Bad thing happen to those who wait

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“No good deed ever goes unpunished” 

If you think about it hard enough
Continue pacing, with a huff and puff
How life sucks and your left on the docks
The negatives will be knocking on all doors

Keep feeling those ugly feelings
And soon you’ll have the dealings
Of bad things coming your way
Played a card wrong, and most likely to stay

Good things happen to those who wait
Bad things happen when you hesitate
Carrying around all the baggage
World and all, in a large piece of luggage

If you want advice
Then this is not the place
I suggest, taking a short walk
To the end of a very long pier

Put all the hate, anger and fear
On top of the box you carried so long
Tie a rope around it all
Push the box into the water really strong 

Into there yourself, don’t fall
Now walk back, don’t look back
See how light it is on your back
Step is lighter too and outlook better

Now why the hell did you let it all so long fester?
This is a question for you and me
For you see
That person, is really me

I am so evil it kills me, or so they say

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“I’m not evil, I was just photographed this way,  on this display ” Gun Roswell

I cannot fit any type, how ever you want to describe
I am not so good, but not too bad either, I just give out that vibe
There is no stereotype big enough
To catch and box my ego, yeah, it’s that tough

Being oneself should be the goal
Not being afraid of making a foul
Labelling someone evil, just because the have a little diva
Inside of them which shows, and with a bow all to them give ‘ya

Evil or not, I will not stop
Being myself, the ultimate pop
If you want to keep up the plot
Then let me be the star on top

Prick me and I will bleed, for my blood is red indeed
Throw your sticks and stones, they may indeed break my bones 
But with a bandaid and crutches 
I will soon again rise above your clutches

Jane of all trades, master of none

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“I know a little of everything, that is my weakness” Gun Roswell

Dabbling here, doodling there
Building something, out of spares
Always learning, never complete
Not really sure as to what I seek

All kinds of knowledge filling my mind
Too much data to totally unwind
Many tasks I can do, but utter knowledge of only a few
So many interests all around, it wouldn’t be fare to just one choose

Spreading thin across the board
Never really gotten the highest score
Teaching others and learning more
But oh where can I all this store

A Jane of all trades looks good on a resume
But a master of none, can be a pain in the butt-e
Knowing less would most likely be better
If I really was the ultimate go getter

But the title fits so I’ll wear it proudly
Sometimes, even shouting it out loudly
Truth been told, this merry world would be less bold
If the only populous, was a race of masters in a fold

A curse poem

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“I curse, a lot” Gun Roswell

What the fuck???
This really sucks
Just go to hell
And break the damned spell
This isn’t a pissing contest
But i’m never really honest
So what ever hits the fan
Maybe shit or something
I really can’t understand
Why the fuck
You complain a lot
So what, if I am a bitch
I’ve earned it
You are all bastards
And few of you are assholes
So you can all bugger off
Hey, did you just call me a cunt?
What is the fun in that you twat?
Oh holy crap on a crapper!
What a mother fucker
You really are!
Holly hell, batman and bollocks
This goddamned poem
Is not going so fucking well
Sweet Jesus and son of a gun
I am still having fun
Cursing is what i do do
When I don’t act
Like some stupid asshole

Today

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“I am so totally lazy!” Gun Roswell

Today,
I have accomplished 
Absolutely nothing

No words spoken
No shower taken
No food eaten

Today,
Is not a such
A very good day

No tv watched
No beauty tip botched
No chore touched

Today,
Is almost gone
And so am I

Poetry, what else is there?

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“Something about poems just keeps this dabbler going , once, twice a day, yeah, strongly glowing, the words a flowing , the path ahead quite clear.” Gun Roswell

I am a poet
But did not know it
Now I am writing
Lyrics without biting
The bullets
My mind to the fullest
Hammering the keyboard
Not a big chore
No, not anymore

Ever since I started
I cannot be parted
From the blank page
That clean slate
Words pouring
My heart roaring
I feel elevated
Totally animated
Full of excitement

I am completely and utterly
Lost in Poetry

A poem a day keeps the Shrink away!

World Photography Day

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The camera doesn’t really matter
What matters, is having the idea
For that shot you always wanted
And that’s how the magic happens

  • Gun Roswell

Thinking

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“Thinking hard or hardly moving one thought?” Gun Roswell

Thinking

Mind in full spin-cycle

As my thoughts its trying to tackle

I feel like i am about to chuckle

But then lost in another puzzle

My brain is trying to hustle

Written on the run

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“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!

Ocean Vistas

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“The ocean blue vistas ensue to the ends of the earth, perhaps even time” Gun Roswell

Ocean Vistas

The gorgeous blues of various hues, last until the zone of the horizon rising from the vastness of the never-ending ocean

Nothing more cool or calm for the human eye, when those peepers do spy the gift of mother nature’s skies and waters alike

As there within the biggest of secrets do lie, deep within the appreciation of the small person never leaving the gorgeous sight without a wide smile

Saving the view of the perfect vista in the minds eye, for a long while until such time it finally slips away