The darkening skies

The light disappearing
Behind the dark curtain
All eyes are tearing
Afraid of a hurting
Is the sky falling down
On this little town
The ever present ancient fear
Of the light bearing sphere
To be swallowed by the beast
All of us be ceased
Huddling closer together
Hoping it’s just the weather
Playing tricks on us fools

Calm and then… storm

The sun has almost set
Soon it is time to get
Indoors before getting wet
It will rain soon, I’ll bet
It is the moment of calm
Before the coming of the storm

Rainy season

Pouring Rain

The rain came pouring in

Hitting hard, on my exposed skin

A summers child caught in weather of cold

Just because someone tricked me and was sold

A sales pitch promising adventure

A bargain with more than the turn of the century

Travel to an exotic land way up in the north

Yeah man, I thought I had it scored!

So now, here I stand in the pouring rain

This ever changing weather driving me insane

Hoping a glimpse of sun to catch

But guess with this climate, i have met my match!

Odds with Ends

“Gotta have the odds to reach the ends” Gun Roswell

Objet d’art
Or something smart
On the odds and ends
Our time we spend
Without our creature comforts
We might be up the rafters

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

Rocky shores ahead!

“Life on the rocks, it certainly is!” Gun Roswell

Hard and cold they be, when autumn us sees

Onto the land falls, life slowing down to a halt 

A frown on the faces forming, when it starts storming

Grey skies the constant companion with me now

It’s life on the slippery, watery rocks after all

Hence the name, or the expression, fall?

The World really does exists in a Cup of Coffee?

“There is a time for coffee and that time is anytime possible” Gun Roswell

The day, started, just like, any other day
With a steaming cup, of the hottest and darkest liquid, to save
This, tiny soul and eventually, the world

Staring, into the still silence of the whirlwind 
Also, still knowing, that something, would soon begin
And, that it, would most likely, change the world

Smelling, inhaling, sipping, enjoying, the total bliss
No matter how much or how often, cannot believe this exists
The total euphoria, I would like to share with the world

But, before all that was going to happen
I am, into this, elixir of life, with full force, tapping
So, for now, the world, will just have to wait 
Until the coffee filled blissful state to be hurled

Time to check whether it’s real or memorex

“It is strange because sometimes, I read a book, and I think I am the people in the book”

So there I was, in the middle of the woods, all by my lonesome. No where to hide, no where to run.
I was in for a challenge. Not only because of me detoxing from the fiction I was greatly hooked up on at this point, but also living in an archaic house without any creature comforts.

I watched the car drive off, and then I was finally alone. Time to start the battle with the demons!
I went inside the wooden cabin finding a layer of dust settling on the surfaces. Sighing deeply and thinking ‘Welcome to the labour camp’. Placing my rucksack on the chair closest to me, I rolled up my sleeves and started cleaning up.

Windows and door open to get the air circulating. Making do with an old broom to swipe the floors. Luckily I had brought some cleaning wipes with me. Those would come in handy while dusting the surfaces.

A few hours later I looked around and the place was spick and span clean. It was time for the evening meal and I was unpacking my bag. I had several cans of food, some crackers and a juice canister. Now all I needed was water and wood!

The rest of my day went pretty much doing chors like cutting wood and hauling water from the well.
A few more hours went by and I was inside getting the wooden stow started. When the fire was burning nicely, I opened one of the cans, pea soup of course, good for any camper!

It was night fall and I had my little oil lamp burning and the fire was going keeping me warm. It had been a little bit of an effort, but luckily some smart Alec had written instructions now hanging on the wall next to fireplace.

So there I was without a care in the world, my stomach full with soup and juice. I was wondering how people managed to get anything else done in the olden days. Most of the daylight hours seemed to be wasted on cleaning and gathering necessities for meal preparation.

Then I realized I needed to use the facilities. Unfortunately there was only an outhouse and it was a bit tricky to navigate there in the dark. I had my torch with me so that helped a little. I just hoped no wildlife were close by feeling peckish and thinking I was food.

The routine for the two week period was pretty much the same every day. Get up at dawn, because the birds were screaming in the trees, hunt and gather for nourishment. The cottage grounds actually had a pretty good assortment of various berries and luckily it was the season for most of them.

In the end, I did not even miss reading, anything, fiction or otherwise. I didn’t have time, when the real life hit me hard, and using a log to do it!

Let’s see what happens when I finally get back home, where all the temptations await me!

The Truth, Is Out There, Maybe?

“Looking for the truth, or just, looking?” Gun Roswell

In
My Mind

Science Fiction
Science Fact
Utopia

The Earth
The Planets
The Stars

In
My Mind

A Galaxy
The Milky Way
The Cosmos

The Universe
The Intergalactic Space
A Void

In
My Mind

A Wormhole
A Black hole
A Singularity

Pi
A mathematical constant
The number 47
A mystery

In
My Mind

Spiraling
With random thoughts
With coherent thoughts

Universes and Worlds
Conjured up and destroyed

In
My Mind

Aliens and
Their spaceships

Humans with
Their flying machines

In the Here
And Now

I am
Peddling
On my Bicycle
The long dark road
A head of Me

The Observer in Me

“Sometimes, it’s good to take a step outside of it all, to just be there and observe life” Gun Roswell

I was sitting in the coffee shop, my well-deserved latte in front of me. I was content in emerging into my daily readings on my tablet, but for some reason my eyes kept wandering to the hassle in the bar. Patrons were leaving and new ones were stepping into the shop.

‘Why not!’ I thought. I could play the part of the observer for a little while before continuing my own tasks. Who knows, maybe I would pick up an idea or two for my next writing project.

Sipping my coffee, I noticed the young couple in the corner booth. They were enjoying each others’ company, looking each other in the eye, no words were spoken. New love was in the air.

Feeling like a peeping Tom, I search for something else to gaze upon. My eyes were scanning the room and landed on a woman with three offspring. The mother was deep in thought, or so it seemed, reading the newspaper while her children were throwing napkins, straws and other small items at each other. I wondered how she managed to turn off the surroundings. The patrons at the next table however were not so lucky. Shaking their heads, they grabbed their orders and moved to another table at the farther end the coffee shop.

I laughed a little at the scene played out before me. Good thing I had been thinking ahead and chose the solitary spot close to the windows in the corner. I had a clear view of the whole establishment, but I was also able to concentrate on my reading if I wanted to.

I thought to seek out one more scene before tuning myself out. I noticed the waitresses behind the bar having a heated conversation. I was not able to hear what they were talking about, but clearly the other one was angry about something and kept on ranting, while the other one was just listening in. Wide eyed, nodding every now and again. The angry one was waving her arms in the air, while the quiet one remained stationary, her hands seemed almost glued to her sides. It seemed from an observer’s perspective, the ranter was in charge in that particular relationship, while the listener did just that and probably agreed to everything the ranter told her.

I lost my interest after a little while and noticed the coffee house getting emptier. Guess the rush was over and I could get back to my reading.