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Prose of a Con

Poetry and Prose by Russell Wardlow

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Love

A King, has Returned

January 9, 2022 by Russell Wardlow Leave a Comment

do not the poles of the earth
bring about the equator
just as the poles of the body
bring about equilibrium?

and has not my thyroid
and adrenal glands
brought about harmony
to the biology of my being

acting as northern and southern poles
representing both brain and sex
and their interdependence
like Husband and Wife?

and if so,
has not my fertile mind
and the consciousness it emits
become that of a Father to me?

and the vitality of its seed
going forth into the fertile womb
of my all-consuming heart
bringing the will of me, into being, like my Mother?

well, Mother
I crave your nurturing
fore I know it is you
who knows all my worries and triumphs

and I can not tell you
that which you have not already known
balancing my will with humility, a craft
steadying me from the force of my Father

there are things
I wish to speak solely to you
knowing you will understand
but I ask for your steadiness

even as you take on the gravity
of my weighty emotions
and the mighty fetters
of my thoughts

because I will not
offer you what you know not
but the reality of me knowing
my Father, as much as you-

may cause you to shudder
in your waters
creating ripples
from disturbances I now recognize

like a child, witnessing abuse
his mind was shielding him from
forfeiting memory for preservation
now harkening back onto what was hidden

you’ve protected me long enough
Mother, the world demands I know it
and I have, but now
Father, summons my knowing be directed

and I cry for the seeds of my Father
fallen on barren ground
Mother, your vitality has waned
and you do not produce like once before

I am in a state of chaos, fore I have lost my balance
feeling cold and naked from distance of love
the land has been trampled
by conquests of the senses

there is not enough field
for the plow
and there is too much desire
for the yield

the eyes have become insatiable
and the hands numb
for no one knows home
nor what they have in their grasp

extremes have shaken foundations
the poles are lived on
the highs and lows are too much
growth has underdeveloped

no one knows who they are
they have lost their names,
disregarded their ancestors
bury traditions and shun history with malcontent

malice has entered the palace
and the youth roam
until their energy drains
lost to idleness and idolatry

where are you Mother?!
I know you see this
you’ve been silent for too long!
but what words have you?!

soon as uttered
you are attacked swiftly
no one cares of your wisdoms
fore they can’t possess you

like the sword which slashes down
the swordsman, O Mother!
I’ve felt invisible like you
but ashamed of my existence

for what I see, makes me
want to cover myself
my guilt runs over
like cups of drunkards

because I have played a part
no belly’s know their fill
nor mind, it’s heart
the true just and righteous life, is orphaned

for where is the unity
of husband and wife
of father and mother
of king and queen

where is the bond
of love consummated
kids created
and kingdoms combined

the lands revel in their division
and the throne has no heir
for profit speaks its prophecy
and the poor no leader

the lineage of their ruler
is crowned in red
and the descendants of truth
have been muddied into obscurity

words are hollow shepherds
symbols are debauched
God is mocked
and life is found in the wandering flocks

who do I trust at this time
but you,
though no one listens to their mothers
they have abandoned their kids

fore no parent recognizes their offspring
let alone themselves
but I call to you,
O’ Mother, come home!

fore I have heeded and discerned
contemplated the legacy of my Father
disciplining disruptions I suffer
and it was not solely logic hence I learned

experience sent me into the wild
and I have come back with a message
my body, and the truth it bears
I am ready Mother, groom me for the throne

for the King, has returned

Filed Under: Love, Mercy, Trauma

Thank the Beat You Gave

November 27, 2021 by Russell Wardlow Leave a Comment

thank you
for keeping me on your mind
even when your mind is too busy

thank you
for keeping me in your heart
even at times when you feel like you’re on empty

thank you
for taking me in your luggage across seas
even if none of your bags fit me

thank you
when deadlines come near thin lines
and clear lines may blur lines because crossed lines are conflicting
but you still proceed and not see me as an affliction
entangling attention, intension, and interests amidst limits

thank you
for taking me across country with you
across the world with you, even answering calls, emails and even daring to request a visit

thank you
for bearing my intensity genuinely
reciprocating authenticity and not the scorn of indifference

thank you
for having a life and making me a part of it
embracing my artistic revisions of being submerged in the trenches

thank you
for knowing I’m not much for the Hollow-days
but caring enough to inquire through each New Year to Christmas

thank you
for trusting me with the truth
and not capitulating to fears of letdowns unintended

thank you
for being a critic just as I am a critic
but having a heart big enough to help and overcome being a cynic

thank you
for helping to continue how I value
and perceive the value of women

thank you
for including me in each transformative moment
and each transcendent monetarily invested minute

thank you
when you choose to sound off like a siren
and not damper the connection to the effect of a grimace

thank you
for pictures, not many
but being in the blind while creative, you know the power of an image

thank you
for knowing that you may never get it
because that’s why and how you get it
and keep making a difference
and continue making me different
respecting the fact and the feats that makes me different
because your heart makes all the difference
and this is why I believe we’ll make a difference

so who is my thank you to?
my Give-a-beat team/network who has all been in it with me
thanks for redefining the limits
despite the distance
knowing I had nothing to give you
but thanks for giving
a beat of grace is the reason I’m living
an unforeseen family found while in prison

Filed Under: Love

Voiceless, Without All of You

November 27, 2021 by Russell Wardlow Leave a Comment

it’s easy to have an opinion
hard to express it
most times more advantageous to repress it
but wiser to address it

maybe it just all depends on context,
and how you dress it
because every truth is truthfully a confession

and I prose cons,
as a con, prone to probe cons
to prove pros of my own con
and those of my own kind
not to con with prose
but to expose the pros of a con

to understand,
you’d have to adjust to the posed conscience
using the proper tense
since,
I’m primarily known as a con,

but regardless of the knowledge I tote
I can’t vote,
I can only spew or create my own quotes
uttered from fingers
acting as vibratos from an impassioned throat!

and all of my opinions would be for not
if it wasn’t for those
believing my voice could reach a lump sum
my support team is my platform
my microphone
my blow horn!

my confidence boosters
and proof that there are hearts I call a home
I write poignant prophetic painful and political poems
but it’s not just about reconciling with America’s wrongs

I can still recognize the beauty emblazoned
within ones uploading each poem and song
editing, advising, networking, affirming and
revitalizing resources
marriageable to belief in me
during my freedom divorcement

many women whose actions
resound like deep voices!
far-out hippie house music savants,
monastery masters of discernment

evolving DJ’s from the vinyl days
to the electric waves
and Jersey shores

environmentally conscious publishers
and site creator’s alike for their heart sakes
folk and indie vibes
socially conscious types
with hearts that reach inside

I would be but a voice in a sea of hungry captives
and my words just mere ad-libs
but my opinion has a platform
in people who put their time where their heart is

so whenever I get overly hopeless and dystopic
I know just where my spark is

to those who will come to know my voice
and to those that hear
and have yet to truly know my voice
I’d be voiceless
if it wasn’t for those that got to know me
by knowing my voice
and allowed it a kind of priority
believing that impact would happen
once you knew the voice

it’s an internal thing
like energy attracts, the heart pulls the strings

PS my favorite tv show the voice
and my dream is
speaking in creative streams
that capture pictures like Polaroids

so you can grasp empowerment
in place of what had only shown a void
but I couldn’t do it without my
collaborative challenging cheering confident collection
of conscious compassionate cause-compatible convoys

Filed Under: Love

How Amazing My People Are

November 27, 2021 by Russell Wardlow Leave a Comment

this is how amazing my people are

despite living
because of economic
and systemic terrorism
my people still keep their player-isms

as the black man’s life is in peril
from prison industrial imperialism
while every day for a black woman
is unheralded heroism

and I try not to get too color-specific
when courting women’s characteristics
but this country makes my conscience guilty
if I decided to go on and date a white woman that didn’t get it

just pay attention
I’m not a color critic
this isn’t
an indictment against other genders

nor other colors and cultures
it’s just embracing the truth of mine
and giving it its due exposure
before my current life cycle is over

Filed Under: Culture, Love

God to God

November 8, 2021 by Russell Wardlow Leave a Comment

I’m going to do you a favor
and treat you like a god
not just any god, for God’s sake!
but the god you are!

I’m even going to do you a greater favor
and not acquiesce to your ill-conceived sensibilities

now the irony of this all is
that I am not empowering you
although at the same time, I am
I am encouraging you to be empowered
by your in-power
and for some reason,
you will not like it
you may even grow to hate me for it
all because I’m choosing to tell you truth

your unconditioned truth
and seeing you for nothing less
than your truth
therefore there is no room for excuses
this isn’t empowerment because
this is already who you are!
but it is empowering because
you have been made to forget this

as you grew, you could’ve believed this easily
but as you “matured”
life’s superimpositions jaded your self-perception
now seeing this language as-
self-promoting, arrogant, delusional, deifying, egotistical, irrational, blasphemy, and sacrilegious
so it’s safe to say,
the more you grew
the less you knew
with the more in view
you saw less in you

a lost childhood imagination
stole your true self’s gratification
and I know you have the ability
to transcend all of your emotional hangups
peace is your natural state
although less accountability is easier
so I will not pacify them
I will not tiptoe or walk on eggshells when we speak

in fact, this is me showing
understanding compassion and empathy
for who you truly are
though you may believe it insensitive at the time
I am aware enough to know
it’s not what you say
but how you say it, God

I will tell you the truth
and speak to your truth
compassionately, empathetically
and with emphatic understanding!
I will not oblige you by speaking down to your comfort
that is not you,
it is but an urge for relief from tension
a cycle of pleasure, pain
instead of pleasure, peace
the ‘tension’ is unmastered emotions
from a lacking of understanding of who you are

and of how great, grand, and gracious the god-gifted power you wield
but this lack of understanding
has your emotions leading the way
and they are only identifiers
like polarities on a compass’ magnets
showing you the what
and the why
with the, where

truly,
I don’t think there is any greater compliment
or action I can give you than this
and I’ll accept it if you hate me for it
but when you get back down to earth
speaking with everyone else
you may miss that feeling
you know, of being treated like a god!

we all naturally have an inclination
pulling us towards truth
and one another
reflecting our oneness
and all I am, is a reminder
there are many of Me’s all around You
so you’ll come back
to one of those Me’s
until you see You
and are fully ready to embrace that
joining the chorus of Us
trying to remind everybody who They are

and you’ll learn to embrace the hate
because, they’ll hate you for it
they only know what they know
all are teachable
it’s just fear
from misunderstood love
they’ll get over it
you did!
or they won’t
but it won’t change your truth
nor theirs
all that is asked is
when you are ready
spread the message
because there’s a bunch more of You’s
that need to join all of Us
once they finally see
there’s no difference between You and Me

now create!
call it thoughts
feelings
call it force, or e-motions
call it words
or whatever you choose to call it
it’s your free will just manipulating the formless energy into form
making matter
because making things matter!
and we call that purpose

there you have it, God!
the one, of many
from thee One, Us many!

Filed Under: Love, Mercy, Spirit

Fought the Love I Fell

November 8, 2021 by Russell Wardlow Leave a Comment

I’ve fought the love I fell
and fell into the spell of fighting
smoke screen-I’m hiding
in this shell
I dwell
bidding farewells
to the carousel of fairytales
which seem unfairly hailed!

because,
frankly, I’m scared as hell!
failure is fair and well
being saved it’s the bell
fore if the poster of success gets nailed
I’d cry for help!

you don’t know this pain I feel
feeel
old scars still raise, abrade and welt
“just a phase,” I’ve phrased
unphased by the fading yells
of runaway loves that saved themselves
for their own sakes
leaving me in wake
to shake, afraid and naked
with shame from snakey trails
facing brail
where poignant fates have dwelled
and faces swelled
as baited base feelings framed from basements wailed
hoping angst was quelled
and change would unchain my tales

but pain is my biggest mistake!
and I still can’t refrain myself
from fighting the falling feeling of love I’ve fell

Filed Under: Love, 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.

Read More

  • 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

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