The mirror of me?

Mirror

Looking in the mirror

For my ultimate hero

Getting kinda scared

Caused by seeing 

My nemesis instead

Dearest mirror

You got me in a pinch

Be a good dearie

And get rid of that wench

Staring, leering, always judging

Never away budging

No matter how hard i stare

The image never fades

My old adversary

Just keep staring back

Mocking, laughing, 

Calling me a hack

Will this ever stop?

Maybe I need the snakes head off chop?

With my bare hand

I crack the mirror

Cursing the blood

Has the enemy stopped?

I dare looking into the broken pieces

Which is not easy

And what do I find?

A thousand faces

Of my nemesis

Laughing, hard

Pointing a finger

At me saying

You, are not very smart

You can never get rid

Of little old me

I will always be

A earth of you

Happy

Happy

Be happy

When you feel crappy

Do not be snappy

Even though hour skin is flabby

And the coffee tasted sappy

Just calm down and smile gladly

Then 

Surprise or not:

You’ll be happy

Good service is hard to find

Good service is hard to find

When hungry and trying to find

A quick fix, not necessary one of a kind

With money in your hand

Waving there where you stand

Alas unsatisfied you were destined

Because all the waiters had left

Even if you had paid a thousand

There still was no service in this lousy

Establishment which promised plenty

Now just exit to the left gently

And hope the hell the store is still open

Or else the rage there is no stopping

Energy

Energy,

Energy

To have

Enough

Or too little

Battery

Set to stun

Or kill

Energy

Full force

Or completely

Dead

Energy

Either have it

Or lost it

Energy

Cant live

Without it

Oh shit!

Need to

Recharge

For more

Energy

Best of times, worst of times

“Kind of a cliche isn’t it just?” Gun Roswell

At each ending

There is always a new beginning

Recapping the time we had been spending

Was one good or just sinning

Deal with the bad

Its ok to feel sad

Sometimes to get mad

Enjoy the little things

If you feel like it, just sing

And remember, no one can change at a bells ding

Take care of self and others

Shout out, if feeling smothered

Think good thoughts

But when needed, dwell in the past

Nothing really lasts

At least not for that long

If you are very strong

Its good to be weak

For sometimes what you seek

Is not a reward or a price

Just someone being nice

And a kiss or a hug

Does not cost too much

In the end or the beginning

Its just time we are spending

Sicko

“Times a waisting, when you are sick” Gun Roswell

Congested, achy, feverish, sneezing

You know that total feeling

When not one moment to yourself can be stealing

Just waiting in laying, for that body to be healing


When the outside noises are too much

Cannot even stand an other’s touch

Everything covered in sweat, but still freezing

And there is a constant in my ears, they’re ringing


But cannot answer that call

It must be some infection and puss ball

Cannot drink, nor anything eat

Just siting up staring in this seat


But then I fell like fainting again

So I need to go and more time in bed spend

Seems to be the trend

For this damn bend 


Yes I really am sick-o!

Life?

“Time, is running out, for all of us?” Gun Roswell 

Life, down the drain it goes

Always saying, maybe tomorrow

But that, never happens in time

Waisting time, seems to be just fine


Always the onlooker, never the one with life

Never taking, never giving 

Around myself only spinning 

Frozen, in a box, which never unlocks 


Watching, other people’s accomplishments

Peeping, at their special moments

Feeling the burn and torment 

Trying to shout, but nothing ever comes out


Is this life or purgatory

Or just another wasted story

Nothing gained no glory 

Only strife and continued worry


Looking out from my grey box

Hoping a colourful rainbow to spot 

Wishing for a tiny drop

Instead of a thundery storm

Something about everything and nothing

“Something, everything, nothing” Gun Roswell

Something for someone

Everything for all

Nothing for no one

A pile of megaton

Buildings so tall

A shotgun for one

Something for some

Everything for none

Nothing for one

It’s really hard to sing

When there is this thing

Joy to everyone to bring

Yeah,

Something

And then nothing

The Definition of God? (TBT)

Posted in the Throwback Thursday weekly series
Poetry, photography, tales and things that nature!

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“God is the most popular star in human history:
Loved, hated, or talked about by almost every person ever walked on planet Earth”

The Definition of God?

When I was a very young child, I thought God was an old, largely built man with white hair and beard, sitting on a cloud, playing his harp.

To be fair, I may also have confused God with Santa Claus, since they basically share the same appearance, apart from the red suite and reindeer.

When I was a child of school age, God was the magician who granted wishes through prayer.

Maybe I have watched too many Harry Potter movies? Rubeus Hagrid had a similar, albeit darker setup going on as the God image from my childhood.

When I was a teenager, before and during the Confirmation School, God was the guy starring in the Bible.

Or was it Charlton Heston?

When I reached maturity and got more spiritual, the definition of God started to get more blurred from a “person” to a “being” type thing.

Watching the X-Files and other alien types of “documentaries” did not help. Was God a “dude in a white beard” or some type of alien being after all?

Now in my fifties, comfortable in my own skin and being, my definition of God has definitely been clarified:

God is a very hot mature lady:
Prancing around in a sparkly red and extremely short skin tight dress. 
Wearing six inch stiletto heels.
She likes things done her way (and only her way).
Arguing with her is pointless and resistance is futile.
You are clearly aware if she is not pleased or happy.
In her spare time she drives around in a red sports car.
And, likes her drinks shaken not stirred.

PS. She may also be a drag queen.

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Welcome To Finland’s Midsummer (Repost for TBT)

Posted in the Throwback Thursday weekly series
Poetry, photography, tales and things that nature!

midsummer-dream

“At least there is no snow on the ground” Gun Roswell

Welcome To Finland’s Midsummer

Not creature stirred
Not even a mouse
Vision getting blurred
Or just an illusion
If you come to the conclusion
And dare to leave the house
Heed this warning
The rain come a down pouring
Soon you will be scorning
The streets empty and deserted
The barbeque outside forgotten and defeated
Shivering in ten plus degrees
Wishing you had paid the fees
Of a nice vacation abroad
But your plan was flawed
Planning on spending
The day never ending
At home in stead
Spending the Finnish carnival
An event most formidable
Even though holier than thou
Or the proverbial sacred cow
That was all but a dream
You hear yourself scream
If you’d only been so lucky
But now feeling yucky
Your midsummer
What a bummer
Surely a nightmare to remember

So what really happened:

juhannus-truth