RoseAnn V. Shawiak Poems

Incessant checking with interior motives of wringing memories dry, while they're processing emotional turmoil from way back then.
Lively anticipation, becoming musical in tune while I continue to write whatever I hear, coming through my mind's unescapable interior, causing a merging of ideas with creativeness, bringing a logical reasoning into effect.
Being applauded, holding together whatever is seen imaginatively through visions contained in outer limits of existence.
Talent showing through, being sent into subconscious pillows of thoughtful interludes.
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Deeply somber, hidden away beneath a blanket of darkened sadness, unable to face the world and what's in it today.
Head bowed, shoulders slumped, mind stashed away to protect it from the bitter selfishness and jealousy of others.
There's no one to turn to - it's a totally solo journey into the emptiness, caused by other's attitudes towards me.
Upset, holding tears back, trying not to let their saltiness fall into the raw hurt of abandonment.
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Ruefully awakening from reality, being slammed into other people's petty trifles and selfishness.
Their bullying doesn't seem to be enough in their minds so they complain to directors who in turn bully them also.
Jealous people living out their lives in asinine beliefs that they are the only ones entitled to save places for their friends.
Elderly people being bullied into submission by a director who's supposed to be protecting them from this exact type of abuse the city's trying to prevent in their homes.
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Hearing the battering of a flag pole in front of me,
also tuning into sounds of birds reaching out their
spiritual tones.
Giving an enormous pulse of energy to write without
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Resurrecting solemn emotions from a time now past, experiencing their sustaining echoes even now.
Somber feelings erupting in unwept tears, kept hidden from yesterday's volume of abuse.
Temporary pictures, appearing and disappearing like clouds across the sky in a winter storm.
Alleviating a broken heart, helping it to express itself in utmost secrecy, yet opening up and allowing the blood to flow upon old wounds, cleansing them once again.
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Saturated in melodies, fraught with memories, intensifying feelings, covering my mind with mild, heart-rending thoughts.
Forgiveness sitting always on the side, waiting to be introduced into conversations where anger and despair had been dwelling.
A simple word held with great esteem in thought, yet seldom used.
A shame because our world would be so much better off if it were spoken whenever harsh words were thrown around.
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