Poetry Break: 3 Poems by Wayne Russell

By: Wayne Russell 

 

Poetry Break: 3 Poems by Wayne Russell covid 19 marilyn l davis two drops of ink

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Looking for Inspiration While on Lockdown in a Tiny Apartment  


I usually wouldn’t say something like,
Good thing I’m getting up there in years;
but now, that’s exactly my train of thought.

Even while sitting in this tiny apartment,
cowering from a global pandemic, C19,
I have lived enough and been enough
places; never to be bored.

My mind can always sprout wings and revisit
the sun-kissed beaches of St. Thomas in The
Virgin Islands. 

My mind can always take me back into the
loving arms of my first love, still I think of
her; even after twenty-six years away.

I could always close my eyes and go back
to my roots in Scotland, the cobbles of 
Glasgow, the castle in Edinburgh, small
town of Dunoon.

If boredom should ever rear its ugly head,
I could always revisit the ends of the earth,
New Zealand, where my children were born
and played.

The flowing jade palace of my thirteen year
exile, New Zealand, land of the long white
cloud, 
where I gave love one last chance; 
loosing out once again.

I usually wouldn’t say something like,
Good thing I’m getting up there in years;
but now, that’s exactly my train of thought, 
as sleep calls out to me and midnight tolls,
and the lights are once again doused.   

 

 

This Has to be a Dream

 

The lanes are quiet now, people
are ghost that gently stare solemnly 
out windows, dreaming of yesterday.

Automobiles are filthy cocoons, devoid
of life, parked in between lines that
fade along with the dreams of all.

Everything’s shuttered while cobwebs
surface upon business doors, windows
are streaked and smeared with dust.

My guitar is cradled in its stand, it feels
this isolation that the multitudes feel, it
feels the burning loneliness of our hearts.

 

 

Catalyst

 

As I turn the corner, leaving the
past behind, like ghost held down
by anchors,

my arm almost topples the lamp,
held out like a torch in darkest
dreams, of eternal dishevelment.

Reflections melting in a mirror, old
and worn, they no longer register,
they evaporate into the walls of my
surroundings.

All the hurts and pains of life, now
cast the ashes back in their eyes,
they have been blinded, the door
is opened,

I walk through into freedoms light,
a catalyst. 

 

Bio: Wayne Russell 

poetry by Wayne RussellWayne  is or has been many things in his time upon this planet, he has been a creative writer, world traveler, graphic designer, former soldier, and former sailor.

He has been widely published in both online and hard copy creative writing magazines.

From 2016-17 he also founded and edited Degenerate Literature. In late 2018, the editors at Ariel Chart nominated Wayne for his first Pushcart Prize for the poem Stranger in a Strange Town.

“Where Angels Fear” is his debut poetry book published by Guerrilla Genesis Press.

Stay up to date on Wayne, his writing, and poetry on Facebook.

More writing by Wayne Russell on Two Drops of Ink

 

 

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Poetry Break: 3 Poems by Wayne Russell covid19 marilyn l davis two drops of ink

 

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