RoseAnn V. Shawiak Poems

Blanketing everything in so many beautiful justifications
of living in a freedom of joyful anticipation, coming into
junctions of eternal beauty.
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Noticing every little sound and image as a baseball
game participates without me.
Hearing bats crack as players hit balls, crowds
screaming into thin, cooled air without a trace of
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Selecting tones from amongst rhythms being played intensely
inside this mind, creating ideas to help mankind in the long
run, hoping to manufacture many wonderful things hiding from
within.
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Wandering pathways of shyness, wondering how it came about
and lasted this far into adulthood.

Always having wanted to be out going and the life of the
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Inner tangents being smoothed like glass with water flowing
constantly over them.

Portraying intrepid sights of noncommittal, while holding
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Riding waves of ocean rhythms, beckoning all manner of euphemisms, while burying thought in energetic blocks
of space and time.
Entering all phases of beauty and resigning self to
outer thoughts as they arrange themselves in rows of picturesque landscapes, being ridden on horseback
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Sitting in blue jeans, legs crossed Indian style, like when younger.
Trying to be encased in thoughts of yesterday's childhood.
Accurate things are closely monitored in spheres of accountability, rolling around in crypts of deadened lives, nothing going on before me.
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Faulty thinking resurrecting a notion of healthy
prejudice in our lives.

So deep and hurtful it stands as a stepping stone
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Talented mosaics of intelligence centering on tabloids of
entertainment and entering musical scores of perfection.
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