Written Pictures Of Life

Written Pictures Of Life

by Jeffrey M. Russo


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Written Pictures of Life provides vivid snapshots of author Jeffrey Russo's thoughts and feelings through his heartfelt poetry. This collection invites you into Russo's mind, while providing a glimpse at the ups and downs of everyday life from his unique perspective. He seeks to convey in vision and feeling what he thinks and believes through his poetry. From being in love to nature's pure beauty to fighting loneliness, Russo captures the emotion of everyday existence and chronicles the connections with the people we encounter on our colorful journeys through life.

The Concert in the Park

I watched the brilliant

orange sun fall below

a distant row of

trees as a throng

of people filled the

inner city park for

the concert here tonight.

A hint of moisture

touched my skin in

the warm summer breeze,

from the old marble

fountains stream of water

trickling gently behind me.

The band began to

sing to all their

fans, and the music

rang from the stage

as the crowd screamed

with sounds of applause.

A massive oak tree

stood tall upon the

center of the park

lawn, with a canopy

of thick green foliage

shadowing us all.

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781462053254
Publisher: iUniverse, Incorporated
Publication date: 09/22/2011
Pages: 108
Product dimensions: 6.00(w) x 9.00(h) x 0.22(d)

Read an Excerpt

Written Pictures of Life


iUniverse, Inc.

Copyright © 2011 Jeffrey M. Russo
All right reserved.

ISBN: 978-1-4620-5325-4

Chapter One

    My Muse

    You're the person
    who helped to
    change my life.

    You're the story
    that I hear
    in my mind.

    You're the vision
    that brought color
    to my eye.

    You're the inspiration
    that fully awoke
    my creative soul,

    so now I
    take pen in hand
    and begin
    to write once again.

    The Starlit Sky

    I lay down upon
    the cool summer lawn,
    clasping my hands
    behind my head, and
    look upward into the
    twinkling starlit night

    to watch a glimmering
    playground before me,
    and chuckle softly at
    the man on the moon,
    then pick out every
    constellation I see.

    Each planet seems to
    shine brighter than the
    one before as I hear
    the crickets call out
    from the trees and
    witness a shooting light
    flash across the starlit sky.


    I can already see
    within your crystal-blue eyes
    your children's lives,
    knowing them all
    instantly by how
    they look just like you.

    I sense a strength
    in you like no one else
    I've ever met,
    a joyful humor
    that makes even my hardest days
    slip away with your smile
    and gentle laugh.

    The Quiet City at Dawn

    I wandered about the sleeping city
    and watched as the slow morning sun
    rose over the quiet, vacant streets,
    not a person in sight,
    all the theaters and
    bars quite idle and dark.

    As I walked, I
    noticed a delicate
    little flower blooming
    from the earth,
    and a newspaper
    tumbled softly across
    the ground; the
    still-active traffic lights
    flashed between
    red and green,
    but there were
    no cars yet to be seen.

    The Rain's Song

    It's raining outside.
    As I listen to
    it fall from the
    shaded gray clouds,

    it creates a wonderfully
    rhythmic sound, when
    it taps down upon
    the street lights.

    It patters across
    the puddles on
    the road with
    its crisp clatter and clap.

    It lulls you
    to sleep,
    its gentle song,
    when taking an
    early afternoon nap.

    A Soft Good-Bye

    As I watch you
    slowly drive away,
    I begin to miss
    you already.

    How do I muddle
    through the months
    in your absence?

    How do I manage
    to make the
    time go by?

    As I watch your
    car disappear in
    the distance, tears
    spill from my eyes
    and I whisper out
    a soft good-bye.

    Candy-Colored Leaves

    one by one the leaves
    drop off their trees,
    to dance blithely about
    the clear blue sky.
    each candy-colored leaf
    tumbles down toward the earth,
    to dapple
    the dark-green lawn.

    A Most Likely Destination

    The railway warning bell
    clamored aloud
    as its lights flashed
    fluorescent red.

    Then a train came
    to a halt, on this
    dreary fall day
    and tiny yellow leaves
    floated down from the
    trees, gliding over
    the great steel cars.

    The people who stood
    waiting drew open
    their umbrellas as
    the cold rain blew in,
    then hurried aboard
    their ride for a
    most likely destination.

    The Little Pink Bootie

    A father held his newborn daughter close,
    trying to keep her warm
    during his long walk down the hall,
    never noticing
    her little pink bootie
    fall to the floor.

    A young girl stood closely behind him
    and saw what the father had not;
    reaching down quickly,
    she picked pick up the infant's little sock.

    When she offered him
    the little pink bootie in her palm,
    he smiled and thanked her.

    He thought for a moment
    what to do with the sock,
    reaching by reflex for his pocket,
    with only the tiniest pause,
    wryly amused,
    sliding the stocking over her little foot.

    Missing You

    I miss you
    when you're gone
    so much
    that I count the days,
    until I have the chance
    again to see you.

    I miss you
    when you're gone
    so much
    that when I
    hear your voice,
    my heart beats
    faster and my
    life becomes new.

    I miss you
    when you're gone
    so much
    that with your
    return, I know
    with time's passage
    a dream really
    does come true.

    A Perfectly Pink Glow

    The sunrise came early,
    a perfectly pink glow
    rising along the horizon,
    warming winter's gloomy sky.

    The long barren tree limbs
    seemed like
    a thousand tiny fingertips,
    stretching out
    to touch its beauty.

    The Snow-Covered Evergreen Trees

    The soft snow fell
    from a pewter sky,
    brushed by the breeze
    against a row of evergreens,
    painting each limb,
    riming the dense dark needles
    with a glimmering
    coat of frosty winter white.

    A Swaying Tree Branch

    A strong windstorm
    rattled the dismal sky,
    splitting apart an
    old tree branch
    that thrashed in the
    howling gale outside.

    It battered a
    quiet home with
    repetitive blows,
    sounding out with a
    thunderous clamor against
    the thin walls.

    The Frozen Raindrops

    The clear frozen
    raindrops clung to
    the underside of
    the trees' outstretched
    arms, like time
    had fallen suddenly still.

    Pure crystal
    droplets of ice
    glistened in the
    cold sunlight

    garnishing their limbs
    like blissfully hung
    pearls spread along
    each tree branch on
    this frigid morning
    of Christmas Eve.

    A Perfect Ring of Icicles

    The night sky was
    black as coal,
    no stars in sight,
    for all I could see
    was a heavy snowfall
    swirling by a
    glistening lampposts,
    solitary ray of light.

    The snow touched
    the warm surface of the gleaming bulb,
    then froze quickly in
    the cold snowy air,
    slowly forming with
    each rolling drop
    a perfect ring of
    icicles draped around
    the lamppost's light.


    I'm broken like
    an old toy, and
    I don't think I
    can ever be fixed

    I need your help,
    I need the sound
    of your voice,
    I need the joy
    of your laughter,
    so that I might
    be able to smile

    I've been hollowed out
    like an old tree,
    and I can't feel
    the thump of my
    beating heart.

    I need your help,
    I need your company
    to fill my day,
    I need your beauty
    to lift my soul,
    so that I might
    be able to live


    I sit alone
    at the hospital,
    in an empty
    waiting room whose
    walls have fallen
    too dark to
    see, and not
    even one person
    stands here willing
    to support me.

    I wait alone
    with fear filling
    the room, as
    my elderly father
    fights away death's
    reaching grasp
    upon a
    cold surgical table.

    My Quivering Hands

    My hands have
    begun to shake in
    the dawn, with a
    lonely, desperate fear.

    They tremble beneath
    my covers as I
    squeeze down tight
    to lessen their quiver.

    My worries slowly
    mount to quietly
    muffle my passion
    for life.

    I may soon break
    from this burdensome
    weight, as I hope
    to speak with someone.

    My friends are
    not here, for they
    are painfully unaware
    of my growing despair.

    The Cold May Storm

    A burst of thunder
    shook the sky, and
    a pelting cold rain
    fell from the clouds.

    The bitter chill air
    made it feel like
    a late November day,
    when it was actually
    the third of May.

    The wind was sharp
    and sliced across the
    trees, cutting through the
    small dead limbs and leaves.

    It lashed out against
    your body with a force
    to knock you back,
    and howled aloud like
    a caged wild animal.

    The storm has raged
    for two day now
    with no end in sight,
    as the wind whips
    and whistles about the
    city streets, wielding
    a cold driving rain.


Excerpted from Written Pictures of Life by JEFFREY M. RUSSO Copyright © 2011 by Jeffrey M. Russo. Excerpted by permission of iUniverse, Inc.. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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