RoseAnn V. Shawiak Poems

Asking questions, wanting to place answers in poems so I may read and understand everything I can in life.
Constructing new venues to think among and steering myself into volumes of music.
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Backstage Crew, a live band at Buddy Stubbs, playing all the songs I love to hear.
A wonderful time for a musician like me to listen and write unending poetry.
Listening with every sense, tasting notes, feeling them in my soul, seeing them through colorful visions, touching them with my mind, bringing everything thoughtful to fruition.
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Being the same place it's been for the last seven years I've been coming here, yet it's different - no longer holding any purpose in my life now that friends have gone away.
Memories hurt and scar my mind with once close friendships now gone, having abandoned me to the wayside in tomorrow's exiled life.
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Collecting images through all
sorts of rock and roll music,
standing on ends of thought,
waiting for a poem to begin with them.
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An early morning breakfast of nature's breath, blowing everything,
making it move and sway in a silent rhythm.
An ocotillo reaching toward the sky, being stiffly blown to and
fro with a slight case of seeming arthritis.
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Listening to everyone talking, yet not hearing anything said, because I'm listening to rhythms of music playing to my soul.
All together, binding ties of yesterday's images to new ones being formed today.
Recalling moments in time as life proceeds from this day forward.
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Energetically portraying words in meanings, deepened by living them on a daily basis on a solo journey.
Traveling through time, sailing in my mind's oceans over many waves, carrying me into lapses in time.
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A single touch of beginning rhythm sets my mind on a tangent of writing.
Selecting words for each poem being organized as it flows over the edge of an interior waterfall.
Steadily careening down a steep mountainside, falling with every droplet of water, cascading down into depths of it's watery soul.
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Getting into the major rhythm of a band, taking me to plains of heaven musically.
Lifting spirits into the clouds, giving a great amount of pleasure as I write into it's depths.
Rocking to the songs crazily becoming the essence belonging to me.
Having a lovely time being here alive, again.
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Reciting many episodes of yesterday's poetical essence as I walk through the passage of time, equipping myself with a myriad of images to take me through daily life.
Answers being hidden all the time, yet I continue to reach into pockets of space, hoping to be surprised one day with an actual answer to life's mystery.
Knowing only that I can hope in it's happening, never truly knowing if it will occur while I'm alive.
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