RoseAnn V. Shawiak Poems

Surrealism at it's best, in a biker's den, having a bar-b-que and listening to a band named, 'We're not L.A.'.
Satisfying inner cravings for musical renditions on a Saturday morning.
Featuring sounds of exhilarating beauty set in visions of intuitive memories.
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Listening attentively to other voices from past and future talents, sending rhythm my way, through Italian arbors of grapevines.
Talking silently through the years of precious family memories.
Holding them as priceless treasures through the years, gathering dust from disuse.
Formulating every sensuous idea as it careens into my pathway, rolling downhill, stampeding my ego with beautiful mementoes of yesterday and the wonderful family I was born into.
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Politicians surround us with their lies and fraudulent schemes, always ready to take advantage of the public.
Smiling and looking into your eyes, while lying to your face, without so much as a blink of an eye.
Facing everyone, yet hiding in depths of themselves, never letting anyone know the truth, lest they don't get voted in at the next election.
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Pioneering souls of yesterday's untold strife, waysiding pools of heretofore uncollected data.
Reverberating totally throughout ages of long lost history, parading quietly in pages of recent books.
Details not fully given, because no one knows for sure what happened long ago.
Trudging slowly, forming circles at times, folding in upon centuries of untold eons.
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Looking into future realms while poems of the past
continue to speak out, rendering tears of memories
into activity.
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Hiding in clouds of my mind, lost in imagination's realm, unfolding fantasies in rhyme.
Silence, ethereal, still filling me without, allowing
total concentration on another dimension.
The world no longer exists as I write from within, picking
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Turmoil unendingly throwing us onto waves of trouble,
crashing our lives to pieces with each passing day.
Not knowing what will happen in another moment of
time, as we wait with silent breath, brains churning
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Falling fast - earth coming closer than anyone would expect.
Sudden pulling up of my whole body as the parachute flies out and up.
Thankful for seeing silken red and white above my head, I pull on the toggle lines and enjoy the ride.
Rush of air all around - jumpsuit flapping in the breeze - feet feeling nothing underneath them.
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Mind flying with musical talent, soaring with every note
and beat to my soul.
Socially moving up scales with little effort, taking in
every melody as it touches my mind's mind.
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