Featured Poet: Wayne Russell
Good morning! Today’s feature is Wayne Russell, another poet I’m fairly new to but have been incredibly impressed by his writing and talent. Like yesterday’s, he will have work within Rebirth, he also has two books out with the link to his page at the bottom. I highly encourage you to check out his work, Waves of Lucidity is next on my list of books to read.
On the East Side of Town
The world falls down around me,
yellow orange leaves, with their
slow dive twirl upon the earth,
the people next door show off
their new leaf blower, "tidy yards
are happy yards!" the Carolina
Wren cheeps. I take another
slug of beer, this will erase the
emptiness that I feel inside, for
awhile anyways. The leaf blower
in too noisy, I cannot think in which
to write this terrible poem, melancholia
has my brain in a vice like grip, the leaf
blower stops, another one starts off
to the east side of town.
The Angels Sigh
Reflect on that of what was your life
memories of romance, tumble like
waves, the sting of salt, a childhood,
the piano crescendo, a fox in the woods,
a thistle touched upon the skin, an ink
pin spawning blossoms of words, ride
upon the galaxies as the crickets are
lost within their dew drop symphonies
The Approach
The winter will be here soon
after this enchantment, this
copious splendor of Fall
the twirling leaves will fade
in their multitude of colors
back into the ravenous jaws
of famished earth, the park
bench will be lonely for the
eternity of wisdom from us.
Remember when we sat there?
We spoke of so many things,
our hopes, our dreams spilled
out for the multitude of people
oblivious and wandering by, their
ears, lazy sponges absorbing
bits of conversations that they
could care less about, and now
our ghost too, now clueless in
memories strewn beneath the
failing trees, leaving in their wake
our echoing voices, quivering for
all eternity, our footsteps leave
their marks, as they echo in their
chambers of seasonal photographs.
The Longest Mile
This is the longest mile,
where the dust swirls
and the sun never shines,
a world of toil and disparity.
This is no man's land, where
heads are hung so low, and
toil never ends, the grease
and oil and soot, intermingling
with blood sweat and tears,
a place where dreams were
shattered years ago, survival
is their only reality now
this day will never end, upon
the longest mile, where the
factories own you, where you
have been bought and sold
into a world of drudgery from
paycheck to paycheck, and
you exist for an eternity,
tools in hand, ready for
your calling
upon the battlefield of your
one life, in black and white,
it's time now to go.
Daydreaming
I drove through Harper's Ferry,
West Virginia one day in a dream,
there was an instant connection,
that since of forlorn beauty, that
since of abandonment, I pulled
my car over on the side of the
road, I breathed deeply and admired
the autumn colors dotting the hilly
landscape. I walked to the 19th century
shops sparsely freckling the roadside,
there was not a soul to be found,
inside or outside, no cars parked
nor passing through. I cried out for
anyone, but my cries went unanswered.
A ghost whispered, "Where the Potomac
and Shenandoah rivers meet, is known
as The Point, they separate Maryland and
Virginia." I noticed The Appalachian Trail
visitors center, then in a split instant, I
decided to fall off the grid, into the wild,
becoming what I was always meant to be.
Bio
Wayne Russell is a creative jack of all trades, master of none. Poet, singer, artist, rhythm guitarist, photographer, and author of the poetry books “Splinter of the Moon” and "Waves of Lucidity", both published via Silver Bow Publishing, they are both available for purchase on Amazon in paperback and digital formats such as Ingram Distribution at your local library.
You can find his author page, where you can buy both his books, here https://www.silverbowpublishing.com/wayne-russell.html?fbclid=IwY2xjawHHEyJleHRuA2FlbQIxMAABHaeKGa2TBTIMN3hyN5YqxQU2_mPAAwwfbaH0U4qcs0lR7yc-90Xnz4n6OQ_aem_4UMnzKd0VXm-WbOVaqfgmQ
