RoseAnn V. Shawiak Poems

Walking along narrow pathways, finding our ways forward, practicing daily, our individual likes and dislikes.
Wandering into and out of jams we get ourselves into, how does life put up with our insecurities and doubts?
We find our ways through entangled weeds and jungles we've put in the way ourselves.
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Fashioning mystery from inner imaginative realms, dictating it's solvency and picturesque vision into my being without reserve.
Lolling creatively along pathways of my making as I treasure every morsel of cognitive function in an atmosphere of abstraction.
Calculating nature's beauty in verses of a poem.
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Riding a horse named Gypsy down dusty trails of yesterday.
Calling to mind the pictures and images of all the past times with family on your mind.
Stretching legs, prancing through forests filled with pine scents, lingering in my mind.
Leaving nothing to chance, rearing up and stopping to camp overnight.
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Looking toward heaven, focusing on tomorrow with an inspiration of solitary purpose.
Contemporary domain, set in mind, able to ramble throughout archways and tunnels into several aisles.
Awaiting lonely souls, trying to move away from an existence on earth,
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Watching thorny arms scratching the air around them,
stiffly exchanging space with very little breeze to
help them air out.
Barely moving, entering realms of tolerance, kept
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Sitting here, tossing letter tiles onto the screen in my mind, aligning them according to thoughts for today.
Inciting emotions, pushing them forward and backward, trying to match them with what is being written and placed on the screen as I quickly write all that I see and hear.
A lively conversation going on quietly in my head, taking me into tunnels of expertise before I die.
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Livid lines of experience corner me at every turn, expecting wonderful oracles to develop and expand concentration into realms of extra-sensory dimensions - exceptional byways of interaction.
Many causes of boredom melt away as music plays my mind and takes me on journeys.
Telling tales of beautiful, tactful adages of interior thoughtful memories set in stones of antique forgiveness.
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Social departures are forgiven by no one, yet I love them as I quit society to be alone and write.
A euphorious feeling of power fills me as I pick up a pen and begin
to write.
A solemn space of time, experiencing contemplation in it's finest form, taking me away from the world and placing me in an empty dimension where I can create my own existence.
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Thoughts in flight, taking off into space, looking for new outlooks and spirits of life to take me on solo voyages beyond the seven seas.
Insinuating it all into one huge vision where I may examine and write it all down.
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Taking in breaths of excessive energy, soaring into pockets of existence where I can become totally immersed in thoughtful contemplation.
Signing off from life's routine to follow my own designs, create my own patterns, juxtapositionally from everyone else in the world.
Noticing everything passing by, not caring what direction they're going, just writing down the glimpses as I see them.
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