RoseAnn V. Shawiak Poems

Pages, turning pages, filtering through sorrow of a lifetime,
so sure of death, all wishing spent with this desire.

Truthfully, never hoping or praying for another day on earth,
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Water cascading off of water fountain falls, soothes
and refreshes my soul with laughter, gentle and calming.
Days and years, filled with stress and hardship, melting
away in a placid space of poetry.
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Empty, vacant lots, standing barren, desolate, forgotten.
So much like the poor are portrayed in every day news and stories.
Yet, never does anyone look beneath poverty, it's joy at times, of very little things.
Staunchly sitting at the edge, looking over, knowing that at the end their situation in life is better than those with lots of money.
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Staring out the window, looking at reflections of double images staring back at me.
Watching leaves shaking slightly in the night time breeze.
Mindful of many joyful memories of Mom, tears fill my eyes because she is not home.
Pulling my heart like salt water taffy in all directions, emotions continue to tear me apart.
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Justifying interior possibilities, always recognizing
their abstract worthiness for future poems racing along
inside imagination.
Fully participating in a joy of petulant contrariness,
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Totally mangled by life's ingratitude, fluctuating on
whims of derisive folly.

Lacking fortitude, emptied of all dignity and self-
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The two separately are stone - they're cold - they have no meaning beyond what they are - a bench - a dog.
Yet, if you were to take that dog and put him on the bench, it would take on meaning for you.
(Well, you're even calling the dog a him now!)
In life's situations how many times have we had two directions to take and couldn't decide which way to go?
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Flowing upon the water, walking through sand dunes of my mind,
gentle breezes blowing, constantly shifting the sands, never allowing
it to be the same as it once had been.
Always throughout my life, shifting sands will create poetry and give
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Never at a loss for words when writing,
deeply complacent for hours at a time.
Wonderful imagination digging freely
into every nook and cranny of creativity,
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