Questions of the Heart
From the first date,
I knew that there
was something about
her, something that I
just couldn't explain.
Was it her radiant smile?
Or the way that the breeze
slid through her light brown
hair?
Was it her large blue eyes,
tugging at my heartstrings?
Was it her intellect, or her
gentle spirit, calming my
restless soul?
A soothing voice, telling
me that;
everything was going to
be alright
and that it was
safe to fall in love once
again?
This One Life
I lost my mind in the
ghettos of my youth,
and the blisters worn
upon my flesh and soul.
I lost my mind in the
dreams of art college
and in the gravity of
Army / Navy service.
I lost my mind in the
pubs of Scotland
and upon the beaches
of Spain.
I lost my soul, reclaiming
what was mine, chasing
love, and dodging the
shrapnel of life.
I lost my mind in life and
found it again in rehab.
I lost love and found it again.
Before the age of 25, I
had risked it all, and done
it all.
I had lived my life, doing
more than most do, in a
few lifetimes.
I have lived, and confessed,
and cried; and fought, as
most of us do; in this one life.
After The Snow Fell
Snow stops finally,
and there you are,
at least in memory;
and photographs.
Have the nightmares
ceased?
Have the heavens reached
out and blessed you?
Sometimes I dream,
and there you stand,
so elegantly, in heaven;
a tortured soul, no more.
This is a poem for you,
adoption mom, not flesh
of my flesh, nor blood
of mine.
And yet, once upon a time,
you dreamed of a child
while you were only one
yourself; 18.
A child to fill the void of
your own despair, and
emptiness, that the universe
reined down upon you.
Was this too a despair, that
would be paid forward,
unwillingly?
I think too; that you didn't
mean to scar, or mutilate the
next generation.
Did you?
Did you?
Did you?
Nostalgia
Longing for the days
when love of life was
so new.
And I was the fool,
so taken by you.
Life, I was so lost in
nostalgia, old days;
and to all those now
gone, here I stand,
relieved; yet alone.
Remember that ol'
dog of youth?
An inkling of a riddle,
lost within doubt, yet;
a translucent metaphor.
Photos strewn across
dusty shelves and walls,
fading memories
surrendering;
with the incoming
tide of age.
This used to be a place
of safety, where nothing
could stop me, nor these
gem-like eyes that burned.
And yet; I awoke from
lucid dreaming,
wrapped in faded cocoon,
only nostalgic for youth;
and the what could have
been; nothing more.
Always
I have always embraced the thought
of loving you, always it is; and shall be.
Against the grain of harsh sea
and treacherous time, we stand.
Never thought it could be this way,
wilder than the raging ocean.
With you, trust has been reborn, through
tumultuous night; fears of rejection
dissipate; through the golden sunbeams
of morning, I have been renewed.
Thanks to you my love, thanks to you,
merci, mon amour.
L. Wayne Russell is or has been many things during his
lifetime, he has been a creative writer, world traveller, graphic designer,
former soldier, and former sailor, amateur photographer, aspiring guitarist,
singer, and creative writer. Wayne has been widely
published in both online and hard copy creative writing magazines. From 2016-17
he founded and edited the now-defunct online creative writing
magazine, Degenerate Literature.
In late 2018, Wayne was nominated for his first Pushcart Prize, in addition, in 2019, he was nominated for Best of the Net. In 2020, Wayne had his debut paperback book of poetry published by Guerrilla Genesis Press; Where Angels Fear is currently still available for purchase on Amazon.
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