RoseAnn V. Shawiak Poems

Filling empty thoughts with photographic memories set in picturesque landscapes and placed in volumes of thoughtful prose.
Intelligent beings provoking words and meanings into displays of beautiful artistic talent.
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Silently recognizing intense feelings scrounging around, looking for destinations to become in - momentarily.
Sensing outcomes of vocational progress as mind-bending attitudes flip and move upside down, delaying the inevitable abyss of integrity.
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Cordoning off people's opinions, not letting them affect my imagination.
Giving many explanations, focusing on intensive thoughts, becoming part and parcel of thinking industriously over ends of life-giving beauty.
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Sensational aspects of life are photographed indelibly into my mind, fitting attributes to intelligence and artistic pictures of natural omens.
Signs of difficult times of yesterday are not ever forgotten as they're placed in shallow graves where one day they will be dug up and written into poetry for the times they've become.
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Steadily moving towards an unequivocal time line, delineated in spaces of eternity.
Always being tempted beyond imagination, never quibbling about words, transporting meanings into depths of emotion and portraying life in up to the minute moments.
Delving incitefully into feelings being put forth juxtapositionally and focused on interior patterns of the soul.
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Pulling apart shards of a mirrored reflection, piercing my piece of mind, causing memories to leak out and affect me again.
No reprieve in sight, life stands still while a photographic movie plays itself repeatedly, making sure I didn't miss a single word inflection, expression or emotion.
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Popping up and down to rhythmic beats of exasperation, riding an emotional roller coaster through life, experiencing what most people can never even think or derive.
So-called serenity stands waiting, hoping to expend itself in interior intellect for times of intense grief and sadness.
Feeling empty, never being filled up, except by abandonment, pulling at life cords of reality.
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Stillness of purity sets itself before me in an attempt to wake me from a reverie of thoughtful memories.
Insipidly focusing only on what I'm thinking in pictures of musical notes, delving deeply into rhythmic beats of unanticipated melodies.
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Being entwined, twirling into atmosphere's of elated prose.
Beginning motions trailing in and out of fathoms of undetectable journeys as they're taken on sidelines of fantasy.
Contemptuous living, having elements akin to rhythmic essences, taking always, the best of everything life has to offer, and given freely, just because it is available.
Sincerely hoping for an eternal rest some day.
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Rhythmic beats flowing from an excellent band, playing volumes of rock, sending us on nostalgic journeys through good old memories.
Youngsters coming out, dancing to the music of uplifting candor, tiny tots flowing into the rhythms of yesterday, piloting intense steps in time with every beat.
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