If you have a loved one or know anyone in prison, the most important thing you need to know is that deep down they are hurting, lost, ashamed, and feeling guilty. It’s a full time job hiding it in a place where weakness is prayed on. Imagine what that constant lie can do to a beaten down psyche, we all aren’t as strong as we may seem behind bars, weights don’t strengthen what’s inside, this isn’t built for a human to fully function and exist. Day by day it wears on us, the disguise is work in itself. So I ask, if you love them, don’t lie to them, empower them but also let them know their wrongs and what they need to change, because he/she is the last one to get the hint of a change needed within. Lastly, be consistent, don’t come and go, it tears at us, once trust has vanished and loneliness becomes adaptation, we become more animal than people. We are lied to, tested, cheated, defeated, and discouraged everyday, so we need the exact opposite at times to mend the damage. Not many are brave enough to cry Help! So I’ll do it for them. Help them! Pattern is adapted once belief is cemented or hope is lost. There’s comfort in letdowns because they’re expected, surprises are unsettling, unsettle them! Wrong becomes a way because no other way is shown and invested in. Love takes energy and time, so does pain, but only one is worn on the sleeve detected, the other, detached. Change starts with self worth, our self worth is garnered by someone seeing more than we do in ourselves. Don’t leave them, because their hope follows in your wake.
He or she may not know how to ask
he or she may be more ashamed of their past
he or she has to transform to survive
but after all that transformation, how much of the real them is still alive
we don’t always know what’s best for us
but a life is changed when real love invests in us
so don’t forget them, because it’s what they expect
the contrasts in life are the real reality checks
this is what it looks like, being broken, still trying to show that you’re strong
this is where you end up, after never correcting your wrongs
this is what it feels like, when an hour in a day is too damn long
this is loneliness, when most of the day is spent hugging the phone or humming a song
Love
SuProsed2B-A-Con: You Will Remember Me!
SuProsed2B-A-Con
When I was young my uncle told me I will write a book one day, that I have a story to tell. Just the other day, I received a written comment on a speech I gave that said “you will be paid to speak on stage one day”. I knew my life was tough, but I couldn’t see the story, I didn’t dig crying about my life nor telling my business. Now I see that it’s about empowering others whom may see themselves in our stories. I’ve even found healing in it. So I guess he was prophetic in a sense, but I needed this captivity, I say that a lot, but I’ve been able to observe the necessity of my downfalls and shortcomings. The accomplishments and the work put in by some of the greatest athletes, entertainers and other historic personalities all have had storied times of struggle that they overcame. I know what I want and what it will take to get there. My mistakes are my masterpieces yet to be finalized and framed. My potential and promise seem like they’ve been divinely interwoven and set about ripple effects that formed a tidal wave of strength, perseverance, and interpersonal insight. I was recently told to not let the words felon, convict or any other negativity define who I am or what I can be. My struggles have bloomed experience and wisdom which enables me to be/do better. I’ve also became more cultured. I see my story and pursuit as a platform, and being short I can admit one thing, I crave anything that’ll make me taller, because once you see me, you will remember me!
I fought exhaustion for awhile going through trials, expended energy
was morally indigent, feigned innocence, the emblem above my engine symboled ‘limitless’ so never let your memory dismember me
my path is kinetic, prophetic, eclectic, a legend embedded
feasted on my past, don’t forget it, learned from it, I don’t regret it
I’ll do more with less where I’m headed, I’ve said it, you Will remember me!
Blues
Blues, I closed my eyes once and spoke to a wind
She came and went
she thought I’d never get the hint
but I always knew she’d be back again
only vibrations, imagination is what sees
She lied at the origin of my drool
swaying back and fourth like water in a pool
I just wanted to catch her breeze
blown away by the melody in her timely gusts
the force of her speech
the endless range of her reach
distilled cool in every shared touch
she’d never commit, yet hoping I’d understand
how could she, her nature is all that she can be
I’m gone in and with the wind, knowing her fading energy is likened to a plea
every instance I reach out to disrupt her departure, result- an empty hand
hear the sorrow in her distant whistle
feel the hollowness in her evaporated presence
mourning her essence
blues, I once spoke with a wind…
she was just a whistle away
The thing about a Flower
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
Secrets
No that’s not true
your father didn’t die before your birth in service;
he was killed by your mother
that moment, froze and tainted my purpose;
I was only what 15 or 16
no not only, but I question “better late than never”;
the pain in secrets..
If kept too long, some should last forever;
2015 when I finally heard the full truth
now closer with my mother;
but it will forever be a one sided confession
despite the abuse, because you know, the unobvious missing other;
his family knows nothing of me
well, probably for the better;
he has kids and a son with my name, but like I said
some secrets should last forever;
From Rags to Ranks
From rags to ranks
Humvees and tanks
Ships, submarines and planes
Keeping our freedoms safe
There is never enough thanks
For the ways of the brave
Fierce yet fameless, a forgotten face
A sacrificial heart, enduring a mind that may break
The losses of comrades, the reality of mortality, how much can you take
Not enough done to procure the flowers before they wilt inside the vase
When I’m yawning, your bed is already made
Not a thread or lace out of place
I salute your valor on and off base
To all who’ve fought valiantly for freedom regardless of politics, I give my full-hearted Thanks
-Inspired by my big cousin, SirWayne Wardlow, one of my silent Heroes-
There can be more done for our vets, while coming out to mediocre opportunities, sacrifice and heroics become cliché. The system needs vetting, capitalism shouldn’t dilute heroism. In war, in the military, America.. Americans, are the consumers, the benefactors…if the business world and politics reward the contributors, than why not America better reward its contributors..money shouldn’t rule the world if lives brand it..but who am I kidding? To my family specifically, I admire love and respect you, to the countless others, appreciation for the under-appreciated, simply put…Thank you