Prose of a Con

Poetry and Prose by Russell Wardlow

Trauma

I Write

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“I write…”

I write
because I questioned what is wrong wit me
these worldly things controlling me
relations take a toll on me
pain don’t show diplomacy
cried an ocean openly
emotions put a hole in me
emoting from the soul in me
singing like its jodeci
I guess they call it poetry
but I ain’t know its poetry
poignantly…
just speaking from the po’ in me
the Edgar Allen Poe-in-me
I speak about it openly
pain enhances potency
I hope you feel it potently
just sip the potion knowingly
tho it opens you, it slows the bleed..ing

pain has a way of driving you-
turn the wheel
words can hurt and heal
best to embrace the worst
tasting all the pain dispersed
the only way to chase a cure,
is face the mirror…

you ain’t gotta name a demon
to know its a demon
you ain’t gotta know the reason
to know there’s a meaning
and having all the answers
don’t make u a genius
if you only do what you can-
its just convenience

it isn’t reaching
it isn’t dreaming
it ain’t believing
thoughts,
can be misleading
feelings,
can be misleading
words,
can be misleading
actions,
can be misleading
visions…
well, you get the picture

life can be a prison
instincts feel like redemption
gut, relieves the tension
don’t worry bout your feelings
just worry if you feel it
don’t worry bout the judgement
guilt is always building
shame built up to a building
fear is the pavilion
that shades us from the sun of dealing
so the dark is always so appealing

he looked beyond the Sun,
then said, I love you God
He looked down at the Sun,
then said, I love you Son
He looked down at the earth,
and said, I love you daughter
the world can build up dirt,
that’s why I gave you water
he looked beyond the Sun,
then said, I love you God
He looked down at the Sun,
then said, I love you Son
He looked down at the earth,
and said, I love you daughter
the world can build up dirt,
that’s why I gave you water

to wash away your hurt,
that’s why I gave you water
to wash away your pain,
that’s why I gave you water
to wash away your fears,
that’s why I gave you water
to wash away your tears,
that’s why I gave you water
now you can clean your hurt away
and you can clean your fears away
then you can rinse those tears away
now you ready for those rainy days

I write
because I questioned what is wrong wit me
these worldly things controlling me
relations take a toll on me
pain don’t show diplomacy
cried an ocean openly
emotions put a hole in me
emoting from the soul in me
I guess they call it poetry
but I ain’t know it’s poetry
poignantly…
just speaking from the po’ in me
the Edgar Allen Poe-in-me
I speak about it openly
pain enhances potency
I hope you feel it potently
just sip the potion knowingly
tho it opens you, it slows the bleed..ing

compromise

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love, hate
push, pull
fight, run
give, take
hurt, heal
up, down
silence…
scream!
trying to find a balance
between you and me
trying to get us back
to what we used to be

I’m losing my way
I follow your eyes,

you’re full of yourself
but I’m hollow inside

I tell you my truth
you bottle, ignite

I relent, I digress
you argue to fight

I try to be loyal
you doubt and despise

I’ve swallowed my pride
I’m drowning inside

my day
is your night

your dark
is my light

this is what sharing feelings feels like
an arduous plight
arson and strife
sharpening knifes
a heart being sliced

wounds cauterized
by emotions marginalized
warring for a heart that we’ve ostracized
guess balance and sacrifice together is just compromise..

get out

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Feeling this parasite inside my head
I think its trying get out
I do not blame it
inside is caved in
should’ve never came in
but if he makes it out-
maybe we can shake hands
and I’ll ask “how”
because I’m trying to get out too
I need to get out soon
I feel numb
I feel like I’ve lost touch
a hermit-
I never get out much
visions depicting regret
I’m just an upset
admit I obsess
quit! quick, switch the subject
forehead full of sweat
face full of tears
sorry I’m backed up
I’ve held them for so many years
I’ve held on for so many years
new days bring new fears
and I’m at the end of the pier
about to jump off
but I can not swim
tired of being stuck in myself
I tap out, I give..

shadows

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Walled off..
no mirrors, yet spy when I can
distorted reflections have eyes of their own
see myself close
long nose, lie when I can
walking among shatters
broken pieces, now there is too much of me
I see too much of me
you’ll soon get enough of me
there’s not enough space here for you,
and all of us…?
I meant, all of me
kinda..sorta
you won’t get it
many things I never let go, and only left bottled up
wallowed in woes
shame flavored liquor- bottoms up
help never follows up
tomorrow gets swallowed up
my yesterdays, ominous
presently stuck,
memory burrows like borrowers
led to belief
follow the lead
followed then led
but leaders are followed
and these shadows won’t leave me

God I Really Need an Anchor

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God I really need an anchor

lately I been feeling anger

rising to the surface my mirror depicts a stranger

I been trying to do different but I’m caught up in the wrong angles

still struggling to understand everything u put me thru tho I don’t wanna blame ya so I’m not pointing fingers

its just that the people around me, live more for the symbol of their twisted fingers

and I get caught in the middle amongst my other hang ups

mirror reflections projecting a stranger

veering from sections that direct me to danger

standing in pride puddles soakn my ankles

copn when recorded cordphones get tangled

how can I be a leader if they rather I lead them to war

their problems lead me away from calls where I find respite talkin to real loved ones in order for them to settle a score

but I can’t fault them tho, there aint too much to do really so problems become dug up whenever ur bored

I’m soaked in all these fuckin pissin contest amongst lions seeing who has the loudest roar

and I swear I can roar with the best of them, u as my witness but I quit that years ago

its hard looking out on this yard and believing in miracles

those closest to me don’t even believe, they rather lay their faith in a finished product

and only venture to listen or talk to me when its more convenient for them but I accept it as needed company if I’m being honest

they can’t see who I used to be, and who I am now

versus my destiny that I’m somehow tryna plan out

but they’ll be around later with their hearts and demands out

trying to flip things making me feel guilty with their hands out

Im struggling, omg I swear I struggle

this part is for u, yaw know who u are when I said it I meant it I swear that I love u

but that’s just not good enough huh when I’m not close enough to help u out or even touch u

delayed gratification has became my strength but you allow it to crutch u

pain and the pressures of life proffer promise and purpose but yaw allow it to crush u

I went thru so many names I’ve forgotten who I was way before I came here, forget an alias that made me alien just call me Russell

never mind again call me young russ-resilent under stressful situations

or better yet, WayOfLife, becuz even now, I just live thru it, and thru-out my limitations

I call out from this box when Im in need of ventilation

but how come I’m seen as the sick one but I get on the phone and try to be patient, but I just happen to be the one that’s not the patient

deep down I love her god, but I don’t think that she notice

I also love her too respectfully but deep inside she’s a cobra

I love them too but they selfish with no belief and no culture

oh and I love them too and tho they free, they ain’t living life, they’re just inside of a coma

I guess I love easy and fall hard, the characteristics of anyone lonely enough hiding behind a fasade

I try loving those that its toughest to but love aint always kosher

I try living to love, but all I know is fighting these wars inside of myself that I scribe inside of my poems

what’s life, but choices made from a bunch of conflicting moments

I need u but don’t go to you in those moments when u could make me the strongest

I see prison as my platform but I struggle to own it

my perception and my persona keep me feeling lonely

I think I miss my mom, and maybe the raw feeling of love

too many years I been numb, but relationships always work to both break u and heal u up

could any woman even truly wait and not let another man feel her up

speaking like a man, saying she got needs too, but she still in love

and what about that estrange relationship between a father and his son

my son said I was a bad boy today cuz I’m in jail

I said u right but daddy is in grown up timeout trying to get well

I told him u have to love, listen forgive, and be nice then u can have it all

he listened and showed me real love, I challenge adults to do the same, see he wasn’t mad at all

he told me to hold on so he can put his socks, then came back and listened

its funny how we handicap our kids trying to hide things to keep them safe but the are more resilient and really they pay attention

he’s 6 when I asked him does he know what I do everyday he said that I wear the same thing everyday, ha how would he know

I corrected him saying I got sweats and stuff too but those were just my visiting clothes

I also workout, do my homework and try to help others

one minute left, we said our goodbyes, shared a kiss and said we love each other

if all ur wrongs are lesser than mine, than maybe u should see how u sound trying to compare and name one

responsibility, fault and pride are hard concepts, i used to struggle with blame, I rather not blame but everyday I accept being the blamed one

how can YOU change but somehow in your head accept me as incapable of change and being the same one

I wouldn’t say it out loud, I’m more passive and forgiving now, but I listen to so many from the stand point of me being crazy yet I feel like the only sane one

sirens and violence and riots im on autopilot reading signs and minds doing time times hard times,

rewind, remind me of a past I keep behind to hopefully keep my silence inside of me…shhhh

prison will make u a sociologist with sociopathic behavior

worst moments have me on the other side of a conscientious russian roulette bullet chamber

in prison I’m an indentured slave, fighting for freedom and favor

listening to my siblings vent of how we’ve ventured as strangers

voices in my head screaming hearing their pain in my absence but before it exits my mouth those voices are strangled

I can’t let certain emotions show while these waves are rocking and rising even though I can’t swim, and this prison cruise ship is tainted

I played enough with fate and im not feeling any braver

standing strong for so many years on a wavy foundation

guilt from my mistakes, I tried saving so many, joked about how I’m a ‘captain save a’

but now im in need of a savior

so like I said, God I really need an anchor.

Drowning

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I can’t swim

maybe you’ve mastered doggy paddling for a moment

but with a speed-like panic and less calm across the surface of water

like me

but you never knew how exactly to swim with any finesse, skill or certainty

especially when it came to deepness

but then there’s a sudden panic that engulfs you at moments notice

without time to decide

the moment you see someone you love sinking

it overwhelms any sense of self

including self preservation

you don’t ponder what you can’t do

urgently you quickly think what you can do

and how

taking action without the self serving step we take of ensuring success

that would take too much time there’s no time to waste

any mental lapse is a time lapse

deciding life or death

seems there’s never enough time in life..

when meaning creeps into its fragile ever changing picture

you’ve always been a quick learner whenever reason was applied

with a great photographic memory

when it came to the simplicity of concepts

so within a second, you believe you can master in an instance

what has evaded your abilities throughout your lifetime

maybe it evaded you because of fear-

that crude calculation of self preservation

its roots in humiliation from failing what seems so natural and easy for most

although you struggle,

believing yourself too old for new tricks

making the decision to steer clear of all hardships the rest of your life

if you can help to at least

what’s the point of adding more struggle to this painful experience we call life

or maybe it’s the panic from the finality of failure and what that means

I mean, at some level, we all fear death

self preservation being a synonym for fear

but we trick our minds in the acts of courage bravery and love

after all, life is more mental than anything

once we can transcend the walls of our minds

than anything is possible…right?

and so you leap! –

a metaphor for faith diving thru the surface-

another metaphor,

for breaking through the shallowness to which you’ve existed

with will being your champion

and you reach and reach

but somehow

they seem as if they are falling faster than the dynamics of water would allow

faster than the horrible mechanics you’ve vaguely learned and held onto

ignorantly thinking you’d never need them

but you believe they are worth saving

so you can’t give up

too many have given up on you, you know the feeling

besides, they, wouldn’t give up on you right?

and still, you wouldn’t have done this anyway if you didn’t think there was a chance at success…would you?

maybe at some level, life becomes unbearable for most of us a

nd we entertain the thought,

the idea of death

but too cowardly to actually venture further than that selfish act of betrayal

always looking for a way out-

an easier path

but now here’s your excuse

a way for your life to finally mean something

Hero

or

Martyr, it seems

your options have never been so clear and honorable

you most definitely will be remembered in high regards

after all our humanity aches to be remembered

and so, in a sense, we will never die

that’s why history is so important

you can’t know where you’re going

if you don’t know where you’ve been

and who did it and how, first

the image of a frog comes to mind

and you do this wide bodied flail in the water

somehow picking up speed, and closing the distance

bridging the gap,

the gap that’s alluded you so much in life, love, and success

tormented by the days of past

that you just couldn’t seem to get passed

maybe you never will

but finding meaning has always held the gift of present

an escape from yesterday

as you near closer,

you see their eyes closed

noticing for the first time, that they just fell

without any fear resistance or panicked movement

almost resigned to their fate

or maybe …

no…

but

maybe it was planned

after all, you just saw the end of the fall

and made a split second judgement

just like life

decisions made without a full body of facts

framed by moments

though we chase history

we evade roots, cause, or reason…

and react to the symptoms

we just see the tail end of the fall

and dive in with our conclusions

you get close enough to grab them

you become mortally aware of one fact

you’ve never quite known how to hold your breath

I mean you got the concept

but being a surface dweller,

living your whole life without any depth

any discovery

afraid to dive in and explore the unknown

and the feeling of being in limbo with the very thing fueling life into your body every second

but you decided to live by avoidance

taking on the easy things that never made need of any risk

or a sacrifice plausible

you just never trained yourself how to die slow

because that’s what holding your breath is

and then the thought of the many levels and depths of dying slow

depending how deep you go…

I mean what’s the point in tempting fate?

safety was always the key to a meaningful life right

hurt does nothing but hurt better

to stay within your element

there’s trained scuba masters and the like whom decide to live on that edge

but this isn’t your expertise

and as you begin to suffer for air,

deep enough where the light of the surface is dimming

you grab them

with barely nothing left in you

facing them towards yourself

ready to rocket towards the surface

saving you both

then you notice something so chilling

that it stills you

and your fight for life alludes you

as you become face to face with them

because that person that was drowning

was you…

upon reflection…

this is how it feels when you give so much of yourself

that there’s no more air nor energy left for your swim back

resigned to your fate-

you close your eyes

and finally die outside like you had done your whole life so many times inside

I guess a hero or martyr

is part suicidal.