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Prose of a Con

Poetry and Prose by Russell Wardlow

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Spirit

Hey You

August 12, 2017 by Russell Wardlow Leave a Comment

Hey you out there, what’s on your mind? Is it curiosity, adventure or sincerity? Bored in your own world with an interest in the taboo or sypathetically seeking an understanding and compassion of something beyond yourself and own experience/understanding. Do you pity me or comforted by my pain, possibly deflecting the pain, anger and emptiness inside of you while at peace with my agony? Do you feel I’m unjustly treated less than a person and hate the perception I will forever carry? What if I told you I was born with that perception? Do you wish we could trade places even for a day to feel how I feel? Are you free in your life or trapped by monotony, responsibility and failures? Do you feel like a let down, not good enough? Do you envy me? Do you think I have it easy? Are you content, have you found yourself? Do you see yourself in my words? Do you echo my pain? Are you empathetic or numb? Are you alive or existing? Do you ask questions or accept what is? Do you seek or accept what you see? Do you feel fulfilled or a void? Is life enough without love or does the pursuit of it limit life? Are emotions a prison or freedom? Are you free or imprisoned? Does your belief, hopes and faith conquer or fall to your fears? Prison is now my freedom because I am now liberated from secrets. My mistakes are out in the world and though my perception is tainted I am relieved of pressure from things I once hid. Are you so free? Do you walk under the weight of the secrets you hide? I used to envy you but now for some I feel sorry. The weight of reflection and questions can either end or give life but it’ll never make it easier, just more or less purposeful…hey you 

Filed Under: Culture, Spirit, Trauma

Body Language

August 12, 2017 by Russell Wardlow Leave a Comment

She never felt wanted 
Blush painted her face 
I felt it…the volcanic like heat of an erotic exhale
Raising the hair on my neck 
I sensed the electric flush of her skin
I saw the vision of desire, eclipsing her irises –
Divulging her secret while fighting the clouds of precipitation 
The pent up protrusion of her diaphragm echoing the 
Contained rage of need within, against my chest 
That iconic moment had an expiration, and for that, she resented me
But I heard the angelic vibrations of her throat
Summon up a fulfilled “thank you”
With one last heave of her chest, and an exhale 
More carnal, yet serene 
We drifted into time…
All she asked for – a hug.

Filed Under: Love, Mercy, Spirit, Trauma

Set me free 

August 12, 2017 by Russell Wardlow Leave a Comment

Set me free from this jail
Set me free from this cell
Set me free from this hell
I wanna be free to excel 
I wanna be free to accel
I wanna be free to exhale..

Filed Under: Inside, Mercy, Spirit, Trauma

August 10, 2017 by Russell Wardlow Leave a Comment

Let me inhale your infinite effect
Your aura, scent, pheromones
Willingly I fall into the spell of your alluring glare
Enchant me with the orchestra of your vocal cords
Soothe my soul, ignite my spirit & set pace to my heart
Fill me with the taste of every lie & truth
Dispelled from the nectar of your lips, I’ll digest it as life
Cast me into oblivion with the vibrations of your touch
And I’ll gladly exist there eternally with the memory of us.

https://proseofacon.com/2017/08/10/48/

Filed Under: Love, Spirit

Overdose

August 1, 2017 by Russell Wardlow Leave a Comment

Notice me
Know this me
Know this thing
That we call love
Dopamines
Dope to me
Overdose..

Filed Under: Culture, Love, Spirit

Black is the New Black

July 15, 2017 by Russell Wardlow Leave a Comment

Black feet- black cleats- Athlete- Black dreams

Black fleece- bah bah black sheep- black swan

Black Maybach, black man in the back seat- black streets

Black mask- black duffle bag- black thundercat

If money is over everything..then name everything under that

Black heart- black eyes – black tar, add veins

Black pain- back pain- got a lotta weight on me,

And my family waiting on me- so it’s hard to be patient

Pacing- angst in fate- facing hate- placing blame

Ached with shame- chasing gains- til you make it rain-

Til you make a name- but still, oiled skin,

Add rain, black horse, add reins- black trophies,

Add chains, green paper, add change- black life, add strain

Black face, add vain- black hoodie, add aim!

Filed Under: Culture, Spirit

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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.

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