Reaching for the skies and extended life, island style

“The old buildings are fascinating on so many levels” Gun Roswell 

Reaching for the skies and extended life, island style

On the very much deserted island, there is still some life left, as the breathing wooden buildings, tell their stories without yielding, to the inevitable decay, but standing tall against all odds nature might throw their way. Built a century ago, for those, whom dared to venture out in the unknown, life in the wild, or at least that is what it was like, back then, as this barren place was certainly not a heaven’s sent. So today only the wooden made shacks remain, to tell the story of the past, which should only in the history books last. Alas, the houses have decided differently, remaining in tact stubbornly, as if nothing, human or nature can do, to make them in the mood, of giving in. No, the are a testament to anyone, proof of durability that can, surpass time and space, as they stay, now and forever, the same.

Up and down the steep hill

“The scenic route, taken up and then down, with so much of a frown as it was so damned hot!” Gun Roswell

Up and down the steep hill

The only way up, to really see what was on the very top, was to climb the steep and dangerous and totally narrow path, with the crowds so packed, that you could not take a break without loosing your step. But what the heck, it was a holiday trek after all, and it was time to see it all. The history, or rather rate old rocks, once a magnificent fort, but now only a sad sack of stones, but hey, I was willing to climb with these old bones, even if it killed me in the process.

So climbing, climbing, never stopping, sweating, gasping for air, this was hardly fair. It was supposed to be a fun holiday and not a time to slave. Still, I had made the decision, to make my way up there, almost touching the stratosphere, as the mountain was certainly that high, and I was not stating this with an easy smile, rather a grind of my teeth. But there was no defeat, only on choice, to make it up there or die trying, well, guess not, but still, it was hard.

That was until I reached the bloody top and then, I stopped, for a breather, a drink, a snap of the views I think. And then, there was only one more thing remaining for me to do, and that was to climb back down again! And hey, that was another feat notch onto my proverbial belt! As I stared on my way, the bad blood and hatred felt, on my skin as those still on their way up there, were silently cursing all their way.

Snowy Branches

“Snow fell, upon a branch for a spell, until such time, when it’s warm again” Gun Roswell

Snowy Branches

Fresh snow fell, on the branches of the trees in the forest. But there was no one to see that, so was it then really real or not? Maybe there was snow there, maybe not, but the scenery, imaginary or perhaps, someone manage to snap that much coveted picture even. Even if it was all just fake, then that is fine, as in my very own mind, I am enjoying the cold wintry scene, from a forest, filled with trees, covered, in snow, freshly poured down snow, thinking of taking a stroll there, and enjoy my time in the fresh cold weather, until it’s time to change to something else completely.

Cats a sleeping

“Two cats sleeping, three cats sleeping, even more cats sleeping, yes, I do seem to collect them and now, they are filling, the house!” Gun Roswell

Cats a sleeping

Two of them, were snoring, one was gently purring, as the three cats, were neatly piled together, for a great and relaxing nap. As the room was quiet and no one was disturbing them, not even, the noise mice, so taking some time off, from the hunt, was certainly, quite nice. It had been a long day, after all, for the three of them, always on the prowl, sometimes acting cool and quiet, sometimes protesting with loud meows. But for now, it was the end of a long working night, and so, the cats could take their rest, until such time, when the dinner bell dinged and the food was served, but before that, there could be some time to play to be reserved, because these kitties, no matter no longer young, sure liked to play with their toys and have lots of fun. Still, that was not yet the plan, as the napping continued, over the rug close to the fireplace, for a few more hours, all else be damned!

Look out!

“Look, through the window, look outside, into, the open world wide!” Gun Roswell

Look out!

Above these fluffiest of clouds, ever so high
Life, all the way so fast, passing me by
On these biggest of wings, on the fly
Looking out, for any and all of the signs
Of maybe, some kind of, extraordinary life
But, for me, here, today, the only thing I can see
Are the endless mountains and maybe, the sea

In the open waters of the far away archipelago
On an barren island, totally for myself, borrowed
The life, is passing by, so utterly and unbelievable slow
The weather constantly changing, from sun to flow
Of so much rain, against all of the open windows
And, without much of anything, really to do
On this forsaken world and in my small bungalow

A suburban afternoon, spent, inside as once again, barred
From the common place of a playground, on the large yard
So, the only pass time for now, is to watch the life, through
My oh so very small and shadowed window, with a view
But, the place, is seemingly at least for today, deserted
As there are simply, no people or any kind of sounds, reverberated
Through the concrete build, of this community, of suburbia

Waiting, once again, same as every day, for the always delayed lift
After a long and really hard (and absolutely shitty) work shift
Feeling bored, and maybe, this is really not the time for any of it
But I am always interested, in any kind of happening, totally hip
So, once again, spending time, watching, through the panoramic windows
As the lift car downwards shifts and I am able to better see the show
Starting on the streets, at this hour of the ever, life so interesting, I go
And join the others there, instead of just standing by the window and stare

Peekaboo, through the view

“There is snow on the ground again, a lot of it!” Gun Roswell

Peekaboo, through the view

A forestry type setting
As the son slowly letting
The change of something
Quite new and alluring
White and crispy clean
Still untouched not seen
The view from behind
The trees to a divine
Setting from a fairytale
Which is not for sale
And lasting only for a while
And then it’s gone with a cry
But even if you manage somehow
To capture the image right no
You can see much more
Than any picture has in store
A moment of perfection
Fleeting by to a direction
New and most likely fine

Curious Cat

“Curiosity, made the cat, venture out into the wide world” Gun Roswell

Curious Cat

The almost completely, white coloured observant smart cat
On the clear cut and hard stone covered patio sat
Ears, neatly, steered, towards the upon coming sounds
As if intended to come her way, from over, the clouds
Intently, she was always watching, the endless skies
As if looking for something or someone, over there flying
Maybe just, a small bird, or then again, even a loud plane
Eyes, intently, fixed on what ever it was, just the same
Nothing and no one ever passed, the vigilant cat by
As she kept on observing, perhaps, with a hint of smile
After all, she was aptly named, by those of her keepers
Whose house she liked to stay in, before each day dreaming
While looking up into the endless blue and fluffy cloud filled skies
The name of Curious Cat, landed on her, and that, is no lie
And to be faire and honest, the cat really did not mind
After all, she was well kept and the only thing of her required
Was to keep doing her thing, admiring, everything around
Even if she could only fantasise of flying, seated on the ground

The rain and the blurry

“Ain’t nuttin’ wrong with a wee bit if rain, to wash away all of them stinky stains, which all over remain, after, well everything” Gun Roswell

The rain and the blurry

The everyday people, on the streets scurry
Causing, the image take, to get really blurry
As not all of them, seem to be in such a hurry
Or then, it is simply, the ever falling rain
Making all the motions of everyone, exactly the same
Fusing into one and other, on the busy lanes
Causing all the pictures momentarily seen, to each other blend
But, there is no more time, on this specific scene to spend
Even if I would get an umbrella from someone as a lend
It would be impossible, to escape the downpour
The only option would be to pray for sunshine or something more
Alas, for now, the weather as is, even though a spot sore
Will have to do as the allotted time is of the essence
As in this place my current presence
Will need to be hauled out in a few more seconds
So, what ever needs to be captured, during this time
Whether the images blurry or then simply, just fineI have done the job I needed to do, to get by
And so, for now, I am outta here!

The Sign

“If you were waiting for a sign, this is it”

The Sign

Whether looking for a wine tasting
Or a payphone to call back home
You may find something amazing
When you are on the roam
Follow all the signs
They will lead you to a price
But you may be surprised
When the credit card bill arrives

Monochrome Magic (3)

“Fall colours in black and white! How odd!” Gun Roswell

Monochrome Magic (3)

Hiding leaf

A half rotten leaf
Hang on to the tree
So strongly willed
That even the chills
Of autumn weather
Could not breach the tether
As strong as the mighty oak
It was grabbing on
Some said, it was a joke
Nothing could survive
The circle of life

“Well,” said the lone leaf
“In your face Mother Nature,
Serves you to let your hatred
Leashed onto a poor piece of dying matter
But now I am finally striking back at ya
So, deal with it,
For I ain’t taking shit
I’ll be here
Way until next year!”