Prose of a Con

Poetry and Prose by Russell Wardlow

Mercy

Heartly Home

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Home is where the heart is.

His is now gentrified.

he now enters his mind

all the time.
All this time

he’s been inside

he’s been Ben inside

Been frank-

with everyone he knows

Been 100.

How he’s been described

he’s been disguised.

Therefore, falsely identified

misinterpretations tint his eyes.

Fires dream to fly.

Fire in his eyes.

Hell bent to rise.

He’s meant to fly.

Despite the size of critics

he defies being defined and criticized.

He doesn’t play the victim.
Athough, his position tends to victimize

Believing he’s too special to be generalized.

Home is where he’ll sympathize.

Heart is what he’ll symbolize.

More or Less, My Record

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Hello?..

I don’t need a lecture

just for the record

I’m more than my record

just give me a second

I haven’t ate breakfast

you know how it is when you waking up out of sleep

straight from the Odyssey

that we call dreams

but that shit reality

its 2 already?

I need a few calories

u say I’m waking up late feeling bad for myself

so I need a wake up call from someone else

u say that u feel me and here for my help

who says I need help

put those projections on somebody else

I can do bad, all by myself

matter of fact I’m already, all by myself

I’m pushing of coarse, cuz I need some space

I don’t need your perceptions all in my face

I called you ok

but you all on my case

damn right I hold grudges

cuz this feel like judgment

u say u ain’t judging

but what is it when its one thing or the other I get it…

I know u say u see more in me ?

I’m snoring, u boring me

life packed some c4 in me

I may blow up at any second,

while this phone recording me

I don’t care if they hearing me,

I don’t care bout their orders cuz I am no orderly

I am still borderline, as long as those fences still border me

so just for the record I’m more than my record

I’m raw I’m a rebel and wretched

my life is a wreckage

I don’t get no rest or no respite

its hectic

I betcha it doesn’t get better

revel yet wrestle with messes

I won’t leave a message

hold up wait a second…

this sounds a lot like my record

you was right save the lecture.

Freedom is a SHE

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She glistened
with crystal clarity
and glided
like sleet,
at the soles of her feet.
I looked her direction
she looked to me for directions
I shared my perspective
she glared for a second
my tongue swelled like a sponge full of water
I swallowed hard like a desperate throat in the desert
words in my mind splayed like spaghetti-O letters
I tried to connect them
I saw two consonants and one vowel
I panicked, hoping to leave a good impression
before she leaves her shoe print impressions
not being able to offer her more than what she was looking for
“Eyb!” is what I rushed out of my stammering lips
she looked at me,
dumbfounded
I realized my mistake, cleared the white noise in my head
and descrambled the letters and mustered a
“Bye”
but she had already turned
well within her definite gait,
I doubt she heard me as she walked away
but I heard her,
shoes clacking, as she closed the gate
FREEDOM,
she always looks so good up close,
even better farther away.
but she’ll be back…hopefully

Don’t give me your Sympathy

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“don’t give me your sympathy”
I’ve never been one for sympathy
please, don’t give me your sympathy
shit, I barely hold together pieces of my fractured memory
meanwhile grasping for any semblance of an identity
at peace with me and emptiness manifesting so much symmetry
darkness lives deep with infamy
even now and back since infancy
hope vaguely scratched the surface like emery
love came and went with incandescent yet inconsistent energy
I’ve been chasing happiness that only fulfills me instantly
but its opposing force latched onto my soul like an entity
now loved ones turned to enemies
paranoia of possible enmity eerily nearing my vicinity
God give serenity!
insecurities veers me from your trinity
but at least I pray with sincerity
it’s just that this life came with a room full of consequential amenities
and all I’ve gotten for it is bear essential proclivities
with my conflicting affinities
spewing a slew of obscenities
because every bond came with a share of penalties
I never understood life period, until I got run-on sentences at my sentencing
I smiled at that rejection, I’ve grown accustomed to our synergy
a vacation away from expectations, that only ever hindered me
believing I needed to live up physically, jaded me mentally
and I found respite chasing my opposites, convinced it meant chemistry
because that’s where attraction lies right?
searching for life ironically resulted in me feeling like I’ve died twice
I can barely walk in my own shoes, that’s why I keep them tied tight
but objects in the mirror appear closer than they are, though in hindsight
it’s been years since I’ve been able to relax my eyesight
because enemies or my wretched past creep up from my blind side
reminiscing those moments I told the mirror that you may die tonight
by my own hands, or in the midst of a riot, or fight, in the line of fire, after past failures from trying the hype of my might
I’m a great thinker, but I never failed with these hands
forgetting its the fingers that build, but the mind that makes the plans
believing my body of work, and the body’s I hurt, is what made the man
then inside me had burst, so my mind put in work, which gave me a chance
to pick back up, and piece together those fractured bits of memory-
that I repressed from my surface and brought with me inside this penitentiary
building on those broken ‘periods’ in life that sentenced me, to this run-on sentencing
now through righting my wrongs, I heal while writing my poems, which led me to the rites I find scribed as my identity
naw, I never been one to ask for sympathy
but after living through all that I have, I count it a blessing being able to develop empathy
I have a savior I savor, so save your sinister sympathy
use it for someone worse off, I’m better now, and I rather take back power of, how you remember me
—

“no excuses”
I was abused, I became an abuser…no excuses
I was confused, and became a confusion…no excuses
I believed my delusions, and became an illusion…no excuses
I wasn’t included, and felt love was intrusive…no excuses
I couldn’t remain lucid, I felt I would lose it…no excuses
my pride cup half full, I remained drunkenly foolish…no excuses
I…fuck it, you get it right? No excuses!
—

“disciple”
I clinged to a, gang for survival
til I, became my survival
I was a, gangsta disciple
now my, gangsta’s discipled
by the, change I decided
I became the, change I provided
I got, game from the Bible
turned the, page in the Bible
provided a, way for revival
spiked a, wave in my vitals
spite was, a way for denial
I was, estranged to the Bible
but there’s no, chains in the Bible
though I’m, a gangsta disciple
Jesus, came with disciples
I speak to, pain and our trials
because every, gangsta’s a child
living through, anger and clouds
so I’m more than a, gangsta disciple
but I have to, disciple the gangstas
because they aren’t, rivals or strangers
they’re just, looking for angels
so I, disciple the dangerous
and dedicate my, life to the shameful
and to the, blamed and disabled
not just offering a, cane to the able
but also a, way for the strangled
—

Ladies and Gentleman, Boooyyysss and Girrrrlsss, Bear witness the 9th Wonder of The World, The Most Profitable and Replicated Kingdom In The History of Mankind, The Biggest and Most Inclusive Republic in The World! Complete with endless amenities, from Bed and linens, to sink and toilet, within the same room, from spouting low water pressure showers with both hot and cold options, to microwaves, paid cable, on site library, school, laundry, gym and dining with three free meals of no choice and pop machines, on site jobs and it’s complete with the Lowest grade of healthcare in the U.S., but it’s free! And in this Mighty Gladiator Arena, where mistakes are legend, and in your Own Mind, you can be Anything, except free! That’s right! I’m sure you’ve guessed it! So without further ado, I give you…(drumroll) PRISON! Where dreams are buried like treasure and numbers are people, the more the merrier! No need to wait, Free Admission For All! None exempt, so Step Right Up! You’ll never forget this experience! Plus, what’s a life without regrets anyway?! YOLO! So live a little, come and enjoy the most exclusive Country Club! Pocket size don’t matter here! Though we thrive in low-income occupants, buuut every now and again, we entertain the uppity also! Life never stops, but here, we pause it or slow it down a little for you! Compliments of the State! Here, you are preserved, drowning in self reflection by the minute! If you dont have it all or enough, what more do you have to lose?! If life is too much, come on in, get some R&R! We’re all invisible here! Room windows are just tall and wide enough for you to be on display for hourly onlookers. Shhh, On the Wizard of Oz, when Dorothy clicked her heels three times, saying, “there’s no place like home” guess what?! She was envisioning this, Prison! A True Home To All!

For my Boys

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Feel, then Share this, matter of fact, you don’t gotta feel it, but share it! There’s many more that have this same pain and are either new to it, or have gone through it far longer than me! My son’s 10th birthday just passed by this Mother’s Day. Already being in prison, what I want most is to connect back with my son. Again, I still haven’t been able to talk to him, I don’t know what he knows or thinks of me. I haven’t seen many pictures of him, but I’m not mad. I’m hurt! I hurt like hell! I won’t get into extra detail, but this is what I want you to share. This hurts me, grown men do feel, but this won’t break me. I don’t mean that as a shot at his mom, she is still loving and providing for our son, so for that I’m happy because he still is loved, even if my love isn’t felt.
This hurt isn’t a set back, or a reason for me to get mad and hate the world, every morning I wake up and say to myself, “what if the worst happens?” and my answer is, “and still I’ll go on”. What if…the answer is, so what! Don’t let bad news break and define you. This only has tested my foundation and validated how fortified what I’m building and becoming is. But even more, this is fuel! This pain is motivation! These tears welled, and I kept them from falling, because my Will rose even higher. I’m going to work even harder to get my message out there! I’m going to build and be better every.single.day! Prison is a platform, we feel and go through everything every day. I’m going to write more, read more, speak more, pray more, believe more, listen more, lead more, and be that dad that my sons will be proud of. Seeing the effects of my rise, instead of just the cause of my fall.
So to anybody behind bars, even in life, but especially yaw in prison, take that pain and let down. Let it feed you, feed off that raw hurt and become stronger and better for it, because the real test and measure of a person down, is how they react when more bad news comes around. Don’t get tired, get activated, because pain is just reminding you that you feel, don’t hide from what you feel, because to feel means you are alive. My son may not know it, but when he does witness my life, he will see life and that I’m living. He will see light! What will your loved ones see?
Grit and Grind! Prison is a mindset, your feet may be bound and your wrists chained, but your mind is free! So until your body matches your mind, fight and become, don’t just take it and remain. I hurt even now, but it’s koo, I’m alive, and I’m not the only one going through it. Someone somewhere always has it worst, so reach out to those yaw know, because pain isn’t only felt when its spoken. Support isn’t just there when you doing good, but they understand not only when, why but also allow you to have bad days without judgement and offer their support, even if you don’t accept. (thanks Katie)
I was down Sunday, but I’m up Monday, and ready for the week..one day at a time, even when you feel weak, you’ll still make it through the week
R.U.S.S.
—
For my Boys-

“Drive.U.Thru”
my mom laid the road,
so I could drive through.
just as I did sons, embrace the bumps,
because they’ll drive you.
at times you may wreck,
take heed to your hindview.
it’s not all about whats infront,
because some things can blind you.
willingly accept, then apply positive directions,
I hope my voice is OnStar inside you.
“don’t go there, I been there, and did that..
please do better than what I do.”
there are always dangerous alleyways and deadends,
creeping up around the corner and beside you.
there may even be unclear roads and foggy days,
but trust in God and let that be the light that guides you.
at times you may not even want to hit the road,
regardless how you turn over, get up and let love ignite you.
you can even get fatigued by the same result,
but you will break thru, make self belief blaze like a fire inside you.
and just like my mom’s bumps in the road inspired me,
I hope the bumps I paved, motivates and inspires you.
so you can traverse great distances over smoother terrain,
because good roads last longer than drive thru’s.
—

“leaving you, left me”

I leave you with goodbyes
I leave your goodbyes, trying to keep my glow
I left your goodbye, and lost my glow
because I’m left inside of goodbye, until I see my son
and then I can glow again
but without you, all I know is
shade
darkness
a pit
a hole
abyss
I’m back in prison, after our visit
when I held then sun in my arms
still hot from our embrace
but now fading cold and dark from your distance
I never believed I could leave your goodbye, still glowing long after
because life without your son is darkness
every time I leave you, parts of me fall and get left behind
only to be found when I see you again
but I smile my pain to convince you my joy
and I wear your hurt from our goodbye like a father should
but so once I left your goodbye
I left my glow behind with it…
you didn’t see it, I wouldn’t let you
and now im back in prison, cold and dark
until next time I see my son,
sorry you have to leave, even though is leaves me dim
I’ll never let go of your light
goodbye

Happy birthday Josiah!

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“sorry son”
I love you and miss you
I wish I could kiss you
the distance has chiseled
a piece from my middle

though I’ve had my issues
its nothing against you
it must have convinced you
that I’m less than gentle

I never would hurt you
I never had hurt you
though I know I hurt you
ever since we drifted further

and I don’t deserve you
I know I’m not worthy
my tears always flurry
and fall in a hurry

when I think of you hurting
and the things that you heard
but I swear that I’m searching
and my arms are still reaching

but I can not reach you
not because I haven’t tried
maybe some rather I leave you alone
but I can never leave you alone

I try to respect them
you have a father!
he isn’t white
you have another side

he miss you daily
he wish he could write
he wish he could call
and you pick up the phone

you’ve been around
when he’s on the phone
but you do not know
and that kills him slow

but he doesn’t show
he just prays and hopes
because you’re so close
but to you he’s a ghost

to them he’s a monster
but that’s just not honest
he respects your mama
it’s just that his past is always conjured

but it ends in a comma
because he’s still living
his story is still being written
and its far from finished

that was a chapter
he’s building a future
but you’re what he’s after
you’re not a bastard

you’re more than a fraction
I know that you’re fractured
and you’re half
of a man you may be chasing after

and your mama don’t know it
you may not how to voice
being a child feeling a void
it’s not like you have a choice

so I get it son
but one day this will be over
and no matter where you go
I’ll be right over your shoulder

as you get older
we’ll become even more closer
and hopefully we’ll both capture closure
until then, happiness will only be a matter of exposure
—
“10years ago”
10 years ago I became a father
10 yeas ago I remember holding you swaddled
10 years ago I remember holding you and your mama
10 years ago I remember you sucking on my lip like it was your bottle
10 years ago I remember holding you close with your eyes closed watching you swallow the last of the foam from the formula in your bottle
10 years ago I seen the first reflection of me
10 years ago I kissed the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen
10 years ago I witnessed the birth of a King
10 years ago I held you up like Simba in the Lion King
10 years ago I forgot about all of my problems
10 years ago I had risen up from out of the bottom
10 years ago I was no longer feeling hollow
10 years ago I held your moms hand as she pushed you into this world like a champ and I snipped the umbilical cord that followed
10 years ago I reached the peak of the highest mountain
10 years ago I held up the world back when it weighed 8pounds, 5.8ounces
10 years ago seems more than just 10 years ago
but how can anyone keep count the age of a miracle?
Happy Birthday Josiah, I love you son
—

Happy Birthday Josiah,
its kind of crazy celebrating your birthday alone this year in somber guilt-like silence yet again, and ironically it falls on Mother’s Day! Because your birthday is the first time I witnessed the strength of a woman, that being your Mom on that day, and the miracle of birth, that being the King you arrived as. I won’t waste time speaking of the past, I want to just say briefly if possible that you give me so much strength and hope, also motivation in life. Because you were the first thing in life that showed me that I can be something more than just myself, and that’s a father. I took that for granted, but I now know that being a father is more than just being a parent. I never had that example, but its no excuse because when a child is brought to you, we have no choice but to learn on the job and let go of self and get ready to give without complaint. Give everything with a smile! Having a child isn’t the weight, the weight is actually learning to be selfless. A father is just as needed as a mother, for guidance, strength, discipline, love, protection, identity, and understanding the role of a man and how he is to act towards women. A father is not in prison, but he Can, father from prison. I can’t right now with you, but I’m building every piece of myself up so when I get that chance again, I won’t mess that up. You are so beautiful, great, better than me, and the first moment I understood the depth and meaning of sacrifice. There’s nothing in life I wouldn’t give up just to be able to know you again and earn being your father because I know coming into your life as if I’m entitled to loved listened to and respected is not right nor realistic. But I’m comforted by the job your mom is doing, and though I know the importance of fathering, I know even more the importance of showing you that I will respect your mom and wait until she is ready, if there’s anything I can show you is the importance of respecting and loving women. Especially since I didn’t know that lesson as early as I should’ve, and people deal with their pain in their own time and ways. So again, I’ll silently celebrate your birthday again for another year, truthfully in pain, but I don’t even compare it to anything that you may feel and not know how to voice yet. God you’re so beautiful..starring at your picture as I write this. Man I love you dude, I really do..but you getting to that age where this mushy stuff might not be you…and you’ll probably be beyond kissing age by time I’m out, but I’ll hug the shit out of you! Memories I already had with you can never be taken away, so I just work everyday to prepare myself for the days to come that I will have more. Even if I’m met with your anger, I’ll take it, give you time, and keep coming back time and time again, because I will never not be there again. I will never fail that duty to you Son. Yea man..Happy Birthday Jooce! Josiah Henry-James Wardlow
10 years old smh…Sheesh! Girlfriends are a thing now huh?! If you’re a lover like your parents..they in trouble! 😉
I love you Son