Take a hot steam bath in a Sauna (Happy Independence Day Finland!!!)

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“It is always warm in the sauna, the temperature close to subtropical, even more so, when pouring water onto the heated stones, the sizzling sounds, the steam, all of it, making it hard to breathe, at  least for a moment there, before it all settles and there is nothing more of to care, the ol’ brain having gone all mushy, and isn’t that just blissful!” Gun Roswell.

Take a steam bath, in a lukewarm Sauna

The Finns do love their sauna, there is really nothing there, holding trauma, simply the sense of family and calm, the warmth, water and smells of heated wood, filling the small dark corner of a nook, where the weekly grind will slowly but surely slide, off of any kind of skin, and it’s really not a sin, to just let all the worry go, take things slow, for a moment in time, even if needing to steal the spell, to have for oneself, then becoming one with the cosmos, as the fuzzy steamy atmosphere descends upon the small room, the place which the whole family shares, for just this one fleeting moment, letting go of all, embracing the nothingness and into it fall, until it is time to put another log into the fire, stir the steamy stones and wait for another heatwave to hit.

Happy Independence Day Finland! (established 1917)

Slow day

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“Slow day today” Gun Roswell

Slow day

On a slow day
Better in doors stay
No use over anything to slay
Today, is such a slow day

On a slow day
Wallow in dismay
No one will you blame
Because today, is a slow day

On a slow day
Just for a while longer on the bed lay
So what if the house is in a disarray
Today, is a very slow day

On a slow day
No news, no TV, no plays
Let your brain in zero gravity stay
Because today, on this slow day
Nobody expects nothing from no one else

Life is not perfect

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“Life is not perfect and neither am I “ Gun Roswell

Life is not perfect

Every day a pretty smile for the camera
This target requires loads of stamina
Acting, pretending, life is just dandy
Secretly crying, and eating that last piece of candy

Money may be tight, cannot afford the evening light
Eating the neighbour’s leftovers, dug up from the bio trash bin, not such a sin
Living life to the fullest, only to find out you’re the dullest
Watching pictures from friends on the Instagram, basking in the sun of a foreign land

Realising all the best laid plans, went down the drain, with the spring rain
Making up the perfect image, the best produced scam, imagined anyone can
Acting, playing the part, none of the wiser, but you are the biggest lier
Facade so permanent, face turning into stone, sooner or later it will reach your bones

Wake up, before it is too late
Learn, to not yourself to hate
Life is not perfect and neither are you
You thought different, but you are the biggest fool

After all, you are a just a tiny ball, in the worldwide game of pinball
Thrown against the walls, like everyone else, and sooner or later, everyone falls
You can try to stall, play a different song
But none of us are strong, it’s all just pretend

A Snowy Bench to Sit on

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“Try it, it might feel okay, not too cold nor too hot, a respite of sorts” Gun Roswell

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A Snowy Bench to Sit on

I finally found it
A bench made of metal
For me to sit
Soft as a petal
A purr-fect fit

Never – trust a smiling cat

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“The cat, a superior being in everyday, trustful, loyal and always polite… wait a minute! That is the description, mostly, of a dog! Oh well, a few white lies never hurt anyone!“ Gun Roswell

Never – trust a smiling cat

The cat who on the street corner sat in a cool looking hat, and with an attitude that of a worldly guide then promised to take the traveller from a far away country, on a tour around the city, as walking around in a new town, could make one totally giddy.

So, hopping on the tiny moped with a cure two seater side car, as it was not supposed to be too fast, because a lot of great things that way could be passed while riding around too wildly, but not today as the cat had promised smiling, to have an easy peasy slow ride and that way, getting to know all those important sights.

But, soon enough, the tourists from a far, noticed the route, had taken a strange sideline and the cat, while in charge of showing its home town to the strangers from beyond, was now actually taking them to an alleyway, where the noises were growing ever more strong.

As the shocked travellers found out where they had landed, on remote alley filled with meowing cats and kittens as there can be. The cat with the hat, the supposed tour guide then once again smiled, this time, wickedly, and simply stated. “We will take you back, but first, there is an extra charge for that to happen. You see, we need our daily fishies and as we are many, and for that, a lot more money is needed as a matter of fact.”

The tourists then glanced around, feeling sorry for the starving crowd. So, without hesitation, they gave all the money they had and with a thanks, the tour then proceeded as promised from then on without worries as the cat with a wide wicked smile, had earned its daily grind fee, feeding all the family, which was never easy. And the earnings from the weary travellers, usually came pretty easily, supporting the cats cause with a gentle feeling.

Well, that was the tale of odd today, the lesson, not very strong, guess if any, then the one of never trusting a smiling cat, unless you are generous enough to feed the whole litter of them.

Friday and the Cup of Coffee

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“The day of free, well Friday at least, is upon us and what better way to celebrate than with a nice cup of coffee, right?“ Gun Roswell

Friday and the Cup of Coffee

Friday, is here and so, a giant enormous cup of coffee is poured, simply because, it is the best way, to celebrate, the fact, that the weekend is upon, even if the day itself and the coffee, really do not make any sense, but then again, coffee, goes with everything and nothing, and if I feel like it is the very thing, to be used for some minor celebratory action? Well, then, who will stop me?

So, now that it is all settled, I too, will settle, with my feet up, without too much of a huff or puff, and watch the weekend silently descend upon my very self, of course, enjoying my big cup of the finest organic suspension ever devised and that is all I am going to do, over this weekend of free, and if some of you disagree, feel free, to sue me!

Red Bikes 2

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“Come on, let’s ride!” Gun Roswell

Red Bikes 2

Old and busted
New and shiny
Two choices
With their own voices
Which do you want
To take as your ride
On the road fly
Or at least try
It’s not so easy
With bikes as tiny
But try you may
On the road stay
For a time minimum
Until sore is your bum
Then take a rest
You’ve earned it
With the best

Red Bikes 1

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“Come on, let’s ride!” Gun Roswell

Red Bikes 1

A scooter
Going harder
Well,
As fast as it can
It has a limited span
The motor
Quite minimal
You can count,
The two decimals
But it doesn’t matter
Because the nature
And the colour
Of this tiny ride
Is as bright
You want to holler
Bright red
Painted with care
This ride
You really don’t
Want to share

The smell of sweet Coffee

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“Coffee, by any other name” Gun Roswell

The smell of sweet Coffee

That, sweetest of smells
Myself, totally sells
Oh, let’s no longer dwell
Or at each other hatefully yell

But go get, what’s at the end of, that rainbow, which looks and smells, so adorable

Because, all I know for sure
Is that, the world go for a hurl
My hair would wind into curls
If I don’t get my cup of pure

Gold, dark, sustenance
Made of the finest materials
The smell so sweet and extravagant
It gives me the soul reason for existence

Coffee, by any other name, would smell as sweet

Rain, no shine

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“Bring me rain, to breathe” Gun Roswell

Rain, no shine

Bring me no shine no more
But lots of rain down on me pour
I need to breathe in the liquid
This sunshine is killing me quickly

I tried so hard to adjust
Because I was told I must
But in the scorching light
I feel my will lost the fight

I was happier in the darker dreary
Feeling everything near me
The shiny bright open wide
I cannot find a place to hide

Shadow almost gone now
Even the winds hotly blow
Only one place left to go
But I cannot reach the under growth

Please hear my plead o’ mighty Thor
Send down some rain and roar
Heal this bleeding sores
Before all that remains is deadly scorned