Growing pains like little trees
Taking root in my deep tissues
Nurtured by time and bad habit
Branching out to my extremities
With scarlet red blossoms of life
I'm awash in the experience
The blooming gives to anquish
And makes me feel alive.
– SR Romney 2022
Words of men’s souls;
of creation.
The inspiration of human beings:
Art.
Of being human,
inspiring the
Creation of souls:
men of words.
– Shaman Romney 2021
The king of nothing stares out
At the land of his ever growing ego.
He stands on his mountain to shout,
“I am the king of wherever I go!”The people all pointed and jeered
At their “monarch’s” obvious delusion.
For the dynasty he thought was revered
Was all just his own sad illusion.
– SR Romney 2020
Wasting away
The hours in the day
What can I say
Do they matter anyway?
It’s worth what I pay
If it shows me a way
From all work and no play
– Shaman Romney 2019
I feel I should do something,
But I don’t know what.
But I know it should be more
Than lazing around.My time here is short;
Every moment is treasure.
I know this but still
I waste time doing nothing.
– Shaman Romney 2018
When talking of success
Some think it is just luck
Others, claim it’s hard workTo create chance takes work
Chances to find success
Heros make their own luckStarting off well is luck
As you gain from the work
Of your parent’s successIn the end, success comes from both good luck and hard work
– Shaman Romney 2017
I stare at the paper, taking in every line.
My heart, my family, contained within;
The state’s way of encapsulating my everything.
My heart, my family, forever intertwine
On this paper, this ink; the court system’s skin.
My choice now is the tattoo needle, or the knife.
For my family, I sign the paper, and tie the string
To my heart. I will gladly give you my life!
– Shaman Romney 2016
I’m lost in a world full of direction.
Exposed, out in the cold, without protection.
Cursed to be alone by predilection
For wanting to keep away from all rejection.So once again I sit in introspection.
Every thought I have; a grim dissection.
All my flaws and fears, my imperfection
Slowly twist my mind with its infection.A small part of me starts an insurrection
Against these toxic thoughts of disaffection.
Grows louder as it voices it’s objection
And coaxes me into a resurrection.In this world, I’m trying to find direction.
I may be cold, but I’ll be my own protection.
I’m hoping i will find a good selection.
Of things truly worthy of predilection.
– Shaman Romney 2015
The artist pours his heart
Into the canvas again.
Each line, a memory,
Each color, emotion.The left corner, his true love
The center, the loss of a friend
Every section, a moment of his life
Laid out bare for all to see.He steps back, admires his work
This one, truly, is his masterpiece.
He turns to show someone
And no one is there.The canvas lies in storage
Next to it brethren,
abandoned, alone.
The artist nowhere to be seen.“There is no point to it.”
says the artist,
“Because what good is art
Without the audience?”
Shaman Romney 2014
Shame on The Universe 