Inspiration
Comes from perspiration,
Exasperation,
Copious amounts of cogitation,
And irritation
Surrounding the procrastination
Of my poetic fixation.
In it’s gestation,
This creation
Cures my writer’s constipation,
Removes frustration,
And brings sedation
To today’s expectation.
– Shaman Romney 2016
Carousel spinning,
Animals dance lazily,
Children’s joy echoes.
– Shaman Romney 2015
Sounds crashing,
Glass smashing,
Scattered on the floor.
I couldn’t miss,
the perfect fist,
you left upon the door.
I couldn’t stand
as you brought that hand
Hard across my face.
I tried to speak,
I couldn’t think.
I had to make some space.
The door was shut,
I had enough.
And then you start to worry.
Insults flying,
sounds of crying
“I’m so sorry,”
“I’m so sorry.”
You’re sorry,
until you do it all again.
You’re sorry,
until I get in your way.
You’re sorry,
until you don’t want to be.
You’re sorry,
Just to make me stay.
Shame on The Universe 