Alien vistas, revisited (at least, in my mind)

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“When travelling, in your mind, why not travel as far as possible, to the unknown places of the alien vistas?” Gun Roswell

Alien vistas, revisited (at least, in my mind)

Once again, I am slowly, but surely, falling into, a deep, deep slumber
And it is really not because, I am tired and want to go to sleep either
Rather doing my thing, and once again travelling, within my minds frame
Only this time, rather than taking the trip down, the good ol’ memory lane
I will spread my tall wings, figuratively of course, and then something, new trying
While letting the imagination fly, towards the very blue skies, and then visiting
Unknown places, out there, in the stratosphere, on the well known space trail
In the great and wide unknown, where you can find, if you really hard try, without fail
Alien vistas, with completely colourful places, totally opposite of our own world
The oceans and skies, painted in fire engine red, the beaches laid with soft dark silk
Instead of the usual sand we get here, mostly nice, but getting everywhere, so quick

No crowds to be found anywhere, which truthfully today, is pretty similar here as well
The cafes serving beverages and food totally out of this world, luckily, the coffee smell
Is also there as a familiar tell, so maybe, these aren’t as different from us after all
But when you run into a few locals there, on the open streets, the small and the tall
Beings occupying this specific place, with four arms and legs and three eyes round
Are a dead giveaway, we’re definitely not visiting Kansas on Earth, this time around
Not wanting to give too much away, as each and everyone should visit themselves
A place so alien and indescribable, yet fantastic, that only your own imagination can tell
When you dwell, inside those imaginable worlds, where your mind will be hurled
Once you let it relax for a moment, and go beyond the known realm with a turn
Then maybe you too, will have some, out of this wold and odd tales to tell
Having your own “fake” memories in your mind, even if no one is buying what you sell

To vote or not to vote? Well, there really is no question at all!

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“Uncle Sam, wants you too, to get up and VOTE!” Gun Roswell

To vote or not to vote? Well, there really is no question at all!

If the designated, United States, really is part of the world
Then why, oh why, can’t my small voice, from up North, be heard?
In this, supposedly promised land of total democracy
Lately, it seems, only been represented, by less than mediocracy
So what if,I live in, a very far away and sometimes frozen land
I know full well, that my own actions, could easily, stand
The testimony of this thing called time, and that is simply why
Each and every capable soul, occupying their space on this very planet
Should and would be able to bring in their vote to annex
And finally, get their say in any and all matters affecting
As on the very global scale of things
Nothing can be good, until the fat dude no more sings

Oh yes, I know, that some may say, this is just a stupid rant
But this time, this very year, my voice will be heard as a plant
In this form of artistic type poetry, hidden, neatly, in a blog
And now, no more than ever, we all, need to lift up this vale of a fog
Get off and up from our cushy derrières and pick up that note
Which clearly in bold letters state: you too, are able, to cast a vote!

On my Sunday seat, I do, write

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“There is always, time to write” Gun Roswell

On my Sunday seat, I do, write

“I am writing, I am writing, I am so totally writing!”

This, is the mantra, I am, always reciting
But, it so damned hard, as my mind is against me fighting
Always, telling me, the supposed truth, without smiling:

“Your writing, is not very good, now is it, so why are you yourself lying?”

“But, but, some people, like it, they even say so!” I hear myself defending

“That is just cosmetic”, the brain says, knowingly, “a social media bullshit type thing.”

“No, you are so wrong!” I hear myself whispering, but the defeat, steps in

And then, all I can do, is to, stop, my writing
So, now, I am sitting in my hard seat, and, I am crying
Thinking, through my tears, why even bother trying

“Defeat your inner saboteur, and you can accomplish everything”

A quote in a very wise book, as I decided on reading
Instead, as I am no longer, the writer I thought, but, feeling
The strong urge to get back there, and, yes, start typing

After some time, on my own, me and my mind, contemplating
I have moved back to the comfortable seat, and slowly starting
Again, my fingers, running through the keys, and soon enough, I am writing