RoseAnn V. Shawiak Poems

Pictures surrounding my mind, wanting to be expressed in poems right now.
Switching and altering themselves, jostling for the front of the line.
Pounding incessantly in the darkness, trying to be heard in picturesque volumes, sending all of it to my brain.
Writing totally in peaceful rhythms, calling each one in turn, living the visions that I see and write of here.
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Tapping into inner mysteries, being involved discretely with an aptitude of musical compositions.
Bringing me across the threshold of another life beyond myself, taking cautious steps, yet moving boldly forward.
Sensitive to a point of pain-filled thought, watching music flowing penetratingly into my mind - so intently - without a single qualm to ignore.
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Mastering language when just a child, staying attuned to it's dialect and proper grammar, choosing to inflect my own take on every word.
Making up some and giving them my own definitions as I write them down in many poems.
Getting a kick out of seeing people go to the dictionary and not being able to find the word they're looking for.
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Climbing canyon walls, searching for echoes, calling me from below.
Hiding beneath rock formations, quietly intense, giving me reasons to wonder and be curious about where they hide, why they repeat themselves and then are quietly attentive.
Never trying to give answers, just clues to what might have been, had you found them.
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Remembering Bound Brook, New Jersey, my very own Mayberry, R.F.D.
A small town bordered by brooks - a beautiful place to live and grow.
Living with my Grandmother, parents, Aunts and Uncles we had a happy time together.
Grandma was from Mierto, Sicily and spoke broken English.
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Reaching into depths of self, finding spacious rooms of loneliness and grief.
Touching my heart and soul with a flood of emotions, rolling over me in a momentous situation of life.
Tangled in webs of emptiness, I let go and fall into the abyss of a lonely life, away from the world and universe.
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Sending magical beats into the atmosphere, staccatoing through the air, giving everyone something to listen to attentively.
Registering innately in an inner creative atmosphere, giving insight to something invisible to the eye.
Yet, we can hear every note being played in rhythmic rhymes.
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Wanting to investigate all options coming to mind, writing down everything I can think of.
Solemnly, arriving at ends of belief, wondering where to go from here.
Awaiting the beats of each measure so I can continue writing to my heart's content.
Serenity filling me with elation and helping me cope with what's in store for me.
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Difficulties abound in life yet we continue to move forward,
making our ways toward the end of our days.
A total commitment of human nature inherent in each one of
us on earth.
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Softly touching a spirit of being, calling me from depths of heaven.
Justifying the proliferation of writing through all the smoke screens. Standing in the way of future visions, giving me difficult patterns of existence and tossing over designs of tomorrow.
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