Poetry and Prose by Russell Wardlow
All of the things I’ve went through
Now I can barely see through my window
Sealed doors will never let the wind through
No air and alone
Sometimes I think if the wind has been through
The things I went through
But through it all, I’ll still get through
You’ll probably never know, maybe one day
But I saved blocks of time and space
Hours of thoughts and memories
Nights of dreams and sleeplessness
Plenty of ink and paper
All for you…
Antagonistically the amount of buttons we push throughout our lifetime-
I have devoted as much time for love,
Countless time and an infinite amount in tow I saved –
A space, thought, memory, daydreams, pen and paper
But most importantly, a day
To infinitely press your mom’s buttons
Just to get to my son on Sunday.
Prison was punishment
but I can’t stomach it
They put a price on my life
I gotta fight for my life
I broke my left after a right
They rollin’ dice on my life
Lions eat mice in this life
I need a knife for my life
Cuz they’ll stick a knife in my life
Might have to take a life for my life
And I might get life for that life
A lot in my eyes that I hide
Say I’m alright but I lie
Cuz I have a fight, I have pride
On borrowed time while inside
How much time til outside
My neighbor just lost his life
Before he made it outside
Everyday will I see night
Every night will I see light
I thought time had paid that price
But that price could be my life.
The inspiration that women incite,
Excites – and that’s insight
For inside, in that dim light
Within that dim life
In the depths of a lions den haunted by them nights
When the ink pen writes
every ink bleeds, the pen cries
symbolically when a man cries
with no woman in-sight.
My sunshine, is my son’s smiling
My sunshine, is answered calls when I’m dialing
My sunshine, is pictures sent with letters
My sunshine, has no bearing with the weather
My sunshine, is visitations
My sunshine, is freedom, the prize of patience
My sunshine, not a star but a part of matter
My sunshine, is mattering to those that matter
My sunshine, is every time I can smile
As time eclipses, I notice I haven’t felt my sunshine in a while.
I let my shoulders speak, amongst the coldest peaks
No woe is me, no coat on me
My Edgar Allen Po-etry, flows in me, floetry
When focusing-
I’m a poacher for hope, when hope is hopeless in a culture
When the coach is only me-
And the phone don’t ring, I cope
‘Cause internally, my heart still beats to the songs I sing.