Prose of a Con

Poetry and Prose by Russell Wardlow

Mercy

Re-membered

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Remember?
Re-member.

your being, being
dismembered
so to memory, being
lost
who you are?
what you are?
how, you are?

Remember?

Re-member.

you are the individual, indivisible
you are the separated, inseparable
you are a part of a Divine Oneness-
creative consciousness, without form
form distracts
form subtracts
form is to interact
formlessness attracts
formlessness contracts Truth.
a universal whole
family of One
a sacred body of eternity
you are member of All things
and all things, member to you

Remember?

Re-member.

this is your sacred truth
every atom of creation, is a part of you

Remember?

Re-member.

you are not separate
although, you think separately
your thoughts become you

therefore, your speech separates

and you become, separated

but even this, is impossible
your belief, no matter how strong
can only misunderstand
what is and has been created
but can not change, Truth.

your separation is only illusion
lies you are told
the lies, you believe
are the lies, you live
but you are no liar
only mistaken, forgotten

Remember?

Re-member.

no belief, no matter how strong
can change you part to the whole
the infinite unseen and formless body
of God
only differentiated in flesh
your soul, has been created for all of time
your spirit is your eternal life force
it can not be recreated, nor perish
it is not yours
it belongs to the All

Remember who you are.
Re-member what you are.
Remember how you are.

Remember?
Re-member

Good Damage

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there’s value in brokenness
you just have to want to
see it
in yourself
then you’ll identify
with someone else
needing to be helped

I think my shell
has been my longest-lived
prison cell
my vocal heart quelled
by a development jailed
erosive emotions guarded and hailed
in the wake of hope, one could only rebel

there’s honor in honesty
I say this humbly, I’m depraved
with nothing, it’s hard to be brave
when I only see graves
I brace too much to embrace
but how can one behave?
when that way means, be slaved

but there’s value in us
cutting calendars up
living and feeling is challenge enough
detaching from time until released
what an irony, huh?
every over-pressured coal creates a diamond
if help is mining, you’ll see us shinning, just look!

Empac-thize

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empathize with the devil
advocate for the ghettos
break ground with the pebbles
sympathize with the rebels

tell the pennies they’re quarters
show them their special importance
cut the chords and live cordless
now be boundless and voyage

tell the men to be boyish
tell the women be girlish
it’s OK to be grown-ish
but don’t lose touch with the child in you-
it’s more your truth, you should own it

tell the whites that they us
I’m with the blacks, ‘nough’s enough!
don’t let the creme overdo it
can’t bake a crust too stuffed

tell the prisons, revolt!
can’t change from distance, remote
don’t let the scape get your goat
don’t let the hate grip your throat

scream to the love, live on!
then tell the dark, dream on!
then tell the kids, dream more!
don’t cut down trees that we need-
release, just breath, and be more!

See Me Right

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you can not see me
adding your blockers
how can you appreciate me
in your own likeness
you can not empower my ability
adding a kennel
you can’t enjoy my growth
negotiating limits
you met me in a cage
I’m more limitless than encaged senses
free your receptors
so you perceive me as I am truly
not circumstantially
I’m as expansive as any being
if you let me be it
or not
no matter how much less you see
it doesn’t obstruct how vast I am

Vent

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I feel if
I don’t come out all tough
then it’ll seem like prison
wasn’t hard enough on me
because I don’t fit the stereotype
of exiting after a decade

if I come out all silent
then I’ll be pitied
seen as traumatized
too much cautious space given
and tiptoes echoing my surroundings

but if I come out happy, then what?
am I crazy?
did prison not work?
did it not pummel and beat me into submission?
will you not take heed to the trauma that I endured
because I’m not expressing it outward?

why do I have to be a certain way
for you to acknowledge or keep in mind
what it could have been for me in here
without it dominating my disposition?

I’d like to live life and not have the mug
paranoia and emotional dysfunctions prison creates
I want to be sensitive and let go
I want to be able to cry and laugh
while still saying, yea, prison traumatized me
I struggle at sometimes more than other
yet everyday is battle like recovering addicts
but I get by because I aspire to strive thrive and
do more than just survive, because I am more
than prison

but if I don’t come out worse for wear,
how many will not get the attention they need
because I showed up and came out looking alright
I’m not the norm, listen, I am the exception
trust me!
I’m prideful enough to hide my wear and be armor
so I can have enough in me to go back and be a benefit

I have always had to fit some stereotype my whole life
can I just be soft cuddly and emotionally available
tend to a woman’s tears or maybe in some
distant universe we can share tears
and only the warrior surfaces when the time is pronounced

this is so heavy and draining
I have to think about what you think of me
that I can’t think enough of what I think of me
and what I think those thoughts should mean for me
so I can do more than think of who I should be
because I just wanna be

but you may not know this
you need an indicator to verify a stereotype
or to cancel one
so it can help you decide what action to take
stop looking for signs
everyone hides
faith isn’t seen, yet it is
neither is disguise, except it is

someone just tell me, tell us that it is alright
alright to just be, and there are people out there
that can handle and embrace us in their lives
why look for something already pure and perfect?
make it so

Pain On Me

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God
grant that I become more than dirt
manifest me as earth
and let the sky rain everyone’s pain

so that the progress of dirt mud to soil
can become the depths of truth
blooming solutions
and blossoming healing

in this field of love
and I ask
the pollen of empathy
be picked up by the wind of compassion

so that the seeds of oneness
can cross-pollinate with the plains of indifference
growing this divine cycle
between earth, and the sky of wisdom

inhaling the air of knowing
pulled by the gravity of peace
keeping us all grounded, balanced
and let this planet be called righteous

the actions manifested as justice
as it lies in the hands of the universe of harmony
while the stars reflect kindness
and All connected, beneath their light

Ra,
let it rain pain on me
I can bear it, I was made for it
liberate me from fear
so that I may only live in love

Hotep, Ashe