RoseAnn V. Shawiak Poems

Thrilling and fantastic melodies coming out of the
atmosphere, telling songs of love and how it takes
one into a pleasant space of time.
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Sirens blaring throughout rhythms as a band plays, Alice
Cooper touching upon childhood and maturity, wanting things
that are out of reach for now.
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Rat-a-tat-tat, drums pounding steady beats, keeping track of
time as life proceeds down sidelines of destiny, living in
the realms of poverty and hardship.
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Enlightening people poetically in a twilight stage at the ending of life, leaving nothing to the imagination as it trudges forward alone, nothing being left within.

Except possibly tears of yesterday as they fight back the sanctity of what humanity is meaning and holding onto in the reality of what may be coming one day.
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Every piece of music being slowed down, but it needs to be sped up and taken to another level of height.

Rocking back and forth, dancing to melodies that keedp talking to senses.
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Throttle being pulled and pushed, rushing this cycle of imagination into the sky above, heralding the morning of a brand new day.

One that holds onto an imaginational reality instead of the real world, reaching for temperate sides of an interior life of spirituality as ghost riders keep moving forward into the darkness of yesterday once more.
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Walking along the tracks as the train races past, not slowing down for speed was the only love he could understand.

Believing in sincere words of a loving heart that suddenly had disappeared in the very jungles of a poetical mind.
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Watching people as they sing and or dance, their patterns and designs all being their own individual selves, all being geometric forms of humanity.

Ones that can never be truly cloned for something will always be left out, there's nothing at all perfect about a human being on this earth.
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Reaping rewards of this musician in poetry, finding self being elevated and taken from closets of darkness and being seen in misty walkways of another time.

Rising into heights of life as they're being etched in annals of a lively song, melodies representing the essence of what is going on in the midst of a circular measure of positive moods.
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Musical rhythms now shaking bars of an interior prison, trying to escape, yet it just doesn't seem to be possible for mind and heart.

They seem to be captivated by colors of sound as they become sensitized and left to fend for themselves, just recognizing beginnings of yesterday.
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