Something different

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“And now, time for something completely different” Gun Roswell

Something different

Getting away, from my solitary comfort zone
Feeling the tingling sensation, in each and every bone
I wish I had eaten, that damned scone
Because no I am hungrier, than a queen on her thrown

Something different for today, was on the agenda
But, as hard a I tried, I could not seem to be able to bring back the referenda
Trying hard is easy, they said
But now I’m wishing, I really would get paid

Alas, working for free, is the curse of this writer wannabe
Some might say, I am the ultimate dummy
But, why would anyone one pay for what you can get for free
Even if the charge was just a nominal fee

So, something new an spectacular this ain’t gonna be,
I may be, some kind of scribbler, you see
But tending into my old patterns to hold on
Writing each passage till I am done

You say, I am boring and nothing is good or any fun
It might as well be the Enterprise’s phasers on stun
My advice then is; stop reading my stuff, don’t huff, rather write your own stuff
Then I’ll be the one scolding, the things before me unfolding

Writing is, hard?

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“Am I really a writer? Or simply a pretender?” Gun Roswell

Writing is, hard?

When life sucks
But onward you must
Writing, your only outlet
This is as good, as it gets

Trying to type, not hesitate
But only staring, at a blank slate
Why oh why, did I start so late
Why must each decision require a debate

Life is hard, writing is really hard
But it’s been said, out of hardship you become smart
By now, after all, I should be a genius
So why do I feel like so much less

Am I a writer
Am I a fighter
Sometimes, I am neither
Today, I just sit and stare

Alas

Writing is a piece of cake
Have tiny slice at first, a chapter of the slate
Then another bite, see there was no smite
Now the second verse, goes just like rehearsed

Before you know it
You have a lot to show for it
An empty plate
But a filled up slate

My command functions are off-line

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“All command functions are off-line, which usually happens during most days”Gun Roswell

My command functions are off-line

It is, thirty one degrees
Sunshine as far as the eye can see
Hot in the house, hot out side
Contemplating on the dilemma divide

It is summer and July
Should I stay indoors or go outside
Sitting slack by the air cooler divine
And if I don’t move, I am feeling just fine

Alas, it is summer, the time of fun, outside in the warming sun
But, once trying to feel the air with a pinky
Opening the door, the heatwave hits me
Why this is unnatural and does not fit me

There is no way for a northerner to survive
In that weather of plus degrees, remaining alive
When we were built more suited for the opposite scale
And in minus thirty degrees prevail

Slouching in my chair, without any thought or care
I really though it was best to share
Before falling into complete despair
And soon, all my command functions are gone totally offline

Rough terrain

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“A small walk through hell? Keep going!” Gun Roswell

Rough terrain

Walking until the soles of my shoes are gone
Then I will continue, until my bare feet are sore
Despite this rough terrain, it’s really all the same
Sand, rocks, even water, it will all end in a burner

So why do I keep on moving forward then
When there would be much better ways my time to spend
Lazy days on a hammock in the cool shades
Sipping drinks and eating food someone just for me waited

Call it human nature, or just some sort of internal hatred
The have to attitude, without too much platitude
Going on, even if feeling is none too strong
It must be some kind of madness, or maybe, just sadness

Until this all is getting more clear to me
I will just keep going, for you see, it’s so simple and easy
I can always by a new pair of shoes, and start singing the blues
Rough terrain, it may be the same, but I’ve no one to blame

Life on a Merry-Go-Round

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“Take a ride on the merry-go-round, something perhaps lost there to be found, a childhood or a reason for some fun?” Gun Roswell

Life on a Merry-Go-Round

Life is easy as pie
Life is a piece of cake
Oh, for heavens sake,
Life, life is never easy or a piece of cake or pie!
If you believe that, then, my dear friend,
You are living a lie 😉

Life, is more, like a merry-go-round
You get lost, and then again found
Life, can make nice noises and great sounds
But you might end up chasing your tail, like a hound
When in the front seat, you may be pushed, to the background
Riding a high horse like a queen or king, you may be uncrowned
And when you mess around
Be prepared to be driven to the ground

So, stick rules of the playground
Do and say something profound
Never leave too far from the compound
And never, never let yourself to be spellbound

Life is, a play, of merry-go-round

Blue in monochrome

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“Feeling all kinds of ways…” Gun Roswell

Blue in monochrome

That moment of blue soon to descend
When the sun on the sea finally lands
Having been watching, waiting, hoping
Only for the darkness and the blues
The blues in so many coloured hues
Upon the small me to blend

Ancient tech

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“Going old school style can be so totally cool. The tech almost ancient, but still working! And that is just the best, nostalgia!” Gun Roswell

Ancient tech

Discarded, tech out of date
Software update, came too late
Ancient, in the eyes of youth
For collectors, an item smooth

Maybe still salvageable
To a mode more palpable
It may not be an “apple”
Most likely, with it
You can play scrabble

Do not throw away
Even if it does not play
Use it on full display
A reminder of ages past
And, that nothing,
Was meant to last

Across the wide seas

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“The clouds heavy looking and filled with stormy rain, I know, soon will fade, because I am on a boat and totally enjoying myself“ Gun Roswell

Across the wide seas

Setting sail, towards the open, and still calm seas, totally inviting 

But the forecast filed with ominous promises of possible thunder and lightning 

And as soon a hit those supposedly calming waves, I am starting to hesitate 

What if a terrible storm filled with hurricane range winds, would end up being my fate

But then again, I was already determined, of my precious break time, on the ocean to spend

And no amount of hell of a high water, would ever keep me, from reaching that very end

So for now, my small vessel, I am confidently steering, with my face still in a state of leering

Because this type of a trip, was a long time in planning, and I’m not about starting 

To change those plans so well made, because if there is one thing, I really hate

Is not completing a set up task, even if out here I could not too long last

But the point here being, that I will try to be seeing, through this, venture

No matter the weather, I know this will still be, quite, the adventure, for me

A long sunset ride into the night

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“Riding into the sunset, it’s such a cliche, but looks cool in the pix at least!“ Gun Roswell

A long sunset ride into the night

The night falls and time stalls. The soft sand on the beach giving a perfect path for the hard hoofs to thread on making their impressions to last at least a moment before the waves hit the shores adding to the lore. The last rays of the sun trying to catch as moving towards the very west, but that is just the small part of this mission, into perfect bliss. Which we were told does truly exist. And this adventure is about finding out, whether it is the truth or not.

Riding well into the darkness, just as the stars are starting sparkling, feeling like royalty or at least some sort of leisure people. The ride going slow, with several of us in tow, but it’s just the flow of this ride of the night. Catching all those hidden treasures lurking in the dark shadows, as the ride continues towards the sacred meadows, the watery kind, hoping that one place of peace to find, at least on this calm night, where the winds have stopped blowing and totally now flowing with the universe, without reverse.

Wing side, high above the clouds

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“Sitting, wing side, contemplating, of something…” Gun Roswell

Wing side, high above the clouds

Taking a short trip, some self related things to fix
Choosing a seat, close to the window, so neat
The views are floating by, when I am sitting this high
Land, clouds, even the sun, this trip, might be lots of fun
The engine of the vessel humming, as I am too, humming
Transfixed in the scenery, there is no clearer view
Than on this wing side, the world before me, so divine
Mind drifting to other worlds, beyond, where this machine cannot me hurl
But confident the next stop, will be the pop
Or at least a week filled getaway, to enjoy my stay
Because, before returning back to the grind, I need to find
Some peace, at least, within this own bodily beast