RoseAnn V. Shawiak Poems

Tapping out secret codes from an interior space of imagination, giving a message of faith, asking for
prayers, hoping things will get better, yet they
never do.
...

Shelving life, like my seven thousand books, not wanting to come close to them, not wanting to feel the anxiety of death looming near.
Yet, wanting to succumb to it's devastating grasp.
Sliding further into haunted messages of yesterday, knowing they will fill me with their distraught thoughts and leave me wallowing in a quandary of emptiness.
Sorrow pushing me further into pits of hell where I will no longer be able to get out.
...

Aligning thoughts, spreading them around and aggravating them with an anxiety wrought from not having all memories intact.
Climbing aboard a razor sharp idea, taking it's element and behavior into consideration.
Acknowledging it's presence, now stationary in my life.
Watching it permeate and slowly take over little by little.
...

Circle shadows lying on gray carpets, nothing
attached to them, just their darkened beings
staring into the atmosphere.
...

Ratcheting up volumes of inner rhythms, letting them take
me onto highways of imagination.

Fulfilling many desires as I walk downstream, absorbing
...

Necessary methods of creativeness are always within
intellect, processing and analyzing formulas.

Mathematically being produced within a certain know-
...

Intriguing and comfortable beats of rhythms now fitting
nicely within this being.

Satisfied intently with emotions that are being created
...

Somber, silent, teary-eyed, looking through heart's of
loss.

Searching for happiness that we can be a part of each
...