Signs of our times

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“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

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“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

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“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

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“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

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“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

Blue is an odour too

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“The elements morphing into colours, and then, into edible odours too”Gun Roswell

Blue is an odour too

The colours of the deepest blue
Were totally shining though
Which ever way you just looked
Land or sea, you would not believe
Even the sky, in total gleam
And, in the most gorgeous shades seen

Eliciting alluringly odours
In the form of the deepest of blue colour
Each more powerful than the other
So much so, you could almost taste a few
Those mighty and strong, yet cool, colours of blue

The elements soon, coming alive
In all the gorgeous shades so divine
The feeling of blues sipping inside
There really is no where else to hide
So strong the calling of the ever so fine
As of blue, there is really no denying

Some kind of weather

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“It’s always too hot or too cold, never good, the weather that is!” Gun Roswell

Some kind of weather

It’s way too cold, for an outing, of any kind
As the right kind of clothing, is no where, for me to find
The temperature dropped in a flash of a chime
Yeah, not quite accurate description of the on going time
But where ever the weather, is concerned
The rhymes do not matter, when ever is their turn
Because what is more annoying for this day
Is the way the temperature keeps my mood in dismay
Plummeting from a good natured warm type of cool
Into a slippery and mind freezing, mouth kind of drool
One day shorts, the next day, really thick wool?
Yeah, you hear me weather gods, you think I am a fool
Now, I am totally and utterly going to quit
And instead in my own little shack the whole day sit
Crank up the thermostat to a nice tropical warm
Wont’ even look out the window, so bring on your storm
For I, have officially had it:
Whit this ever changing not very good kind of weather shit
So thanks again for bringing on your wrath
And the turmoil filled climate change to our narrow little path

(OK, so it maybe just a tiny bit our fault,
But if you cannot blame someone else, then what is the point ;))

Raindrops on Petals

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“Gorgeous and complete balls of drops of rain fall” Gun Roswell

Raindrops on Petals

A delicate little thing
Was holding onto the bling
A gorgeous tiny and round
Lucent ball which it found
Falling down from the heavens
As they opened up at eleven
When a flush of rain
Flushed away the stains
Off the delicate petals
Of the flowery vessels
Like pieces of fine jewellery
Adorning with illusory
For the onlooker odd
Might seem a bit off
Eventually the drops will fade
As the rain sometimes fails
And sunshine takes its place
But the combination
Of rain and sunshine
Will keep the flower’s petals
Completely divine

Over the rainbow and beyond

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“Over the rainbow, somewhere, sometime” Gun Roswell

Over the rainbow and beyond

The rainbow appeared to the darkened skies
Just as the sunshine and the rain were divided
And the weather gods on this day, going undecided
The colorful object painted across the clouds
Mother Nature, in the vividness now shrouded
Nothing from now on but upside frowns

Monochromatic Ride

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“Riding on the monochromatic streets, on these, two wheels” Gun Roswell

Monochromatic Ride

On a highly tuned, yet very vintage looking bike,
Down the lonely, colourless, black and white streets, I ride
The cold winds, on my battered, wrinkled old face,
But that’s no matter, ’cause I am certainly not, *that* stained
And I definitely not, a person, whom in just, the one place stays
Not at least, for that long
Even if there would be, any sense of “to belong”
As I slowly, and intently, pass by the onlookers, they are watching me ride
And yes, that is really just so fine
For I am really not got nothing to hide
But heck, I may even break up in a big smile