Do not forget to seek joy
For often,
Its presence is a mystery,
Amidst the fear and pain.

Its laughter forgotten,
An echo,
A memory faded to dream
Amongst the shadows.

So, remember the long thread
Leading back from here to there.
Trace it tenderly
Step gently through the ash.

With eyes closed and lean in listen
Find the whisper that leads you there,
With heartstring murmur, and a fine tuned hum
Let the melody move you ever on.

The song of lifted spirits
The air vibrates with electric pulse
And fear takes a leave of absence
From your furrowed brow, and breathe here

In this peace of knowing
You once knew a friend named joy
That lent ease to your rapid heartbeat,
And melancholy, and reach

Past the shadow, Past the heavy
Reach further still until
You feel the return
Of sun on your face and smiles that ache.

Do not forget to seek joy.
Past the pain, Remember
You can find your way there
Once more.

Angel Marie Russell


Mr. Chump

Dear Mr. Chump,

There’s a long long fall
From how high you’ve
Placed yourself;
Up there on the shelf
Of fragility.
But with such a view
You’ve mistook your size
As mighty.

And lo, what a stare
Down the tip of your nose.
What a fallacy,
What malcontent,
Within your tiny heart…
The bravado and breadth
Of your ego
Reaches with white knuckled
Fists, smashing
Far and wide,
Those that dare to snicker.

Oh, but what a fall.
What a far way to go
When surely,
The nation will all agree.
That the emperor
Wears no clothes.

-Angel Marie Russell


My heart is weary
From aching,
Tired beyond words
From all the times
It felt the break
Of hope dashed
Onto the floor.

It seeks respite,
And quiet;
A bit of peace
Before it feels
So much and everything
All again.

It burns from
Quickened pulse
From memories
Raw and present,
Liquid heat,

It slows ever more
Before a frantic
Lest it weaken
Dangerously close
To stillness
Upon the breeze of
Last breath.

And it remembers
Life, love, and tenderness.
It sings rabid
For yet one more turn
At the wheel
Of fate,
Of love,
And it raises hope
From the ashes
Once again.

Be still my heart
and remember
The moments
Worth fighting for.
Be restful in the space
Made for your
Quickened pace
Within my rib cage.
And remember hope
Like a seed
Is buried
To grow fervently
Towards the light
And fight
For this life
That is yours
After resting,
Once again.

-Angel Marie Russell

#poetry photo cred unknown


Poem I wrote today:


We are so very different
Struggling so deeply to be the same
Not seeing the beauty
In the flux of this life

The variance is what gives us
The many trees
A forest makes.

The sparkled sand
Each a different shade
A tiny glass parade.

The stars grandiose
Expansive blots on endless night
Both brilliant and faint
Oh the beauty
Varity makes.

Why do we try so hard
To be exactly the same?
Why do we ache to tell a tale
For the difference it makes?

Why must we hide our truths
For the comfort of others;
For sameness’ sake?

Why must we dim our shine
Quiet our heart,
Why must we lower our voices
When passion strikes?

Why must we tip toe around truth,
Lest the façade break
And we see truly
There is beauty in the variance
Our lives make?

Speak your truth boldly.
Stand firm in your priceless self.
And above all and always,
To be you,
Be proud.

-Angel Marie Russell

Remember Love

You have got to remember you
In all things,
Where you end
And begin.
Where your roots descend to
And where your wings
High above can rise.

Where is your equinox?
Where is your compass
Where is your foot step

What lulls you to peace,
And what pulls you to stand alert,
ready to impart a quick wit,
A furrowed brow, or the
Swift depart.

Where is your center
In the storm that rages
About you?
Where is your pillar within
On which all of you
So nobly stands?

What calls you to honor?
What whispers misdead?
What voice do you run from?
What voice do you heed?

Where is your center
In all this storm of life?
Where is your placid
Glassy lake?
What imparts you to find the calm
In a world gone mad?

I have found a tether
Rooted cavernous deep,
That in all things
It guides me,
It lifts me on wings,
It shows me the right answer,
When in pain, it’s voice I need.

It is my compass,
My nightingale,
My morning dove,
It is,

And this is the center
Truly of all
And of you.
It is the electric pulse in static,
Lighting, and all that binds us,
Even me, to you.


The liquid shimmer beneath
All joyous eyes;


The rest after deep breath
And the warm embrace;


The quickened pace of joy,
And the scurry towards what excites;

There is love.

It binds us,
Enthralls us,
It lulls us to lullaby sleep.
It fills us up within, without and

The electric pulse,
That jolt of heart beat rush.
That hum of all voices,
That rise up
Instead of hush.
It is my compass.
My purpose.
My direction true.
It is what binds the world.
What keeps me rooted.
And always and ever
And true.

-Angel Marie Russell

The Linger

Never forget,
There is a center
To every storm.

There is a hollow
To every forboden want.
There is a void
To every encompass.

There is a want
To every lack
And an empty
To every full.

There is never light
Without shadow.
There is never joy
Without sorrow.

This phenomenon,

Both Up
And down.
And the tempered air
Between the two.

The awe,
The wonder,
The gasp,
Breath held,
The pause
Before the leap.

The linger lives
In the center
Of every storm.

And both exist
Within you.

-Angel Marie Russell

The Schism

Asking one to feel
All that aches
Is asking to split
A schism
Molten wide.

The depth with which
We all can feel threatens
Like the void
That whispers,
You are mine,
It is merely a matter of time.

And oh,
How do our hearts quake
With fear at this space,
That threatens to engulf us

And we quiver alive
With electric energy,
That begs our hearts to beat
Our lungs to breathe,
And our legs to run
Far and Fast
Away from that which threatens.

And we jump into bottles,
Into waton embrace.
We jump into too fast cars,
And relationships destined
To break,
Just like our hearts,
That always feel
Just. Too. Much.

And they say
In order to heal,
We must feel.
They say,
We must rip the schism wide,
And jump in despite
The burning,
The flame,
And the ash.

Who could blame
That we avoid
All that feeling.
Who would dare
Take such a leap?
Who would so callous face
Such an undoing,
As to feel
So very much.

In order to leap
We must know we are held
In the fall.
We must know someone will catch us
Should we dare to leap,
To birth from the crack, anew.

So, I say,
We must learn how to hold
Each other
When the cavern
Threatens us to leap.
We must rise to flight
And catch our loved ones,
Before they so nobly
Dare to release.

When they feel too much,
When the pressure steams,
And the tears begin to fall,
We see them crashing down,
Under all that weight,
We must hold them,
So they don’t fall alone,
So they know they can rest in our
Winged embrace.

And so that they know
We are all in this together,
There isn’t a need to run.
There is no cave of emotion
So deep, lonely and isolating,
That they may never be found,
In all that feeling abyss.

If we might be brave enough,
We might find
That they through feeling,
And we holding gentle space,
The schism no longer rages,
And healing begins
Where the rift threatened,
To burn it all away.

-Angel Marie Russell