“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!?
“Fire and fury, that is the colour, right?” Gun Roswell
Red, like a glorious sunset
Red, like the face after a long fight
Red, fierce, fabulous, jaw-dropping
Red, just like my very own life?
“Escaping to the future, or at least tomorrow?” Gun Roswell
Moving towards the fading horizon
Looking for the future in the past
A boat trip, one way
“Eat them with care” Gun Roswell
Sweet tasty cake like treats
Cupped in packages for your eating pleasure
Eat them without any worries
“End of the week?” Gun Roswell
Nearing, the end of the work week
Thursday, is not really what I seek
Friday, that would be much better, you do see?
But, let’s not let that be the chime
For the stop of all the fun time
Only, one more day to go
And, then, it’s time to start the show
A, weekend, a full two days
Just ahead, and much to do, in so many ways
So, why, do I live this way?
The week only spent for work and blunder
Always, someone stealing my thunder
Is it really so stranger, if I am an eternal dreamer
And keep looking forward to the only true wonder
The two days filled with joy and magic
These times made out of pure bliss
I have often had to really insist
To ban the other days completely of the list
Jump from Sunday back to Friday
Since that is the day, my day, when I get my way
Waiting for the working week finally to end!
“Deep diving into black coffee” Gun Roswell
Jump into the dark liquid
Let the vortex carry you far away
Later, drink it for happiness
“Call 911, or 112 if in Europe” Gun Roswell
“911, what’s the emergency?”
“Everything?”
“How can it be so? You must define at least one thing wrong!”
“Can’t, it’s all so bad!”
“How bad is it?”
“It’s all full of shit. Life, living, this… nothing worth a single bit!”
“But, can’t you find at least one thing? Something, that would enable you to sing?”
“No, nothing.”
“That’s really sad. Almost makes me mad!”
“Yeah, well, how do you think I feel? Is this, life, all of it, even all real?”
“Maybe, or maybe it’s just a dream?”
“Well, if I am only dreaming, then maybe, from this nightmare I can wake up, fake my way up and smile, at least for a while?”
“Sounds like a plan? Have you tried to stand?”
“I will, just now. Yep I can, I am so proud!”
“Sounds great, maybe it was not too late, just a while to hesitate?”
“Maybe, but now, I will try walking, one step, then another, I hope no more you to bother. I am on my path now, somehow, able to walk again!”
“Thank you, for the explain! Now I too, can leave this plane, help an others, onto the next level to be able to get.”
“Good luck, I will try not to fuck up… this time!”
“You too! After all, for trying, there is nothing to loose!”
End connection… “Beep, beep, beep…”
”B*tch, please!” Gun Roswell
I was made for you to hate,
There is no need for me that further to explain
And yet, I cannot resist telling you all of this
The recipe quite simple not to exist
Add:
A little dirt, some salt, hint of water and lots of plastic,
Place them in a mould, then simply, fold
Bake it all in a really big oven,
Hopefully, something soon starts showing
A recipe might not as refined as that, which in the end, is just fine, oh snap!
I am here for all of you to peruse,
Completely made of plastic, certainty elastic
One in a million, but somehow unique like a billion
I may come from a top shelf
But still manage to be oh so very custom made
Deal with it 😛
“Time, is not a machine” Gun Roswell
“I need more time!” She said in an urgent tone
“Please, or else, gimme a time machine!” She pleaded, most desperately
Time is always of the essence
Time is never on our sides
Time is the beast that consumes us
Time is the one who’ll save us
What a contradiction is time
You can hear it moving by each turn of the chime
Oh how I wish I could make it mine
Stop it, for a few moments, to feel fine
Time is not the enemy some say
Time is just about relativity
Time is a friend in need
Time is something you really need
When it’s running out, there is a deep doubt
Will I eve get there and get my fare share
Always battling against it, when I should be embracing it
But as I lay my head to rest, I wish time to give me it’s best
“I will need to turn back the clock, as I missed so much and still so much to do” she told the time master
“Please grant me at least one use of this machine, and I’ll be the best person ever seen” she promised
“Sorry, little girl.” The master replied, “There is really no consideration to your request.” Adding “Humans cannot fathom the consequences of time travel and I won’t dare you to do so either.”
She looked dumbstruck at the time master. “What a piece of ..” She thought. But knowing when to fold her cards, she left hand bent, kicking some small stones, as along the long and narrow road, she once again started, her battle against, time.
“Those who served in the past, with little or none in compensations and with too much to do, never a moment to their own, only a resting place in the end” Gun Roswell
The young woman stood there, by the door, not sure whether she could step inside, onto the floor, after all, she was there only for one purpose, to serve, the family, those who would have her, a labourer for the day, working for minimal wage.
She wasn’t educated by any means, but what she lacked in knowledge, she always managed to compensate with courage and hard labour, never the one to shy away from any given task, no matter how hard and long it would last.
When the working day was done, staring in the early morning hours and ending by nightfall, when the rest of the family had fallen, sleep catching, as only then was she allowed to take a rest, for a few hours until the next arriving day break.
This circle of her life went on for years to come, until she was finally done, getting a proposal from the farmer’s son and off and married she was, not her goal in life, but way back when, this was how a woman’s life was spent… or then again, perhaps, it wasn’t in the so distant past after all?
Rantings Of A Third Kind 