RoseAnn V. Shawiak Poems

Stepping into an array of visions, searching each one as it fills me with unexplainable thoughts.
Time revolves and all blends cognitively, introducing my mind to all manner of abstractions vying for attention.
Wanting to be heard and thought of, being placed in a myriad of poems, displayed in moments of fame as they are read in leisurely pursuits of learning.
...

Trees, gnarled trunks and branches, standing tall in times of inclement weather.
Serving their purpose on earth, giving us shade in summer, dropping their leaves in fall, lying dormant in winter and coming to life again in spring.
All around, being taken care of by mother nature, as she nurtures everything for God.
...

Scattering pieces of my heart in all directions, not wanting to feel emotions tearing at me from within.
Lessening the intensity, pieces can't hurt as much as when they are together, forming my heart and it's tragedies inside it's quiet mind.
...

Rectangular thoughts catching at my brain,
making me stop and find ways to escape
from the box of rigid living.
Oftentimes, pushing the limitations into
...

Touching corners of my mind, spreading memories apart, looking at their consistency and beauty set in tears, spilling into hearts filled with hurt feelings.
Being sentenced to lifetimes of sorrow, setting reminders to display the coffins of unexplored denizens, giving up the strength of life.
...

Cold, gray skies touching my mind, reminding me of New Jersey when I was young.
Recollecting images, knowing that rainy days made me happy because I was glad to see the clouds chasing each other across the sky, etching their memories in my mind forever.
A lasting impression to keep, seeing what is a joyful tribute to times in New Jersey when I was so much younger.
...

Singular purposes falling on deaf ears,
unfulfilled dreams stretching themselves,
attempting to fill in empty spaces with
no particular luck in doing so.
...

Listening to rhythms, following them closely, being attuned to each of their tones as I write in a world of imaginative beauty.
All of it my own as I create the environment in my mind that I want to be seeing.
...

Taking my heart, stomping it into the concrete,
never feeling the impact because I'm no longer
existing in your reality, having one of my own
to play with.
...

Stressing the physical in songs
of sexual desires, young people
live in the moment, not thinking
of what will become of them in
...