“A hat, in the colours of a rainbow” Gun Roswell
The Ugly Hat (Haiku)
Hat so ugly, you smile
Colours too bright, mother, got the fright
Only ware if you dare
The Ugly Hat (Haiku)
Category Archives: Daily Stories
Night lights
“So much going on in the night sky” Gun Roswell
Night lights
A moon presented itself above the dim light street
It was only a crescent shape but still bright enough to see
All the potholes and bumps of the road ahead
When making a way towards the current homestead
When nearing the crossroads
I spotted an ugly looking toad
Large and loud it was making all kinds of sounds
But as it got closer I realised it got even grosser
Turned out, it was a vehicle of some type
A street bug of sorts, supposedly for the sports
It’s headlights so bright I almost got a fright
But managed to duck into cover, as I watched it away hover
Then all hell broke lose as several streams of light the night skies fumed
A ufo or some kind of search light it was
Making those surround me to really fuss
An invasion of a third kind?
That’s all right, suites me just fine!
The lizard who died
“Sad little thing it was” Gun Roswell
The lizard who died
The lizard splashed into water
Guess it forgot it was no sea otter
Drowned into the crystal clear blue
It gave a new meaning to ‘just do’
The kind man came and lifted the body
Of this creature who appeared so oddly
Out of no where it came from
And into another place without torment
Bon voyage and happy trails
To the lizard with a tall tail!
Airport hustle
“Doing the airport hustle”Gun Roswell
Airport hustle
A very long and exhausting trip ahead
Wishing you had stayed home instead
Sitting at the airport cafeteria sipping coffee
Wishing this time for something stronger in front of me
But alas nothing of that nature is served in this establishment Trying hard to figure out away from this torment
Then a small group of people pass me by In what looks like a conga line
First reaction is to think they are really high But as the ask to join with a big smile
Who am i some fun to deny?
So, here I am doing the airport hustle And forgotten is all the other hassle!
Written on the run
“A poem doesn’t have to rhyme right? I mean it’s just fine, with words after another?” Gun Roswell
Written on the run
I wrote this thing on the run
So it may not be that much fun
It may not even rhyme
You see I lost my glasses and cannot see too fine
But as the good doctor prescribed
A poem a day would keep me just fine
So I need to scribble what ever pops into my mind
Even if it is without any kind of rhyme
For who am I
To argue against a professional
Otherwise it would take some kind of confessional
To put all out there
Which inside my head fares
So no this little ditty is totally done
Forgive me for any and all intended puns
I simply could not resist
Otherwise this poem would not exist
And so, I am quite finished (and Finnish)
Just had to put that out there
To excuse all them typos you might at glare!
Stalking is such an ugly word. Let’s call it… social media research!
” *Friend request accepted* Let the stalking begin! “
Stalking is such an ugly word. Let’s call it… social media research!
Checking your home page
For the umpteenth time
I must have been in a haste
For no updates I find
Just because
My favourites
Are in the ‘Ks’
And my followers
Are in the nays
You may think
I stink
And am
A
Stalker?
Prowler?
Fan Girl?
Just because my toes curl?
Admirer maybe
From a far of course
Devote
And the Art to endorse
Buff or a Rooter
But not a suitor
I hope you are not offended
As I await here expended
And I’d rather
You called me an other
Name,
Without the blame
A
Researcher
of the Individual
Now,
Why did you not
Answer on the spot
To my ping?
A phone call away
“Sometimes it only takes one dime to make that important connection… at least it did in the olden times, now if seems to be so much easier?” Gun Roswell
A phone call away
Pick up the phone, the one you are always grabbing in your hold anyway
It’s as easy as that, just press on the numbers on the surface flat
And if you don’t remember the exact ones, the there is a place of fun
Where to find all kinds of missing, called google of plenty a things
Make the connection finally even if it has been a long while
It will all be all worth the short while in the end,
With just a moment on the line with someone important to spend
Beyond the doorway
“There is something for sure to be found beyond the walls, the fences and behind the closed doors. Simply dare to open the closed door and enter to a world filled with mystery.“ Gun Roswell
Beyond the doorway
It can be scary and most likely quite frightening too, but once you cross that barrier, the one inside of you, the fear, then the next step, is to open the tightly closed door.
Watching, observing, glaring and looking, only waiting for something scary. And so, when nothing bad really happens, perhaps then taking the step into the unknown, because if you do not, you will certainly regret not having embarked on the adventure when possible.
The final sept, taking the leap of faith in a manner of speaking and soon enough, the large and wide world on the outside, can be explored with some caution but mostly out of curiosity and that is the start of the path taken to enrich the small world back home.
A bike ride in the midst of the snowy season
“Riding a bike during winter times, especially with too much snow… can be… difficult.” Gun Roswell
A bike ride in the midst of the snowy season
Finding a ride in the haste of early morning hours can be difficult. Especially during the snowy filled times, the two wheeled ride buried deep inside and when you finally get it out, a wheel just missing be might.
But no worries, you always try on some acrobatics and ride on the one wheel only, that is if you are feeling boldly?
The other option is to simply take on the challenge and walk?
Three moods to be exact
“I seem to have only few moods these days, three to be exact and honestly, they are simply variations of each other” Gun Roswell
Three moods to be exact
There are times when one’s mood could be described as happy, even chipper with a laugh way too loud, maybe?
And then there are those times, more often so these days, when the one single mood, even if it was assumed they were three different ones, but totally so, they are the same, and this is where the poem start the writer to blame.
The blue, the grey and then morphing into the very dark, the idea of becoming totally snide with a loud bark, even if the whole idea perhaps none too smart.
Alas, it was a time of regress, if this special state needed to be confessed, moving away from the fun and sun, even people who seemed to be always and everywhere around.
Rantings Of A Third Kind 