RoseAnn V. Shawiak Poems

Strumming my mind like an acoustic guitar, hitting perfect pitches as I free fall from heights beyond earth's atmosphere.
Holding onto the experiences, recalling them when needed inside a poem.
Coasting like snow down the mountains, being pure and undefiled.
Feeling the scents of musical scores as they waft my way in melodies.
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Designs of flight pantomime what I'm thinking, helping me to soar to unknown heights.
Delving into clouds, filled with delta brain waves, exploring it's denizens through poetical episodes of music.
Alleviating any possibilities of existence turning it's back upon what reality has been refiguring.
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Straightening crooked thoughts in deepening attitudes of life's behavior.
Wondering through the years, as I think of all the discoveries I've made in loving you.
Holding together the essential particles of heart-felt beauty we've found in each other through all these years together.
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An oldies song, Johnny Angel, being sung, totally causing elliptical joy.
A rhythm I remember when I was a girl scout and had a crush on our assistant scout leader, John.
What a crush it was, at such a young age.
A beautiful memory, remembered with a smile in my eyes.
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Sharing feelings with another,
trusting them with your gentle soul,
while hoping to never be separated on
life's journey together.
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Talking, moving, carrying on in a peripheral vision
as music takes me beyond what my eyes can see and
mind can grasp.
Catching sight of mountains in the distance,
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Silencing voices, trying to raise a ruckus in my mind with doubts of others.
Sentencing them to corners of my mind, not wanting to listen to them anymore as I move forward,
not touching their empty words with my mind.
Leaving behind every nuance and undigestible tidbit of lasting emptiness.
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Receding feelings, ebbing and rising at times.
Taking the waves as they come, relaxing,
floating with the changing tides of life,
because there's not much else one can do under
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Not wanting to know another, feeling cold and empty inside, left to my own devices as I mature in an aged environment of sorrow.
Carefully touching my face, feeling the tears holding on for dear life, afraid to let go, lest they fall, disappearing forever, leaving me in an empty, arid shell.
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Stringently taking hold of every response my heart feels as they close in and grip me fearfully in tears,
afraid I'll disappear in the darkness of other's desires that they try to hold me with.
Longing only to fight and keep limits and boundaries away from my mind,
I resist every effort of other people to put me under their control.
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