RoseAnn V. Shawiak Poems

Constant reminders that life is difficult to live, because of all
the politicians taking advantage of American citizens by giving
our hard-earned money to illegals, muslims, refugees.
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Allowing music and it's rhythms to flow freely through mind and
intellect, giving a freedom that cannot be found elsewhere in
life.
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Writing, listening to music, hearing a child laughing and running
around the room, totally in the moment, enjoying his moments of
freedom away from his parents.
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Sitting across from a muslim woman while writing, wondering what
she's thinking of this American poet, what thoughts are going
through her mind as she watches me writing poetry.
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Traveling down lanes of rhythms, going full speed, touching upon
senses that recollect landscapes and images of latent thoughts
as they perpetrate ideas in catalogs of photographic memories.
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Recognizing rhythms from backstreets of melodies, enjoying
their steady beats as they tend to be gentle reminders of
what used to be.
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Dancing to peaceful melodies here in the present as life
continues to be fulfilled unendingly, strutting to rhythmic
beats of every measure.
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Swaying to music effervescently playing in streams of fascina-
tion and a realistic imagination, being supported by spiritual
dimensions that have no boundaries or limits.
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Gathering around, being tempted by rhythms, taking this body
into depths of wild and erotic feelings, passion growing, de-
sires delving deeply into this being.
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Crossing over into another dimension, living through it fully
and totally, riding waves of derision, taking them into sooth-
ing tables of tomorrow where they will be changed.
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