Selected Poetry by Russell Hemmell

January 17, 2020

 

 Photo Source: PxHere

 

Lunar Fog

 

 

What hides in the mist,

inside places you don’t look,

at night,

when all the sounds are muffled

and birds are menacing dark silhouettes

against a flexing crescent?

 

It’s called fear

and comes chugging and rumbling and screeching on the brakes

like a train at full speed

over a ramshackle bridge.

 

 

 

 

 

Haiku of the Volcano

 

 

Like steel to fire

gliding as proud ladybugs

from a dying world

 

 

 

 

 

In the Darkness of Flowers and Frames

 

 

Frames, zooming, and snapshots,

an avalanche of colours

against a black tapestry.

Choosing photography over acting meant eluding

the ordeal of human interaction

but not its dangers.

She cocks her head,

staring at the model.

“Shine, girl. Smile for the camera.”

A love undeclared is like a fallen butterfly on a carpet of flowers.

Click, click.

 

 

 

 

 

Before I can say No

 

 

I switch roles in the day

the way people shuffle cards

mindlessly

you fight angry entities at night.

 

Life is just a dream

except when it is not

 -rock solid as a bleak reality always is.

Today’s ghosts are

armed and famished

washed-out faces

history has forgotten.

 

In a world

bleached in indifference and painted with guilt

we met one evening

in a no man’s land called revenge.

 

You held my hand

walking me out of the graveyard

and I left behind barbed wire, blood, and shrapnel shells

rotten flowers and

abandoned trenches

the names of the victims

all the times I told you 'I can’t'

only taking along

sea-salted tears and a fading scar on my face.

 

 

 

Russell Hemmell is a French-Italian transplant in Scotland, passionate about astrophysics, history, and speculative fiction. Recent poetry in Argot Magazine, The Grievous Angel,  Songs of Erez, Star*Line, and others. Find them online at their blog earthianhivemind.net and on Twitter @SPBianchini.

 

 

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