RoseAnn V. Shawiak Poems

Conquering defeat with a peaceful interior attitude,
using a gift of writing to excel and become who I am
meant to be.
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Writing incessantly about life, trying to find reasons
why it exists as it does and why we put up with it's
unstable relationship with us.
There's never a reason good enough to explain it, so
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Taking everything in stride, what else is there to do?
Qualifying currents of being have been established
from the beginning of time.
Stranded in a life cause, enjoying every moment, using
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Squirreling away rhythms for lifetimes,
hoping to preserve some peace for tomorrow
and it's lonely days ahead.
Forgiving animosity of the past, going
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Snowbound within my interior mind, watching blizzards
of visions falling before my creative eyesight.
Selecting beautiful ones that fit descriptions of
imagination's desires, adjusting them into lengths
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Drinking in peaceful breaths of ageless desire,
knowing at the end of nightfall that all artistic
beauty will be hung in museums, looked upon, yet
never touched again by another's hand.
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Walls of fortune surround me, yet never do I get to
touch or hold onto any of it.
Poverty-stricken, ambling slowly down streets of
hunger and destitution, attempting to hold onto
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Insolence runs rampant at a neighbor's house, children
gather together just to taunt an elderly couple.
Disrespectfully shouting insults, vandalizing their
home and vehicles for absolutely no reason.
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Dynamic energy surging from within,
joining creatively with every
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A young child, a favorite nephew, sitting amidst grown-ups, grieving, yet celebrating his Uncle.
Filled with tears, so young to have to be sitting here listening to stories of people who held his Uncle dear.
Tales and stories he may never remember as he grows older, yet he will always know how much people everywhere loved his Uncle Scott.
Overflowing with tremendous emotional sorrow, how can one so young fathom this thing we call death?
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