Prose of a Con

Poetry and Prose by Russell Wardlow

Trauma

A Moment of Darkness

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there’s a nefarious cloud
hovering
its dark, carnivorous dominion
fangs oozing black, thick syrupy liquid
forming into malevolent bodies of darkness
cloaking and devouring any source of light-
that was once my hope-
I only cling to you
although you escape my vision
your image lingers like nostalgia,
in my mind’s eye
only solace is captured
because your distance alludes my ego’s grip
but not my faith
your spirit acting as a net
saving me from a deeper plummet
into the abyss
kingdom of the unknown,
and fear
however improbable,
still I rest
with a heightened courage
complimenting me like a partners warmth
knowing you’ll be there
still
until light reigns once again
shinning upon us both
while
illuminating the path we trek
because darkness
was only ever
a moment
but you
and I,
eternal

Unplanned Destiny

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I wish they’d understand me
I wish they’d understand it
nothing goes as you planned it
becuz a plan is hard to manage
if they see from my vantage
they’d understand organic
because I’m never planning
that way I’d manage damage
because nothings expected,
now everything’s a blessing
carrying a lesson or message
I don’t know why we met…but,
I guess it was destined

Depth Perception

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I’m sinking
or drowning
I’ll let you tell-
the differences,
I’m thinking
or dreaming
I can’t tell-
the difference,
am I falling
or flying
is there any-
difference,
I’m either up
or down
I don’t know-
anything different,
I feel so-
different,
though things change
that,
never will

Gripping the Lines

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there’s a line
everywhere there are lines
lines that form
lines that border
and lines you don’t cross!
I’m gripping tight to this phone
where I’ve let a few slip from the corner of my seers
but I can’t be seen
and I can’t stop the leak
and I’m trying!
I’m trying so hard for this damn emotional dam NOT to break
because that is a line
a line that you don’t cross!
a line…that I can’t
I just can’t cross
because weakness preludes mealtime in the jungle
I can’t expose where, and that,
I may be weak…
or weakened
throughout any week
or day!
not even Sunday!
but the levy is wavering
my eyes are wading
and my heart couldn’t be any worse for wear
because I had nothing to lose once upon a time
then things, unforeseen, became good and well
but when the wellness is lost
then the well spills forth
and no tossed coins can change what is
so although this phone disconnected 5minutes ago
I’ve been here
clinging tight
pantomiming a conversation
while I sneakily wipe at my eyes
feigning laughter and a jovial disposition
hoping no predators or none the wiser
because if they see that line being crossed
there will be even more lines to be crossed
all to arrive back behind the same drawn lines,
which keep me safe
while hiding my pain
because at this phone station
I’m in camouflage
seen but unseen
and low enough as to not be heard
unless of course, the phone time expires
but who can tell, when I laugh so audaciously
through this misery,
this pit and pool of shame
but I must remain masked
because warriors don’t cry
and this phone…
well its my shield
and so I cling tight to it
because it could mean my life
and this gtl moment, was and has always been,
more than just a phone call
it was freedom
it was an embrace
it was peace
and it is my shield
therefore, I grip onto the lines
because this is one line that can never be crossed