RoseAnn V. Shawiak Poems

Blues playing soundly in my mind, their rhythms taking me
into sadness and sorrow, soaking me within, a latent
period of life that has an immense effect on me.
...

Circles and spheres are two different statistics of intellect
that roll around and encrypt patterns of thought processes in
reality and imagination.
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Strange sounds come beating rapidly from weird Al Yankovich,
tempting me to write quickly, mind smiling at his parodies
of other's songs.
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Always looking for new things to write about, often finding
them through rhythms of imagination and spirituality, find-
ing music taking me away.
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Being tempted by life and nature, continually seeing humanity
in many different lights, both good and evil, wondering what
makes these opposites of life take over in different people.
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Wandering down streets and back alleys, thoughts coming into
the light, floating upon the surface of intellect as I con-
tinue walking, not ready to write.
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At times losing my way, mind blank, feelings numb, existing
in a space of time that is floating about at will, keeping
me alive without any help.
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Rocking along to melodies running rapidly through my mind,
touching upon imagination, sparking it's embers into a
blaze of fire.
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Rushing through rhythm, tempos increasing in measures of
time, completing their existence in the writing of every
poem.
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Regrets have no room in our lives if we live according
to the Ten Commandments.

There will be no regrets when death grasps us with his
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