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Prose of a Con

Poetry and Prose by Russell Wardlow

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Spirit

P.O.W.E.R.

October 27, 2020 by Russell Wardlow Leave a Comment

When it comes to matters of power, the human in us is first reluctant- That’s the part of ‘us’ connecting self to the ‘whole’, an internal response of equality and oneness. But then in that position of power, we must adapt, becoming comfortable in a way that effectively silences that voice.

We become used to it, used to quieting our conscience, listening outwardly instead at the physical results of our new found domain.

This is when our animalistic instincts, it’s carnality, takes form then takes over, acquiring an insatiable thirst and hunger for this power, forever silencing the humanity within us and largely ignoring the humanity of others to get what you want and where you desire to be.

Creating a narrative now of a greater good made by your position, an ends justifying the means, which serves you and your survivalist tactics. Now mirroring a mind with life inside the animal kingdom and the last bit of human left of you, becomes the contradictive need to be seen in a higher light.

But WHAT IF power can be harnessed with balance?! Some people crave a semblance of power, often feeling powerless or overpowered so that underlining motivation makes it hard to strike that balance. Making it easily abused once gained. Quickly forgetting the position you once held of powerlessness and how it felt.

Once power is sought in compensation, perspective is lost and selfishness becomes direction and domain and you become a Prisoner Of War’Er. A war you created or capitulated to which is called P.O.W.E.R.

Filed Under: Culture, Love, Spirit

Realest Shadows

October 25, 2020 by Russell Wardlow Leave a Comment

Contemplating my existence

has me feeling like

Plato

in constant physical meditation and application

seeing my immediacy more in depth than you.

The shadows on the walls

come off exactly as they are.

Even if what you see their natural bodies to be

may differ incredibly in reality

but thats your plane of existence

I’m at the soul of the matter

not the surface, but the reflection

what’s given off

and you can’t get past the prison of perception

and I can’t escape the prison of presence,

so who’s free?

Filed Under: Inside, Spirit

Upstanding

October 2, 2020 by Russell Wardlow Leave a Comment

How can we rise up

if there’s nothing to stand on?

Because they stand tall.

Because there’s so many of us they stand on.

So how will they stay up,

if there’s no one left to stand on.

Filed Under: Culture, Spirit

I is U

October 1, 2020 by Russell Wardlow Leave a Comment

Putting someone’s personal pain in perspective

is like a mirror

once you see yourself

now you see me

Filed Under: Culture, Spirit

Real Paradise

August 6, 2020 by Russell Wardlow Leave a Comment

Within our SPIRITS

Flowing throughout our bodies

Which we can express thru our hearts and minds

Paradise is not in this world

It’s within us

Which we express outwardly to the world

Identifying it as a place

But that place is us

Therefore paradise is where you make it

Where YOU choose

Paradise, like all things, is a matter of perception

Most of our thoughts, customs, wisdoms, morals, values and traditions

Have all been occupied and saturated

Any display of difference is met with indifference and intolerance

If not violence

As if it is a threat against, instead of, an opportunity to coexist with

But outside of what has been determined for you

Is what you have determined for yourself

Despite and against all odds

Even if what is odd, is You

See your Paradise

Embrace your Paradise

Become your Paradise

And then take it with you everywhere

So that peace and freedom may be with you always

Asé

Filed Under: Culture, Love, Spirit

My Mom is Harriett Tubman

July 6, 2020 by Russell Wardlow 3 Comments

She created her own underground railroad
alluding abusive persecution
sacrificing dark man for son
escaping the enslavement of toxic love
the chains of loss
the raping lies
the beatings of regret
the whippings of judgement
the lynchings of abandonment
and at the risk of her own life

She came back time and time again
rescuing her own heart
throughout the sentences of character and place
transcending the imprisonment of emotional turmoil
an insurrection all of her own
breaking down the walls that barricaded her freedom
she came back time and time again
rescuing her heart
even when others told her to let it go
to move on and start over
that she’d be better off without her heart
her heart may be better off without her
still she trekked
and journeyed further and deeper than most will ever voyage in a lifetime


She never forgot that she was a mother
no matter what she went through
no matter how heavy the weight she bared
she came back for us
each of her four kids
the four chambers of her one heart
knowing the possibility of a chamber or two rejecting her
but she weathered each eventual heart attack
because she’d become accustomed to the battles of heart
those once foreign and now all too familiar battles, made her

She had never knew true peace
embracing each war
standing tall after the dust settled as a Goddess of War
Like Harriet Tubman, but her name is Amanda Wardlow!
the last name sounds so fitting
My Mom was just as fierce brave and courageous as Ms Tubman
and her whole life has been an underground railroad
to which may not be properly appreciated until she’s no longer around
and they will be in awe of her strength survival and willing sacrifices

She is history embodied
and a story to be shared for the many women of past and future generations
but also as a testament to the extent of human capability and resilience
because her index of love knew no boundaries
however flawed she may be
or may have been
she was human in that way
audaciously flawed to perfection
humility amongst certainty
she knows who she is
accepting she may never live to be fully understood or appreciated
and that’s what Heroines are made of.

Filed Under: Culture, Love, Spirit, 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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