RoseAnn V. Shawiak Poems

Thoroughly enticing my mind with tempting mysteries of
musical magic, using intellect to gather translations
of a poetical essence within me.
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Life filling me completely, going on journeys of experience
with soothing pleasure and immediate joy, tasting and feel-
ing the essence of poetry every moment that I hear melodies
filtrating intellect.
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Reluctantly moving into the future at times, not knowing
what lies ahead, wanting to sever time from life so I can
move about eternally.
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Vibrations of actuality taking me through photographic
screens, going over every aspect of my life interiorly,
watching and listening intently.
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Listening to sounds of isoteric altitude, watching the
silence of existence inhale and exhale life to an in-
finite degree.
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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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