“Open the door please, I want in!” Gun Roswell
A weekend getaway for two
Stopped by a sign at the door
Closed for summer, go away!
“Open the door please, I want in!” Gun Roswell
A weekend getaway for two
Stopped by a sign at the door
Closed for summer, go away!
“The Mid-week blues is once again going around” Gun Roswell
Early morning
The day still dawning
I am yawning
Too damned early
For any kind of bird
And even for the worm
Back to sleep is not an option
Better prepare a caffeine concoction
To get my gear up and running
Too dark, too cold
Winter day, well, I’m not sold
Stepping out feeling bold
But the it hits me
Like a wall there be
Cold air cannot breathe
Running to the car
But cannot get too far
Now i figure this wasn’t smart
Everything is frozen solid
This is certainly no time to frolic
Running inside in a panic
Today is a day best spent indoors
Closing all shutters and doors
Maybe a warm fire will settle the score
Minus twenty seven degrees
Will make you sneeze
In your footsteps to freeze
And wish for those hot summer days
Which just a few months ago left you in dismay
Now wishing they would have stayed
Weather, can’t beat it, ever!
“Not without my coffee, ever!!” Gun Roswell
Drag me by my feet
You cannot let me go without my treat
I can’t even make a tweet
If you won’t give me what I seek
I will scream at out of my fullest lungs
Tease me, and I will stick out my tongue
Shout so hard until there is no doubt
I want, need, have to have my coffee
I will not leave
I will not heave
I will not achieve
I will not be
Without my coffee I am nothing
I cannot function or do anything
I am devastated if I don’t drink
Without that wonderful liquid, I cannot think
Not without my coffee
Never without my coffee
See the pattern forming?
Consider this a warning!
Now, gimme my coffee!
“Nobody’s perfect, right?!” Gun Roswell
Welcome, to perfection!
A full life circle in reflection
Leave all your troubles outside
The only rule applied
Before entering the great open wide
Perfection is the emotion you feel
Perfection is the person you love
Perfection is life without care
Perfection is loving yourself
You are now leaving perfection
You only sampled a tiny bit of the selection
Is there something we did to dampen
Any experience you may have wanted
To try out in abundance?
I am not perfect
You are not perfect
Life is not perfect
Perfection
Is just an illusion
“It’s some kind of week-end happening?” Gun Roswell
Finally the time has arrived
So give yourself a big high five
It’s that hour of the day
When at work you need no more to stay
The weekly grind is over
And you have all the power
To spend each and every moment
Either all or in separate instalments
The time and space is yours alone
Just remember, they cannot be cloned
But, do not try to be too bold
Or you’ll be left out in the cold
Enjoy this precious time of the week
Do whatever your heart may seek
After all this free time is given only
Once each week to the all the lovely
People working their butts off for the company
Selling their souls naturally;)
“Let there be light”
A brightly glowing round light in the afternoon skies, caught my curious little eyes, as through the window blinds I tried to spy, at a bird high up towards the clouds trying to fly
It was a wondrous sight, which almost gave me a fright, at first glance looking outside, as it had been dark for so long in my mind, i had already forgotten this marvel in my blackened plight
As I kept staring, at the light so glaring I felt my insides flare, feeling the warmth inside and out, leaving me no further doubt, that I and my kind, had been saved from the winter’s grind and could be expecting life, to turn up brigt each day from now on, as the sun would grow more strong
But alas today was not yet the day, as the setting sun would now display, the days would keep getting lighter, as the sun was being the champion fighter, but enduring the harshness and the cold for a little while longer, was easier now, after getting a dose of the bolder brought by the shining globe
“I have no idea?” Gun Roswell
I have no new ideas
My mind is completely blank
Writing this un-rhyming poem
Is the only thing of I could think
Something, something…
I guess is better than
Nothing?
But I do what I can
(Do I really?)
Scribbling on my smart phone
Trying to create the perfect poem
And simply realising I am just repeating
The one missing thing all over again
So I am stopping
Right here, right now
Before my brain is popping out
I will try to take a break
From being a writer fake?
“Flaw makes perfect?” Gun Roswell

A flaw here, another there!
So many flaws, I have some to share!
I’ve never been inspired to be the greatest
But neither am I among the totally flakiest
But in the years of late for sure
I have started to think of maybe, a cure?
For that nit-picking nagger, who’ll find all them flaws
Or maybe, just maybe, give it the hee-haw!?