Some Kind of Yellow

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“The summer brings forth all kinds of colours, and some of them are yellows” Gun Roswell

Some Kind of Yellow

The yellow flower alone stood, solemn, alone and proud, even in its own quietness still quite loud.

After all, it was a pretty little thing, it’s thorns adding a sting, to anyone daring to touch at least too much.

But as long as it was flowering, its petals glowing, with the yellow of the sun, looking like a lot of fun, nobody cared it was prickly.

As the beauty admired from a far, was as good as nothing at all, the summer brining out the best in all created ones.

London Calling

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“London just might be calling, but I ain’t fallin’ for that trap! Because you know, they left us, the union, so, guess they don’t want us there anymore?“ Gun Roswell

London Calling

The doors painted bright red, as is the whole boxset, like an alarm or giant sign, they were there, a reminder of the good old days, where nobody would be glaring at their small mobile phone all day.

Placing calls, only if you could afford, a coin inserted to the slot, and on the dot, well, with some effort, fingers numbing from rotating the disk filled with long numbers.

And if memory had suffered a loss, then the only boss, was the thick of the phone book, with names and numbers written down, reading needing to be fundamental.

Still, now, they are a picture perfect reminder of what once was, as no modern day kid, can even realise, what effort it took, just to phone home, never mind chatting, netting or ‘graming the whatever each and every moment of the day.

All hail the phone booth of yesterday!

Raindrops trump the scowls, apparently

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“There is just something about rain, I dunno, but yeah” Gun Roswell 

Raindrops trump the scowls, apparently

The rain banging against my window in the middle of the night, well it’s morning, but I’m not really counting, cause the loud clanging kept me from my beauty sleep, not that it was really ever that deep, just the same, I would like  it to blame, for the lack of my extension span, being quite low, in the early hours of the day, as starting with little of now sleep a day, surely a permascowl plastered now and there to stay, for the duration at least, but the I see, the tiny droplets gathered onto the leaves of the flowers I had bought cheap, and an involuntary smile creeps up towards my cheeks and ain’t that just creepy, but I like it just the same and the rain apparently is to blame!

Just check behind the open door

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“Welcome to have a look-see, our door is always open!” Gun Roswell 

Just check behind the open door

No locks, no stops, nothing there but the doors, which are open, twenty-four seven, at least so the sign says, so go on, don’t be afraid, simply step inside, no need to wait for an invite, just remember to be polite, once you have arrived, take a look around, maybe take a seat, stay a while, the people living there will give you a smile, their antics never vile, but don’t stay too long, because you know what they say about houseguests, who may try to overstaying their welcome 😎

Droplets in puddles

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“When it rains, it pours, unless it just makes tiny drops into puddles” Gun Roswell

Droplets in puddles

The rain fell, on top of the table and there dwelled, in small puddles before finding their way to the ground, being soon absorbed and then nothing more of it found.

But those remaining droplets danced, pranced as an onlooker glanced at the nature’s mini fiesta, in the middle of a summer’s day, before the sun came and washed all of it away.

The rain, might be a big pain, at least in some ways, but in small dosages, it can look pretty cool, and don’t be fooled, we need the rain, to simply survive another day.

Coffee, always as double

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“There is always time for coffee, and then some more coffee after that” Gun Roswell 

Coffee, always as double

The cup of in single, is never enough, especially when it is time to mingle, among the other coffee lovers, then definitely the cup size needs to be double, if not even triple!

As there really is no such thing as too much coffee, and it won’t last long, when moving along the crowd yapping on about, well, what else could it be about, than coffee!

What else is there? Life as we know it would certainly suck without his fine organic suspension every devised. As it does give you a smile or at least a big fat grin, as coffee might just be a sin!

All the stuff in one single shot

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“Travelling can be rewarding, but getting a lot of the cliche stuff in one shot, that, is truly a great gift to be left with” Gun Roswell

All the stuff in one single shot

The cliches shots are always a  must, as you must trust, they will get the most likes on any kind of social media platform, in a landslide created by the most thunderous storm.

But, trying something a little more artistic, whether it’s the angle of a shot, or the used prop, even something as odd, as a filled to the hilt trashcan, yeah, that is definitely art! Then behold, as now, you have been told, likes are coming down like someone just had unfolded, a medieval triptych, a cheap suit or just, well, can’t seem to think of more metaphors.

So, just go with the most cliche scene imaginable you can find, and you will be the all mighty winner of them coveted social mediocrity likes! (Yeah, you heard me right!)

down along the pier i see

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“The blues have always had a hold on me, not just the music, but the colour variations too“ Gun Roswell

down along the pier i see

so many people around, always wondering these same old grounds

the pier still long, and trying to stay as strong as possible to continue along

needing to reach the very end of it, before the setting of the sun will hit

simply because the view is the very best ever seen, and knowing this path will lead

to the very spot where undisturbed ,i will be able to simply observe

the spectate of colours and light, until the very beginnings of the darkening night

Bridged over the skies

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“There are roads up there, bridges, built on top of thin air, hanging just there in the skies” Gun Roswell

Bridged over the skies

They built them, way back when, out of stones, bricks, whatever they could find, just because they wanted to, reaching for the skies, for divinity, or at least, that is the theory, for us in the here and now, looking up there, at the skies, where the bridges we can spy, built by those who dared to dream, that there was more out there, than could be seen, by the naked eye, even if open wide.

A sunrise I do spy

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“The sun will always rise, even if the weather is really, really bad“ Gun Roswell

A sunrise I do spy

In the early morning hours, the sun will the moon totally devour, then spit it out, sending it hurdling through space, letting it there stay, until the night will fall, when the moon will rise once again, simply because of spite, hanging there until the very next morning, the dawn, where the sun will be lurking around, duty bound, waiting only to rise and reprise the feast, of gulping up the moon, the continued circle of the celestial battle as old as time, and for us mere mortals, this is all simply fine, only standing by, observing the eternal fight.