip, but a swim…back stroke, breaststroke, butterfly, and all that stuff. I can’t swim, but I rather drown in our similarities and inclusivity than in the shallowness of differences. I hate always having to speak of how my life was much different or tougher than yours and how we differ, I’ve been this black sheep, black swan, black man and whatever other black mythological creature than person. I rather you remember that I am just like you, a person, because then if maybe you begin to see me as you, maybe you’ll care more. Even if unconsciously, I’ll take that, we don’t all have to be woke, being woke takes real empathy, that isn’t easy. You know I saw on TV that what was trending was videos of throwing cheese at your baby’s face. It seemed cute and funny, but I feel like that baby at times. This little unknowing social experiment, powerless, but still someone’s entertainment, unable to do anything but be observed, directed, judged, and laughed at yet made to believe that those around me care and want the best for me. Being a baby is a prison of its own, there’s no independence, with a lot of shock, confusion, and fear almost at every moment with seconds of joy that you’d go mad if you didn’t experience it.

Which has more value, a person or a prison??? Privilege or punishment??? Pain is the most remembered and forgotten part of life. We remember ours so quickly, regardless of what joy comes before or after it, yet just as quickly forget the possibilities of someone else’s pain. So how can we start creating a real wave of change, instead of just responding for pop culture or outrage as our compass? Easy, ask. Just ask. To ask, is to care, to care is to get involved. Getting involved at any level is better than commenting as if it doesn’t involve us, yet it involves us enough to involve our opinion. If we can speak about something, than we should be about something even more. Law of the jungle, don’t tell me, show me, anyone can roar, but in here, I’ve heard every type of roar from inside and out, claiming so much while doing so little. That type of work gets no play in prison in terms of respect, just like it doesn’t in terms of politics, and yet, people are re-elected! Maybe that’s what it is, we vote for what actions resemble our own…damn.

After we ask, and then get involved, the last thing to do is to include others. It takes a village. Yea, there’s a lot of issues going on right now, but if we keep addressing the symptoms and not the root, then, well shit you know, that’s nursing 101. Don’t just accept things and turn a blind eye. Ask a question. Get involved. Include others aka BYOF-bring your own friend, then energy is created, energy creates a wave, a wave becomes a movement and a movement becomes a party, and then we get drunk off change! What we believe matters a lot when we decide to get involved, we can have fun doing hard things, it’s not all doom and gloom, relationships are formed, other aspects of life and ourselves get discovered, because there’s always Good in the Bad! ProseOfACon!

We have to live like life isn’t just aimless practice everyday with no purpose to it, no, the thing about life is, that everyday we get to practice our purpose, the difference is if you practice on purpose versus without purpose. We find true value and purpose by doing for others, not ourselves. There’s a lot of hidden gems in prison, just like you yourself hold hidden gems within you, there’s no difference besides the fact of us being in prison. Struggles highlight the greatness to come if we embrace it, pressure emboldens the diamond at our core to shine outwardly so everyone else can see. But sometimes these pressures get the best of us, the only thing that can ail that is people getting involved. Care reflects and projects value…Prison is just full of people that lost or forget their value, so I’m asking for help in getting that value re-established. Help me, so I can help others, or help others so they can help me…it takes a village and an idea, not an ideology…Just ask

Filed Under: Culture, Inside, Trauma

I’m back!

March 15, 2019 by Russell Wardlow Leave a Comment


Here I am world!!! I’m back!! Wooooo!
Just received my new tablet after this long ass dragged out Month without my baby (prison tears) but now things are back to normal. I feel like I swallowed a pack of Skittles, Merlot, and Red Bull! Feeling the options, the dapper and the energy! So what am I going to write about now? I don’t know because there’s been a lot on my mind, first off, shout out to my “prison wives” homegirls! Hope all is swell well! Shout out to everyone that don’t have a life like me, get up and do something! Shout out to my long lost brother, he just showed up on my jpay this morning!  The jpay has room for anyone else that wants to email me too, yea I sure don’t get bored and lonely in prison…NOOOOOTTTTT! Shout out to my son’s moms, they still doing a great job, way better than me right, oh and of course MY TWO BOYS JOSIAH AND TREYVAN! I’ve never known anything more beautiful and saucy! Shout out Lauren From Givabeat for seeing to it that I still keep writing by making sure I got a new tablet! Swag!! Not enough big hearts out there but Good thing I have the best ones on my team! Which brings me to the best BAB Deuce Deuce KATIE, You are every bit of inspiration as you are friend and family! Speaking of family, remember that life, happiness, success and love requires a team effort, we can’t all do it on our lonesome. “Coming together is a beginning, keeping together is progress, and working together is success” and OG MLK Jr said “change doesn’t happen on the wheels of inevitability, but through consistent struggle” embrace the struggle yaw, the hardships, the pains and let downs, the break ups and rejection, the distance and the discomfort it brings. Lastly before I leave, the posts about to be more live, so show some love and gravity if it pulls you, spend a few minutes with me and read on and share but if not, I leave you with this, so listen world, “if you live for compliments, you’ll die by criticism”

I’ll break a leg before you break my spirit
I’ll break my back before I run from the weight
If we break apart, yea, it might break my heart
But we can break down from getting too many breaks
And where would we go from there World?
I have less breaks than drive
So ride with me Life, but only if you believe there’s good in the bad, and lets see where this World takes us
-WayOfLife-
-YoungR.U.S.S.-
-ProseofaCon-

Filed Under: Inside, Love, Mercy, Spirit

I am a number!

March 7, 2019 by Russell Wardlow Leave a Comment

living in this 10×6, 24/7, 365 x 9 1/2- 12 doing 14-20 as 78756
numerically numbing
I am a number!
I am just nothing
but something you count, but nothing you count on, just someone you count out, but I am not down for the count…
all those titles and opinions have no dominion, I’m drowning them out
tho I’m drowning right now
lately I been a downer engulfing downers
over the counter
hoping I counter
and end up on the upswing
my chin up regardless of what u must think
was a gangsta, Im a felon
was a dad, now I’m a father
I am mistake, live in it daily
I live in the open, you judge me and comment
I have more in common with all that you hiding inside of your conscience if you’re being honest
you are just like me
I am a broken promise
a hope for progress
a note that focuses on the wrongs I wrote, I right, I might just have a couple more wrongs to write, so I these poems I write might work to heal me inside!
psyche
how many numbers will u see before u think of me
all this attention seeking I guess this is what it takes for u to think of me
5 4 3…my final countdown is steady/heavy
2 1…u forgot about me already

Jesus pray for me
I hate these demons that prey on me
keep the devil away from me
keep me awake and the shovel away cuz I’m digging my grave tryna find an escape a fire scape, a higher place, in dier straight cuz my old ways, continue to rain on me
my past sins have domain on me
put a stain on me
tried relying on my genes, but im weaker than my denim and its seams, weaker than I seem, don’t wanna be seen, see, im living in my shame, I just wanna change, but these days, stay the same, I try to pray, but I can’t, lay and wait, omg! i cant relate, to, amazing grace, thru, prison gates, new, vision paints u, in a grey view, integrate, orange is the new hate suit, life takes u, in a maze, just a phase, but it still phase u, and ya past still chase u, I just wanna have renewed faith thru, and be faithful, but I’m feeling foolish like April, I try to troop and stay true, i try to stay glued, to ur pages, like cable, but without a cane, i aint abel, to make it to, page two, Lord if I changed my language, could u understand?! yo necessito, Jesus

You don’t see a person
you only see percentage
you only read the sentence
you only see the prison
but there’s people in it
you only count the numbers
overly medicated prison population, everyday we getting number
spelled the same way they prefer it, they rather increase the numbers
they only want us dumber
twiddling our thumbs, tryna keep us Stevie wonder
they try to keep us blind
windows without blinds
been living behind an open window for years and I’m still in the blind
u say freedom is thought, but my body is still in a bind
so many can do much more but they say their hands are tied
how u think I feel, while my wrist is cuffed
fighting for my freedom going fist to cuffs
what’s life, I tried to give it up, but I can’t give it up
cuz I got family that love me, sons that need me, friends that miss me, a world that forgot about me, hopefully a God that loves me and wants me to get back up
so I pick back up
my strength, a pen, some paper, several books and cd’s and a phone
ringing, hopefully u will pick that up
correcting every mistake when I lift that up
what? all that I left behind and with a six pack, buff
stronger now than I was before, I no longer mattered

Give me my freedom
haven’t I paid u my debt
u got from me taxes
I got nothing for it
plus gave u blood tears and my sweat
I got two sons
they have no dad
those days they will never forget
I swear I have changed, but I’m still in chains
have u not factored the difference
have u not factored the distance
can that not change ur decision
all I know is division
do ur laws practice forgiveness
to u ima savage in prison
no moments of pity, I never can take it, I stand on this hill, and I yell I’m alive, just to see if u hear me, then maybe you’ll see me, and maybe believe that this life that I’m living just isn’t so easy!
Give me my freedom

A number carries a life
what is a life defined by
a mistake, bad judgment, ill-advised choices, immaturity, negligence, privaledge or lack thereof, or ignorances
what about redemption?
we have 4% of the entire worlds population
yet we have 25% of the entire worlds prison population
so again
how we define a life
and how we value a life
is on trial here
our society can’t be as numb
as the same criminal minded individuals it charges as unfit because of their percieved moral numbness
Victimizers becoming victims- in a system put in place to make things right while keeping people safe is not the right way
in more ways than one, we are recreating the same problems that we punish
and if that’s the case
we will continue to section off parts of our society into ready made facilities
because our system is more geared to retrib, resti, ovr recid, rehabi
The more the better
themes of a buffet is now synonomous with incarceration it seems
so I ask u
when u see the numbers
do u see the life
or does how u feel reflect what u see?
…which may be nothing at all

was ashamed Im in prison
hated my name turned to digits
they saw the proof in the cover–so the pages diminished
and I was erased in this sentence
those preying on my downfall, actin like they never will
they also living in they scars, actin like they’ll never heal
destined to reach beyond the stars, even if by sheer will
they rather rave about the flower actin like that shit will never wilt
ohh!never kiss up, never hang my head no mistletoe
u can hate me, u can judge me, we’re identical
I got heart, like arteries and some ventricals
i had principles
never hypocritical
but was a criminal
what goes around, comes around now I’m living my reciprical
so imagine what would happen if u always living cynical
to u I been a ghost, was invisible, but now I’m visible, only thing u say is visceral
but that ain’t critical
becuz I’m spiritual
a living miracle
not metaphors, I’m literal
even if my literary lyrical

Filed Under: Inside, Spirit, 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.

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  • 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

Themes

  • Culture
  • Inside
  • Love
  • Mercy
  • Spirit
  • Trauma
  • Uncategorized

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