BLOG OF THE WEEK - AN UPDATE WITH PAUL ANDREW RUSSELL

This week, my friends, we are flying Across the Pond to England, to visit one of Poets United's earliest members, Paul Andrew Russell, who writes at his blog of the same name. Paul joined our site when Robert Lloyd first opened its doors in 2010, along with some of the rest of us. We are always happy when our early members pop up in the Linky, and recently Paul's happy smile caught our eye, so we thought we'd catch up with him. Pour a spot of tea, and draw your chairs in close. There will be a castle!

Sherry: Paul, our last update (which I can't believe was back in 2014),  explained your having spent some years in Canada and moving back home across the pond, to England. I imagine you are very happy to be back among your family. How is everyone doing? Any news? (Any grandkids? smiles)

Paul: Hi Sherry. It's been an eventful few years since I returned from Canada. I came back the same year my daughter got married, and then my son got married not long after. And I now have three lovely grandchildren in my life. My son has two boys and my daughter a little girl. Life is good.

Sherry: That accounts for your proud and happy smile. That little girl is radiant!  And I love the photo of you with your grandson. Grandparenthood looks very good on you, my friend. 

Do you still have a job where you travel a lot? And do you still have your sporty orange car? Smiles.

Paul: I do still have the orange car! I have a new job now, Sherry, working as an inspector for Rolls-Royce Aerospace, in the most advanced turbine blade casting facility in the world; exciting times. 

I sometimes miss the travel aspect of my previous occupation but it's nice to no longer be on the road, or in the air, for days on end; although I was lucky to have travelled as extensively as I did. I'm thankful for the opportunities the job afforded me. I loved meeting new people and experiencing different cultures.

Sherry: I am fascinated that as a child you played in and around Bolsover Castle. Let’s re-visit that for our  newer members. Would you like to tell us again about playing there as a boy? Have you been back there since you returned home to England?

Paul: I loved playing in the castle as a child, although I never realised how lucky I was to live in such a lovely place. Now the mines have closed, and the chemical refinery has long gone, the surrounding countryside has reverted back to what it once was.

I have indeed visited the castle a few times since my return. It is a lovely place to unwind, wander unhindered, and take photographs. I love the place. It will always be special to me.

  

Sherry: It is an amazing piece of history - a medieval fortress dating back to 1612.

When did you begin writing, Paul? I know you write both poetry and prose. Which is your favourite? And what do you love about poetry?

Paul: I remember having a poem put up on the classroom wall by one of my teachers when I was a child at school. That is my first memory of enjoying writing. However, I didn't do much writing when I was young. Coming from a working class, mining and industrial area wasn't particulary conducive to artful expression. So I basically kept my thoughts to myself until I was a lot older. I was probably in my thirties before I accepted the 'creative' aspect of my personality and began to embrace it.

I love the emotion I feel when reading and writing poetry. It will always be my first love. I find prose to be very hard work but I love writing poetry. The way it can just start with one word, one phrase, one idea; it still thrills me. I have nowhere near the same affection for prose. To me, and this is entirely subjective, prose is just a delivery system, a way to get information over. Whereas poetry is emotion made concrete, like tears, like laughter, like making love; emotion given form. Yes, poetry delivers emotion. Does that sound flaky? Ask a poet a question and you may well regret having done so.

  

Sherry: I love the idea of "emotion made concrete." Great description. Do you have a favourite poet?

Paul: William Wordsworth will always be my favourite for a variety of reasons. Daffodils was one of the first poems I ever read, and if I had to choose a lifelong favourite poem that would be the one.

source

Sherry: Are there three poems you would like to share with us? 

Solitude

He carefully selects
an apple,
one orange,
a small carton of milk,
places them in
his basket;
grabs a 'family size’ lasagne.
The 'meals for one’
yield little comfort
on lonely nights.

Sweet Release

give me freedom
give me peace
give me the joy of sweet release
from all bonds of reality
from all the things I clearly see
give me eternity to sleep
give me the liberty I seek
give me the love
give me the time
give me one day of full sunshine
far from the dark that seeks my soul
far from the deep and gaping hole
that wants to swallow all my joy
that scares the man who’s still a boy
give me freedom
give me peace
give me the joy of sweet release

Sherry: Beautifully done. Paul allowed me to choose a third poem, so I selected one that will tell you who this man is - he truly has a heart of gold. 

A Man

I don’t watch football
Or tinker with cars
I don’t play a sport
Or hang around in bars

I don’t fight or
Have anything to prove
And if I get in someone’s way
I’ll more often than not move

I know I’m not brash nor
Do I play to the crowd
And I don’t flash the cash
Or have to be loud

I do however
Treat people with respect
And truly believe that what you
Give is what you get

I like being ‘nice’ and
I try to be kind
And I believe in being positive
in action and in mind

Not your typical ‘man’
I have often been told
Definitely not macho and
Often not bold

But promises I keep
And confidences too
And to my friends
I’ll always be true

And if I love you
It will be forever
No matter the hardships
For worse and for better

I can cook
I can sew
I can look after myself
I’m secure in my masculinity
My experiences, a storehouse of wealth

Yes I’m quiet
And introverted at times
I feel no need to constantly reveal
Whatever’s on my mind

I have endured bad times
I have enjoyed good times
I have faced many fears
And on occasion been reduced to tears

If I truly love you
I will give my all
And when life tries to bend me
I will always stand tall

Yes, I’m a man
But I’ve nothing to prove
No need for swagger
No alpha status to lose

Look beneath the surface
See what’s inside
You’ll certainly get
One hell of a ride

And if you reject me
For a generic plaster cast mould
You’ll never discover that inside is cast
a heart of pure gold

Paul:  I like my 'alone time' but like many single people I would love to share my life with someone special again.

Sherry: Paul, any woman would be fortunate to be with you. 

You have three books out so far. Do you have any writing projects on the go these days? Any writing goals for 2018?

Pocketful of Words

available as a free ebook here

A Flash of Fiction

available here

More Than a Flash of Fiction

available here

Paul: I'm still trying to finish my novel/s but find myself getting nowhere at the moment. I have been writing poetry in private but it's very personal and I'm not quite ready to put it out there yet, if ever.

Sherry: When you aren’t writing or traveling, what do you like to do?

Paul: I still love reading, watching movies, spending time with my family and friends. Just the normal stuff of life that is really the extraordinary stuff we sometimes fail to appreciate. And of course I still like driving around in my 'mid-life crisis' boy racer. ;-)

Sherry: Thank you, Paul. Visits with you are always wonderful. We wish you all the best in the years ahead and hope you keep stopping by Poets United.

Isn't he lovely, my friends? Do come back and see who we talk to next. Who knows? It might be you!

LIFE OF A POET UPDATE - PAUL ANDREW RUSSELL

Kids, back in 2010, when Robert Lloyd first opened the doors of Poets United, Paul Andrew Russell was one of the first people to hop aboard. He has been away for a while, accomplishing a huge move back across the pond from Canada to his home turf in England, and how our hearts lifted when he resurfaced recently and began posting again in the Pantry. So I asked him if he'd like to give us an update on where his life has taken him since we last heard from him. Draw your chairs in close, as this is a man who, as a lad, played in castle ruins. I'll be sure to revisit that story!! And the photos he has provided are a visual treat for we armchair travelers.......Enjoy!

Sherry: Paul, I am so happy to be doing this interview, to get caught up with where your life has taken you.  After some years in Canada, you moved back home to England in 2012. Tell us about the joys of that move.

Paul at the Kaust Museum of Science 

and Technology in Islam

The Life of a Poet - Paul Andrew Russell

Okay, kids, bear with me. It's Sherry Blue Sky, and I am attempting to post my own interview for the first time. A leetle beet scary, but we'll muddle through!

When I found out that this poet played in castle ruins in England as a child, as well as on the slag heaps of the local collieries, I wanted to know more. So today we are sitting down with Paul Andrew Russell, one of Poets United’s steady contributors, and a long-term member.

Poem of the Week - Rituals 16/Nov/2010

Selected by Eileen T O'Neill

This Poem can be found at:

Paul Andrew Russell . com

Rituals

Stumble into the kitchen, bleary-eyed. Luckily
I filled the kettle before I went to bed last night;
it’s the little breaks that matter
first thing in the morning.
.
Flick the switch,
go to the bathroom,
put in eye drops,
stand with eyes closed,
swaying slightly;
balance isn’t what it used to be. Good
job it’s only for a minute
or else I’d be asleep again.
.
Bleary eyed once more,
shuffle back into the kitchen.
.
Two mugs from the cupboard,
one spoon of sugar and coffee
in the first, a teabag in the second. The ting
of metal on ceramic as spoon escapes my grasp.
.
Shuffle a couple of steps to the fridge,
door squeaks as it swings open,
grab milk, a splash in each mug. Door
squeaks as it closes again.
.
Kettle switches off.
.
Pour water over teabag,
leave second mug for later,
wait a minute
or thereabouts. Remove
teabag, burn fingertips again,
curse, drop it in garbage can.
.
A poor way for an Englishman to
make a cup of tea;
I’m a tea philistine at six-thirty
in the morning, no time for connoisseurs.
No one around to witness my beverage crime.
.
Walk into the living room,
sit on the couch, take a sip of
the elixir of (old man’s) life,
sigh, stare into space.
.
Try to reconcile the pain of morning
with the joy of not dying in my sleep;
Or is it the joy of morning and the pain
of not dying in my sleep?
.
Smile…..

~ Paul Andrew Russell

(This poem was selected by Eileen T O'Neill.  She is currently one of our contributors and poets found here at Poets United.  If you would like to learn more about Eileen or read some of her own poetry you can  visit her blog "Words and Thoughts".  Eileen is a poet and writer who has been a wonderful supporter of Poets United since its start.  We would like to thank her for all of her hard work.)