RoseAnn V. Shawiak Poems

Life takes us by the hand as we stroll towards our ends,
always expecting it to turn out differently in our minds
than it does.
Holding lives together, love is held like a keepsake
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Rooms filled with strangers, listening to musical fortes,
dancing in time to rhythmical notes.
Traipsing over floors set up for freedom of spirit and
soul.
...

Screens of pictures playing silently alone with
themselves as conversations prattle and roam
around the room.
Scopes of dream-like quality escape sounds, as
...

Spinning words, filling in definitions
of spontaneous combustion, as ideas pop
up and slash their ways through dense
atmospheres of meaningful desires.
...

Lights exercising their
minds with blinking precision.
Tapping out rhythms into a
desert of creativity.
...

Out for a night of gentle entertainment, music, friendship,
a little gaiety.
Sitting in a chair instead, watching a basketball game on
a television across the room
...

Rattling cobwebs, causing them to rip and tear
themselves down.
Keenly swerving, tuning in to visions hidden
far too long is dusty, dark corners of my mind.
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Climbing walls of perfection, stealing towards the apex
of an interior world of possibilities.
Cuddling together in a myriad of memories, awaiting times
of recognition.
...

Penetrating sadness turns tears into oceans of
tomorrow's grief.
Remorse falls like waves upon sandy shores,
holding moments together in fragile hands of
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Thinking ideas while seeing horizons beyond eyes of
penetration, enveloping each iota of cognitive
mosaics in turn.
...