RoseAnn V. Shawiak Poems

Reaching fingers around the neck of a guitar, playing
the essence of my soul to rhythms felt interiorly.
Capturing the essence of nature and my mind, collecting
all the pieces needed to compose each sheet of music
...

Placing myself in an abstract painting, walking around
it's depths, delving into it's morose darkened colors.
Feeling an invisible being, roaming around, watching
me as I gather insight from the strokes tempting a
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Waiting patiently, a long way from home, steeping
inside a maze of contentment, listening for a way
out into a beautiful aura of nature.
Hoping to be taken gently into a cocoon, wanting
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Feelings encompassing my being, bringing into a
contemporary compartment, an apprehension of
freezing to death in centers of the universe.
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Recollecting times as I traipse through memory's
hallways, watching as I walk further into the
past.
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Bursting into my mind, a huge expanse of color and
texture, seeping into corners of my brain, expanding
it's limits without contorting the images I'me seeing.
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Into life's final dream, watching past memories slowly
go by - not in sequence - but beautiful just the same.
Good times shared with those we love, holding these
thoughts in our hearts to take with our souls on
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Located here inside this mind lies all the loneliness
and emptiness that imagination can bring.
From this deep well of emotion and grief come poems
of varied styles, each standing on it's own merit.
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Tarot cards unfolding from an inner grasp, being read
by interior whisperings on midnight couches.
Finding visions of the future held in check today,
waiting for their turns to be exposed to the world.
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Lying in wait for explanations to be brought about.

Thinking on all realms of thought, looking for
absolute decisions.
...