Prose of a Con

Poetry and Prose by Russell Wardlow

Inside

Thoughts Drift

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My eyes teeter open – I’ve lost focus, yet remain hopeful

My conscious quakes, eyelids cascade, my thoughts seem vocal

I yearn to be seen as I see in my dreams, but that’s the illusion

An unwelcomed confusion – when these blissful imageries turn into morbid intrusions.

Happy Birthday Trey, part 2

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I wish we could talk just today

But your mom just hung up the phone

I didn’t know what to say

So I just hummed all alone

I kept the phone to my ear

I admit I was hurt

The silent tone was too clear

She made it all about her

I made mistakes, I’m not perfect

That’s why I’m not at home with ya

But she tries to hurt me on purpose

So I’m left lookin at pictures

She loves the power she has

To accept or deny

But Trey, I’m forever your dad

And son, grown men cry

If you ever feel empty

Don’t turn it to hate

Because that turns into envy

And love is too great

I’m not there like I want

But I’ll still grow and be better

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TREY

Hope you get my card and my letter

Happy birthday Trey!

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Today I can share your birthday with the worldMy lil man, I’m glad you weren’t a girl

My lil king, daddy loves you, crazy boy

My love is your throne, kick back on a La-Z boy

I love your laugh, you act just like me

Crazy, funny, wild and tough, just like me

Astronaut or president, just might be

But you’re already better than being ‘just like me’

You say you wanna get old to say bad words

I would take the blame but your genes are half hers

You’re already 5, lil man time flies

I got backstage passes to your limelight

Daddy’s away but it’s ok cuz your mother’s with ya

So eat the cake til the day I can cut it with ya

I missed the days I could snuggle under covers with ya

But I’ll spend today hoverin ya lovely pictures

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TREYVAN

Blue-My-Life

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Blue – my – life,

My – skies, my – mind

Oh- My – God

My- word, my – tongue tied

Seen the truth-

behind the things I used to view as lies

Scenic view-

Behind the things I used to use to hide

Kinda this- kinda that

Connoisseur – of all kinds of things

now time for this- my crime was that

But I’m doing time for all kinds of things.

Regrets

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I wonder if she knows what she lost, now that she left

I know now what I’ve gained, now that I’ve lost

Now that I’m lost

Caught in the fog

I smell the exhaust

Coughin’, coffin?

Caught in-

Between overly cautious

And dauntless

Hostile or hostage

Sweat fills my arm pits

But now, the street a carpet

I need a seat belt harness

With every step I’m carsick

The road is my home

To view to experience – there’s so much now I know

Green light – I found my drive, I had to let her go

But I wonder if she’ll ever know…