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Prose of a Con

Poetry and Prose by Russell Wardlow

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Trauma

Minutes Uncertain

September 13, 2017 by Russell Wardlow Leave a Comment

1 minute we fight, 1 minute we love

1 minute we hug, 1 minute we shove

1 minute we talk, next minute a fit

A whole minute we kiss

Next minute full of some venom we spit

It’s back and forth, but I put you first

Yet you wear your heart on your sleeveless shirt

So I’ll leave you first, instead of leavin’ hurt.

Filed Under: Culture, Love, Trauma

Shunned

September 12, 2017 by Russell Wardlow Leave a Comment

Addic-tions

Prescrip-tions

Afflic-tions

Convic-tions

Constric-tions

Conflicted Deci-sions

Ten-sion

Drifted vi-sion

Commitment is prison 

Content with colli-sions.

Filed Under: Culture, Inside, Trauma

Suddenly Awake

August 29, 2017 by Russell Wardlow Leave a Comment

This thing, this theme of dreams

These dreams aren’t what they seem,

The seam that I cut- it brings forth demons- they intervene

And form nightmares, I’m stuck in between.

Filed Under: Trauma

Temporary Relief

August 29, 2017 by Russell Wardlow Leave a Comment

I crave the pain in watching you,

walk away-

You’re timeless in your value,

I’ve easily forgotten the day-

Once your silhouette dissipates,

I’m back to reality-

Deprived the cure of this cancerous place,

Walking back into a world of maladies-

Friend, family or women,

But those hours in your company, you become everything in that visit-

Stay for a while

The leave for the time being-

So my memory can paint in your smile,

While you see the pain in my eyes leaving.

 

Filed Under: Love, Trauma

Thoughts Drift

August 29, 2017 by Russell Wardlow Leave a Comment

My eyes teeter open – I’ve lost focus, yet remain hopeful

My conscious quakes, eyelids cascade, my thoughts seem vocal

I yearn to be seen as I see in my dreams, but that’s the illusion

An unwelcomed confusion – when these blissful imageries turn into morbid intrusions.

Filed Under: Inside, Spirit, Trauma

Mirror, Mirror

August 25, 2017 by Russell Wardlow Leave a Comment

Look me in the eyes 
You act like you strong 

But you know that you weak, 

Your body will fold

You’re showing fatigue 

Your conscience is toxic 

Like a cobra that speaks

Be honest and stop it 

Your hopes are too bleak

What do you see

It can’t be yourself 

Don’t break your reflection 

Keep your hands to yourself 

You don’t deserve a chance and the plans 

You demand, you damaged yourself 

You’re less of a man

Seeking what isn’t yours 

Paradoxically time has a limit

Your life is seepin’ through bleeding pores

Every wave is antagonistic to a cast away

Keeping you from reachin shores 

Every goal is a hurdle 

And I’m that obstacle keeping you from reaching yours

Every day is a new disguise 

A new disgust you’ve never seen before 

You’ve never had it all together 

Look me in the eyes inside of the shattered pieces on the floor.

Filed Under: Love, Mercy, 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

  • Untitled February 25, 2021
  • Fight to Survive February 25, 2021
  • Miserable Company February 24, 2021
  • Sleepless February 23, 2021
  • A Moment of Darkness February 23, 2021

Themes

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  • Inside
  • Love
  • Mercy
  • Spirit
  • Trauma

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