“Because it is a seat”
Old Town Respite
Sit down, slowly
Have a rest, boldly
In the old town, it’s the best
No need, for any kind of stress
After all, it’s Sunday, the time for less
Monthly Archives: November 2019
Caturday on Kos Island
“Cats rule the world.” Jim Davis
Caturday on Kos Island
“Are you looking at me?
You, looking, me?”
“Nah, I’m just resting here for a while
It’s cool, hope you don’t mind!”
“Well, as long as you remember,
You are in my turf now
So just move along before the clock hits September!”
Up, then down
Up or down, it’s still a frown” Gun Roswell
Up, then down
Looking up at a burger joint sign in the ever darkening skies
Then suddenly, sliding down the golden escalator, at the exact time
Is this a time warp, a wormhole or an other dimension
Or plain old mind trick, playing a game with my imagination?
It may be a dream on a Friday afternoon nap
Or simply a total concoction inside a writer head gone mad
We may never find out the real truth behind this tale
But does it really matter as the story for each reader will never mean the same?
Smart street art
“Free art on the streets smart” Gun Roswell
Smart street art
Painted in the streets
Most likely for free
Smart art at its best
For the enjoyment of us rest
The artist may be unknown
Appearing quickly, then gone
But leaving behind
Something wonderful and divine
With colours totally vivid
The onlookers going livid
Wanting to desperately buy
But this art work is not mine
Or yours or anyone else’s
Just painted for everyone’s senses
Enjoy, while it’s there
Who knows when it might disappear
A fleeting moment may be the existence
Of graffiti made on the instance
But dear art lover
Do not worry as you’ll soon discover
A new objet d’art
On these streets so smart
Sky watching
“Sky watching yet again, another sunrise on the horizon” Gun Roswell
Sky watching
As the early morning darkness fades
I am set and ready on my way
Hoping, not to be too late
To catch, at least, a glimpse, of the rising light
With my own, two dark eyes
And to admire that, of the magnificent sun’s rise
Watching the sky
I never feel like a spy
Only to simply admire
Of the marvels of what expires
When Mother Nature
Plays around like a true painter
Making art work of the simplest of things
Which will make each our hearts sing
Signs of our times
“These are the signs of the times” Gun Roswell
Signs of our times
The sign said “Today is, a great day, for shopping”
Now, did not hat make you pause for a stopping?
Enter a store, for something special to score
Maybe something to adore, something even more?
But did you not already have everything you needed or wanted?
Is there a need for more of the fortunes to squander?
It really makes this one person wonder
Why you would need the more and not just the one thing
“No entry this way!”
Much to my anger and dismay
The sign of today
Did not leave much of a choice to play
“No, never, not”
These words twisting you into a tight knot
The negativity filling the clear air
Feeling the rise of all my skin hair
All of a sudden, the taste too musky, the air too misty
Throat and stomach a twisting
No clear air for breathing
I am getting that all consuming sinking feeling
The signs of our times
Sometimes, make you smile
But more than often
The missing of soften
Leaves you hard and hollow
And in utter and complete sorrow
Autumn sunrise
“There is nothing better in Autumn, than a calm Fall morning sunrise by the seashore” Gun Roswell
Autumn sunrise
In a hurry, just, like always, so also, this morning
Trying to beat the traffic and get to the seaside before the dawning
To watch, experience and really enjoy, a spectacle, specially arranged by mother nature
But I am so worried, I will be belated
Alas, as I suspected, the time is not, on my side
As I am trying, towards the goal, as fast as possible, to drive
But, since the other drivers, seem to have, the exact same agenda
I worry, that all this hurry, is only going to leave me in one big surrender
And soon enough, my fears are materialized, as all the cars, come, to a full stop
As if by some great plan, they all halt, right there on the dot
Is it a red light or some other type of strife, I wonder just then
Swearing, cussing, under my breath, hoping, wishing, not too much time to spend
In this state of suspension, my face, in a constant animation
Feelings rising, emotions getting spicy
And then, just as all hope had been cast out the window
The line of vehicles gradually start to move
From the rear view window, I can see the water flow
Closer, and closer I slowly like a snail approach
The sun, rising, the reddish glow, reminiscent of a torch
As I am finally reaching the spot, I quickly find the parking lot
Rushing out of the car, I am running, even if it’s not so far
The pier, where all the viewers are now
In awe, admiring the reflected glow
Of the sun rising in this Autumn morning
Could not have asked for a better view for this dawning
The Scenic Route
“Take the ever-changing scenic route, around the small clear lake, that’s just so damned good!” Gun Roswell
The Scenic Route
Again, Monday, really came, too soon
But that’s alright, you stupid old fool
Since you are not going, to any kind of school
And then, even the working day, was totally doomed
Yes, that is the ever existing Monday mood
Luckily, the weather, was sunny yet cool
And what came next, well, you just knew
There really was no good reason to stay inside
And on top of that, make a gloomy face and plain hide
Rather, to take, a good long hike outside
In the great and good nature, open wide
With the eye shades on, then, step into the light
And stating, this scenic route, with a big smile
As there is nothing more so completely healing
Than, when the nature is truly revealing
It’s awesome energetic power and thus sealing
Into, it’s calming embrace, this small human being
Overcast
“Something foggy this way comes” Gun Roswell
Overcast
The misty air descended
Around the mountain side well defended
Bringing in the eeriest of feel
For the local dwellers with to deal
The sunny side now completely gone
Where the blue shaded fog takes a hold
The cold air surrounding
All the sea and land compounding
A long moment to be shared
Everyone feeling properly scared
On a day of October thirty first
And on it’s eve, following second
On the edge, or a tall order
“Nothing can save us now, except coffee” Gun Roswell
On the edge, or a tall order
When that specific mood hits
And you are standing on the ledge
Close enough to jump
Take that one final plunge
In good or bad the need of courage
Is like eating a bowl of too hot porridge
Some say it just may
Be that of a one too tall order
Alas a savior at hand
Just there, were, you stand
A tall glass of the darkest of liquids
Will never let you quit
Rantings Of A Third Kind 