Prose of a Con

Poetry and Prose by Russell Wardlow

Mercy

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…

Body Language

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She never felt wanted 
Blush painted her face 
I felt it…the volcanic like heat of an erotic exhale
Raising the hair on my neck 
I sensed the electric flush of her skin
I saw the vision of desire, eclipsing her irises –
Divulging her secret while fighting the clouds of precipitation 
The pent up protrusion of her diaphragm echoing the 
Contained rage of need within, against my chest 
That iconic moment had an expiration, and for that, she resented me
But I heard the angelic vibrations of her throat
Summon up a fulfilled “thank you”
With one last heave of her chest, and an exhale 
More carnal, yet serene 
We drifted into time…
All she asked for – a hug.

Eyes Open

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Eyes open with no view in here

Hate fumed with the many hues in here

Closed minds with no room in here

The putrid perfume of doom looms in here

Time stole my dreams, no Martin Luther here

Pictures of my ex-stowed away like souvenirs

Lockdown, lights out

Loved ones barely write now

My sons are riding bikes now

My ex and baby mama got new dudes that they like now

Out of sight, out of mind

Out for mine, alpha mind

Make fire from the alkalines, just to cloud my mind

From these guys with their hand signs pantomimed

I’m dazed in this maze from my ways but I’ve paid the for the price

But dear Lord, I only feel safest at night.

 

 

Prison Became Part of My Story

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Prison became a part of my story
That would start up my story
I’m talkin about my journey to glory
Not the gurney before me
Because I was the dead walkin
now I’m dying to live
I’m more for ted talkin
Reachin out and tryin to give
I was a kid lost in this world
Caught in a maze of lessons
Now I have kids caught in this world
Lost in a maze of questions
Ironic, the height of my rise
When I was brought to my knees
Iconic, the life in my eyes
When every cough and a sneeze had me nauseous and weak
My new vocational reach
Is motivational speech
Because that pain that’s in you
Is the pain that’s in me
But rain brings change and re-news
So you can shift from blame and aim at your peak
In every way you unique
Everyday is a feat
So my way is to speak
To make a way for the weak, to make a way thru their week

I Know

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I know how it feels to lose it all –

Because of a mistake or have it taken from you

To withdraw – you don’t feel any part of your heart

Not that it’s breaking, it’s just breaking from you

To feel naked, vacant, ached and displaced

When facing something or someone adjacent to you

To lose faith – but that’s satan or your own creation

Taking up space so revelations don’t make it to you.