Poetry and Prose by Russell Wardlow
There’s not enough room in the universe for secrets.
If I had my milky way
I’d shoot for the stars
just to kiss you.
Then fall spell bound like a comet
until I’m grounded/
Though if there is no ground for any amount of time
am I falling
or am I flying?!
For what if falling in itself
but a perception.
All a matter of vantage experience and belief I suppose.
Admission is but a validation of an accepted reality
but who cares?
I kissed a star
and fell in love.
Kiss and Tales. 😉
May lie in my bed
scrolling thru lies in my head.
Should I deny or confess?
Or try and finesse?
When I reply
because eyeing your texts
is like pie in the sky I try to ingest.
I digress.
My life is a…
I shouldn’t try –
Adding my time to your chest
putting your heart beat under duress.
I rather be wise keeping my ‘why’s’ to my chest.
Suppressed.
Darkening this truth from the light it reflects.
I think I know why we connect.
You’re so much more, yet you know act its like being less.
Suddent truths may produce a rise in our stress.
Surprised how you rise despite
when most would fall to their demise,
from life’s bitter tests.
Purpose is perfect timing at best,
but forget time, to most, it’s just confining I bet.
Therefore, meeting you, I’ll just describe it as blessed.
Here’s to, poetic descriptions.
If, Rose Is your blush, then Violet your dress.
Now may I have this dance as I figure out how to confess.
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.
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.
“Go(o)d Looking”
I heard God was looking for me
I laughed
then retorted back,
“God created me right?
he knows where to find me.”
He put me in prison
I’m still here, even after I’ve repented
as far as I’m concerned, Good riddens
how can he lose sight of His children
especially me, I been through so much in plain sight, I was never hidden
isn’t he supposed to have this “all seeing” vision
now when I read the Bible, I feel like a critic
I don’t get it
questioning the credibility of every story that was written
and the reason why some just happen to be missin’
especially the mental state of the people that did it
calling themselves Catholics or Christians
different denominations?! I’ve been a denominator dominated because my skin is tinted
now I’m supposed to submit to His agenda
when I almost lost my life, where was His antennas?
where was he at every December on Christmas?
Christian Dior, or Christian Brothers, before I’m Christened or a Christian
and I’m the one that has to give forgiveness?
first He was vengeful, but “now” He “forgives” us?
for what? placing me in a pit of cobras spitting venom
its going on 7years in khaki’s, I missed the feel of denim
convenient, He’d be the reason for Good, and not the ‘evil’ sinners
bet if I listened to the New tes…damn, I wouldn’t be here to begin with
or maybe I would, I won’t lie, ever since I been in prison
I’ve been more willing
I was mad, I admit it
but cut off from distractions, I started building a friendship
that made an indent manifesting into a kinship
I wasn’t innocent
I was spiritually indigent
but I made amendments
I was conflicted
that got me convicted
but now I’m convinced with conviction
feeling of use, able to view the blueprint of what He has intended
call it purpose? In giving me all this pain upon my surface to contend with
with a cluster of talents perfectly blended
to talk with the next person that hears the name of God and gets offended
and tell them, hold up wait a minute
before you finish that sentence
God has been looking for you-
and though he can see you, he can’t find your heart if you keep it hidden
you’re not a victim
cut out the noise, and listen
and you’ll find that piece that leads to peace that you’ve been missin’
is key to your mission
now when God sees you, you’re in sync with His vision
and He doesn’t have to ask you, “who is it”
time isn’t your sentence
your pain isn’t your prison
it leads to your promise, purpose, and perdition
God offers a detour to every road driven
before your collision
but our own decisions are the very things blocking His vision
GOoD is Looking
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