RoseAnn V. Shawiak Poems

Having grown old before my time, but only in my mind.
There I cogitate and reminisce as if on a rocking chair
of ninety.
Balancing words and thoughts, exacting literal meanings
...

Leaves, still and silent in the summer heat,
trying to stay alive without regrets.
Quietly melting inside their frail green
coats of armor, attempting to stave off
...

Hurrying to destinations unknown and invented on the spot.
Taking particles and matching them chemically in my mind with literal thoughts.
Forging in minuscule compartments so as not to take up space in my brain.
Roaming about like a nomad in a large, unkempt desert, as I realize the potential I hold inside.
...

Thoughts leading me deeply into caverns of my mind,
...

Sending messages telepathically through melodies, giving sublime clues to find the way into successive corridors.
Alone, avoiding the juxtapositons of age-old visions.
Consuming many tunes, composing all manner of harmony, classified in domains of picturesque pictures.
...

Racing to keep up with efforts of fast-paced rhythms, calling out to hold on and move further into the spotlight, chilling the after effects of intelligent abilities.
Searching altogether, knowing which direction to travel so I can always find my way home in the edges of night.
Soundly collecting all matters of beauty, trying to bring together whatever comes into the light before night is over.
...

Broken spirits of women and children preying upon
minds of men who are compassionate and caring.

Wondering how to get rid of the evil demons always
...

Quietly contemplating life, glancing at nature surrounding
me in beautiful flower gardens, scattered here and there
at the center.
...

Waiting in depths of a lion's den, here amidst evils
of this world, looking about for a savior to come to
my aid.
...