Hate to see you go…but I love watching you walk away.
Being at this new facility is bitter sweet. You get to see so many people leave week after week, the changeover is spectacular and generates hope…until you see the next bunch of people pouring in. And suddenly you’re reminded of the well oiled machine still in its perfecting perpetuating cycle, replacing old parts with new parts. But within this cycle, you find yourself getting attached to some of the gears, though attachment is the least on your list of needs. But sometimes you can’t help but to vibe with a kin spirit enduring your same strife. Those bonds create a haven within this cycle of time and make it all the more bearable. They become a part of your schedule…a valuable part of your day and the up keeping of your hope, sanity, and strength. Things are always kept in perspective, until that gear which shifts you so effortless has reached its life span and it is his time to depart. You dread the day, yet you are happy for him, you don’t wish to trade places, only to not feel the void that will accompany his absence. You try to withdraw slowly, even making jokes about pulling away to soften the blow of his upcoming disappearing act, but you still want to be as supportive as possible and replant the necessary tools in his mind to not comeback to this factory. And then…he’s gone. Bitter, SWEET. My day will come, one day…and until then, I hate to see them go but love to see them walk away.
Inside
Pro se Con-tints
I find more strength and purpose the more people reach out, thank you, this is a lonely road we treck in life sometimes. The parole board laid me down for 2 years, which only set the groundwork for more to be accomplished. Thinking of my sons, but I hope you all stay on this ride with me, and thank you for your encouragement. I’d be lying if I said this wasn’t hard and a little disheartening, but there’s strength in every struggle, and this is the cultivation of a diamond! Practice is the preacher, passion preceded pursuit, pursuit was the predecessor of purpose, and personification embodied purpose, principles are paramount and promises become parliment in the paradise we find in paradoxes…Possibility is the paragonic pyramid of Potential shining like prisms, that can’t even be dimmed by prison..because prison is only a matter of perception to each person. Peace can only be pierced by procedure, so we can find power outside of parallels and architect perpendicular processes of progression within life called, PoetryInMotion.
Call you later
I might call you
if you don’t answer
I’ll move on
because
I lose patience
I’m no saint
but
you’re my saviour
you’re my anchor
you’re my aim
when
my behaviour
in bad taste
and
you can’t savor
that bland flavor
of hollow acres
I need a favor
just pick up
when I call you later
Prosed Con-fession:
I joke with my best friend Katie that I don’t know who is better, you, or God. She says God of course because he works through her and she is who she is because of God. I mean, do you know how it feels to have people in your corner that engineer such a belief and effort in you beyond the many wrongs you have exhibited, but have an endless faith of who you really are, even when you may question it or not know at times? So how could I not see God and believe in him because the friendship I receive is beyond explanation. I may never be religious per say, or I guess title myself outside of anything than a believer of a power greater than myself, of spirituality and divinity, of a God, my God. I’d be a fool not to recognize the power of Jesus Christ in my life. God, you have gave me the best type of friends that I can call family that have championed a belief in me which has woken me up at the right time. You have protected and built my two sons as strong, talented, beautiful kids with the work of their mothers despite my absence. You have saved my life when I felt I may lose mine or have to take life in order to survive inside these prison walls. You were a voice when I never reached out to you or any friends/family while I spent lonely nights in the hole and dangerous days walking within this barbed wire. You have given me a voice from feeling silenced by a sentence; you demonstrate in so many ways that there have been signs that I’ve ignored and now that I am ready to receive you, I see you in so many things each day. I used to have to have the answers for every problem in my life, but you bare that answer. How many times have I neglected belief in you and considered reason within the temporary things that do not have the capacity to love me back, like gangs, material things, women without virtues and pride. I can say so much more, like how you got me here, out of Tecumseh, and how you have shown me that the talents I have been blessed with are to be used for the glory of you by helping people that struggle just like me, because love and struggle are human issues and with you, I know I can affect change and healing in so many, starting with myself, my sons, their mothers, my friends and family, and the many people wanting to be heard and understood. God, I accept you as my Lord and Savior, today and for the rest of the days of my life. I may fall, but you knew when that would happen and already laid out a plan on how I can rise back up again. I’m not perfect but you are, so I know exactly who to call on when my flaws surface. So the answer is that the greatest is..Ka.. I mean God! ha, He’s got to have a sense of humor right? I mean he created me, but is it still a joke if he saw it coming? Some answers I’ll never know and never need, but he is the one I will always have and eternally need…believe, there’s signs around us all. Don’t be too naïve to try and solve a problem within a life you can’t fully comprehend, believe, believe in something greater than self. I heard a movie quote on Lucy posing the question, if “we focus more on having than being?” The more we reach for inanimate things outside of self, the further we get from self, which is the further we veer from God. I’ve found my answer, and so after so long, if you’re still searching than…
SuProsd2B-A-Con – Coming on too strong?
Ok, who made this rule of coming on too strong? I mean, I know there is a limit, but why should a person suppress how they really feel, or what they really believe and/or want? If love at first sight isn’t taboo, how then is coming on too strong? I don’t understand, we rather people lie to us and hear their truth on a later date when it better suits you? Who sets these paradigms of required time before this or that? No, No Con-that! I feel that genuine and unapologetically raw honesty, with of course a conscious reverence of the other persons feelings in terms of respect, is more real than some quietly accepted social etiquette of denying emotions. Passion, in some views, has been tarnished and dismissed as being too much too fast. I whether wear you down with my truth so you come along to accept it, then to wait later on shaky waters wondering if the full me is enough or too much. If you leave early, then you’d have left eventually, because why would I want to entertain anyone that couldn’t fully appreciate and accept me? This may come as no surprise, but I’ve scared away my share of people, but I was just shown faster their staying power, and see the real people in my life. I am able to cherish them all more and separate the shallow surface serpents. So being yourself really has no drawbacks, you just find out the truth faster than normal. I prefer to live fast-paced anyway, chance makes champions! I wear me on one sleeve and my heart on the other.
Prose of a CON-fession:
Honesty isn’t the easiest policy when leaping out alone with no certainty of how it’ll be received. I feel I’ve been the up most honest about my past; I’ve worn it thick on one sleeve, with my heart beating on the other, but today it seems I may have left some things out. I had my first son May 12th, 2009 with the love of my life at that point. We were both young and knew nothing about love, and me, I was battling so many scars of my past that I hid because of my shame of what I went through and had seen growing up. Instead of deal with it, I covered it in my relationships, wanting to love and be loved, to have my own family. But my past horrors and fears surfaced in my own life because what I ran from, I soon became. I cheated. I lied. I screamed. I cursed. I called names. I kept score. I emotionally battered, physically intimidated and abused and mentally manipulated people. One of those people, my son Josiah’s mom. No, we both didn’t handle things well together, as people, parents and adults, but as a man, I hold most of that responsibility. I think time and time again of the moments I could’ve salvaged our family, but I didn’t. My son became apart of that mayhem with us living under the same roof. I try to tell myself I never hurt him but the truth is, I did, I hurt his mother, I broke our family, I didn’t fix what became unrepairable. How do you measure hurt on kids? Scars, I still deal with mine and I’m damn near 30! So in retrospect, him observing my behavior affected him in some way that I refused to acknowledge then until now. I also neglected him by waiting so long to try to reconcile the differences between me and his mother Brittney, believing time heals wounds, but it never healed mine. The things we tell ourselves to avoid facing ourselves, Nah I was just being a coward, afraid and ashamed. I’m sure many men go through these battles that keep them from reconciling issues, wanting to blame the other half as having some culpability, but it’s just deflection. Emotions seemed so weak. I wanted to portray strength, as many men do, but that bullshit show of testosterone is as pointless as women taking estrogen pills. I just might maybe have that opportunity to reconcile with her in some way, and I will be talking to her for the first time in so many years. I’m scared I admit, even ashamed to admit how long it’s been, another omission because I know it reflects on how long I’ve been away from my son. And all I want is what she is willing to give, no more, even if just pictures, I will Not try to speak of what I want, I’m OK with time and the process, but I admire her strength in being big enough to want to talk to me after all I put her through. I tried to keep from mentioning my son’s name for privacy, respect and mostly shame on the part of my first son. A result of this has made it seem like I love one more than the other or don’t care. How do you walk the line of respect and fear while trying to use your words as a platform for an emotional and truth outlet that may inspire others, but still withholding? I guess the problem was that if I have to question whether to withhold, then I have to confess more and stay genuine. It’s scary, I paint myself as a monster but I hope to be seen as any thing than, an inspiration for at least one person to heal and find strength in my story. I’m still learning, bear with me…I thought surviving wars and riots in prison was my toughest battle, but it’s really this…this moment I become more of a man, learning the lessons of a flawed absent father, and humbling myself knowing that my first great love has gone through more because of me, instead of me shielding him. Humble…that’s the word, when no extra words need to surface from the depths of fear, because fear clouds truth and reality. So, today I take my biggest leap and I’m ready to be beat down and disappointed, because it’s not about me, that’s what us parents get wrong, it’s never about us, it’s about our kids, so we shouldn’t hide our agendas, fears and pains inside of our children. Just as I still have questions for my mom, he will one day have questions for me. I’m sorry again Brittney, I’m sorry Josiah Henry-James Wardlow, I love you, and I’m a better man now, than that you ever knew. I can’t wait until I get that chance to love you the right way and be your dad that not only gave you half your genes but all your good looks, 😉 (Joking, your mom is gorgeous)..day-by-day.
I’m sorry if I ruined my image to anyone that reads this, but all truth isn’t glamour, and I started out not so pretty myself. But this is about making positives out of negative, beauty behind ugly, something deeper beyond makeup. It’s not easy, but Life, Forgiveness, Healing, Learning, Growing and Love, are all a process, and that’s the worth- Trust the Process and endure the setbacks and pains along the way. If you know any men hiding/hurting/healing the same way I used to…now you know. Women, men will never be as strong as you are, recognize that and communicate because we Never do like we should until a whole disaster lies at our feet. Face it, that’s real bravery, because running from emotions creates darkness and leaves you blind to the desolation in your wake, but running to them is a light that hurts your eyes, you may squint and hold up an arm, but at least you can see where each foot lands in your path, choice becomes clear. This or that way. No cul-de-sacs. No U-turns. Just sharp lefts and rights, because every direction but back, is straight ahead.
I tried.
No really,
I tried.
To avoid the truth
Run, or not run from you
Leaving black rose petals plucked in my wake
Sunshades
Tinting acknowledgement from suns rays
Instead of light I became, my son’s shade
Truth became gravity
Lies became hollow
Soil became regret
Not enough soil in my hollowed ground to feel the effects of my mess
Until gravity humbled me down to knees-now rooted, face soaking wet
The tears of a man blossoming to face his Black Rose flower beds.