Prose of a Con

Poetry and Prose by Russell Wardlow

Spirit

I’m Really, Really

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I’m really good
if you allow me to be
I’m really bad
if you help me to be
I’m really a stereotype
if you expect me to be
I’m really misunderstood
if you think you know me

I’m really a rebel
if you try to limit me
I’m really radical
if you prefer me like you
I’m really resilient
if you try to suppress me
I’m really misunderstood
if you think you know me

I’m really peaceful
if you don’t provoke war
I’m really passive
if you don’t provoke force
I’m really playful
if you open the door… I don’t like to be bored
I’m really misunderstood
and my pain is the source

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

The Wisdom, Before the Fool

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to know what you are
you must see something alike
to know who you are
you must see something alike,
that acts unalike

and so I told my celly
I know I’m a person
because there are many others characterized the same as I
people
making me a part of a species

I know what I like
by experiencing the things I do not like
to know who you are
you must experience who you are not
something and someone in opposition
to your convention or position

therefore, how I know I’m going out of my way
is because you never go out of yours
and normally I wouldn’t allow
who someone is,
to dictate who I am

but when I am being who I am-
trying to become,
you make me feel like
you think that it may be something
which it is not

and you seem too used to this thing
you may think that it is
therefore, to stop any further confusion
ima be who I need to be
in relation to you and me

no longer shall I go out of my way
in my way, Way must stay
from here on

therefore at times one must be
whom one is not
to protect that which one truly is

and so this is the battle
to end the impending uncivil war of
wars, worlds, and words

because this is a nature
I’m all too familiar with
as you are also
though it illustrates the first word
of my last name

‘oh word?’
yea, word
but it’s all one
now that we made a sentence

Spring

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nature
love me enough to rain
down upon me
for I am the dirt, the vast
earth you soil
yet even in the flood and muck
I will blossom like a lotus
and rise like Ra
for spring has sprung
and my Divine nature
has arisen
and is here, to reign

5th Element

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my head
leaned heavy against my hand
held up
watching a feather flutter and float
in the wind
I wondered if the bird missed it
or is it like a lost strand of hair?
it came and went
movements tug o warred between
sudden and subtle
jerking, then graceful
as if suctioned
then gusted away
becoming conscious of my own sound
it was my breath
stress,
a force of nature

Paintbrushed

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there’s this gigantic paint brush in my minds eye
it has evolved a hand
grabbing the brush with my words
it dips it into a canvass of paints
as wide as an ocean
and with that brush
my words grab hold, swivel and form life
broad strokes and intricate lines
life is colorful
so are my words
for fuck sakes
paint picture create
masterpiece