RoseAnn V. Shawiak Poems

Shadows of this morning fill my mind exponentially, giving me cause for concerns of the future.
Taking corners, folding them into one another, justifying an existence of peaceful enamoral on transistional avenues of the universe.
Glorifying edges of my mind as, unfolding, I become the one at last - the one I always thought of as my being.
Ambling along trestles, mile-high, introducing a quality of thought that features novel patterns and shapes, beginning at the upper part of tomorrow.
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Spicy talents creating new experiences for us all, taking time to explain unknown intellectual pursuits taken from future dreams in night time closets, shut before now.
Listening to the lightness of humor, finding it's not always with us in times of exasperation.
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Watching from corners of remorse as futures get covered up with tons of other's dirt.
Falling down inside cisterns of yesterday.
No where else to go except in depths of my soul as it protects me from all manner of awful circumstances.
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Shiny patterns filtering through my vision, sending angles to and fro, fitting into puzzles of my mind exactly so.
Flashing pinpoints of energy towards whatever ideas fall before them in rote.
Scattering sounds as they follow rhythms in circumventing pathways of dull voices.
Waiting patiently as waves of puzzles flow into line, completing themselves in rhymes of one.
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Swinging from ropes of life's situations,
daring to stare it down in times of anger.
Never allowing it slack, keeping it taut
so as not to fall into it's trap.
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Awakening from a silent dream, touching my mind with a quiet sensation.
Reveling in it's feeling, going through oppositions of emotions as I walk along, fueling my passion with poetical stanzas from within subconscious realms and deserts, filling me with an arrogance of being.
Alone, swinging to rhythms while silently writing down everything with a pen.
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Realizing facts of life don't always add up, yet we usually take them at face value, leaving educated guesses in the past.
Rectangular squares rotate and caress angles of particular shapes, taking measurement of other facets.
Living in apprehensive beauty, whiling away moments in backwards time.
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Rushing forward into the eye of a hurricane, wanting to be obliterated with it's forceful winds.
Hoping to be taken away from all the drudgery and forlorn circumstances daily life brings into our paths.
Protruding hurtfully, causing such pain, wanting to escape it's frailty and have an ending to all the sorrow it brings.
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Sending messages behind backs of wisdom, learned by a sense of knowing that only I seem to have right now.
Considering the far-reaching consequences awaiting me in future endeavors, allowing preparation of a soul to be made ready at a moment's notice, expecting expiration on a final note set in rhythms of death.
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Clasping hearts, held in sorrow of life's passing, creating changes in each, no longer being the same people.
Grief standing between us, not allowing a closeness to be perceived as yet.
In time, maybe, but how long it will take is anyone's guess.
Purposeful loneliness standing stead until we once again can communicate on a level of trust.
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