“We’re horribly mundane, aggressively mundane individuals. We’re the ninjas of the mundane, you might say” Andy Partridge
Hard Times
“Hard Times!”
The wall boldly stated
“Living on dimes!”
Sighing totally frustrated
Could this be, the sign of the times?
Only bland tasting cheap wines
Walking silently, the thin line
Avoiding, all them landmines
Solemnly remembering,
The good old times
But as long as everything rhymes
I think, I will be feeling, just fine
“Our daily lives are so mundane, we get taken over by what is immediately in front of us and we don’t see beyond that” Benedict Cumberbatch
Phone Home, or ?
A dialer device
From a different era
Had to suffice
Let me tell ya
An analog connection
No visual perception
No texting
Sure no sexting
Just a calling machine
The only mean
For ancient times
But oh how time flies
Now we all have
A mobile device
“It’s always darkest, on a Monday” Gun Roswell
Mundane Monday creeping in
Looking out the window
Cannot find a rainbow
Closing all the curtains
Feelings of uncertain
The weather I cannot bend
But at least I can pretend
Turning on all
The colourful lights
In my mind
It is white and bright
At least before it’s time
To make my way outside
And face, the Mundane Monday
“I think you can find all the elements that you can find in great literature in mundane experiences” Harvey Pekar
A few, then two, then, only one
It started with a still quite a few
But then, there were only two
Until, finally remaining
A single, solemn one
Nothing was there, to be done
For the harsh time of Winter
Had finally, to this place, come
“Even in a black and white world, you can still find windows and doors, leading to another world” Gun Roswell
Doors and the Monochrome
The mystical hatches will open up to
Another world, a realm of magic and few
Other things you may not realize you
Needed, but always in secret, wished
For, and now into the this place whisked
You’ll never have to wonder anymore
What kinds of great things life has in store
For you, now that you reached the door
Open it, take a peek inside,
Look, listen, of what you can find
Once you let that imagination go wild
There is nothing better than that in life
Or at least in this magical realm
If you succeed long enough to delve
Then this is the place for you, forever
“On Mondays, you just want to go totally grey and reflect on the good days of the weekend”
Gun Roswell
Monochromatic Monday Reflected
When the working week beckons
It it that time you need to reckon
Whether to treat the upon coming days as friend
Or go through them one by one like they were a foe
Riding up the glass covered lift car
Is a really good place to start
Thinking whether Mondays really are that bad
Or is it a learnt mental state to be sad
On this one day when everything starts a new
Maybe there are days of bad ahead just a few
And the rest of the week is just fine
Until that much awaited time
When Friday raises its promising head
Indicating of a carefree weekend, ahead!
“That golden moment, reflected, in the windows, in the afternoon light – looks like we live in the golden city!” Gun Roswell
Golden Moment
The windows reflecting the light
As the afternoon’s sun is still bright
Colouring all the surfaces with gold hue
Completely irradiating the feeling of blue
A lyrical moment for the mundane grey
The feeling of dull quickly fading away
As the tall towers and the low windows
Make us believe in fairy tales and wonders
Our city now the golden one
Before the illusion comes undone
And we are back to the mundane vision
Of dull surfaces needing revision
“There is nothing to riding in the rain, even if barefoot” Gun Roswell
Motorbike and the Rain
When it rains, it may pour
Your mind and mentality, dropping to the floor
All them puddles just waiting
So, why the hell are you hesitating?
Just jump on that good old moped
Get out there, even if soaking
Ride like a kid you once were
Through the soaking rain without care
Soon the fun will come to a halt
If a flash of light will give you a jolt
But take the advantage
Of that free power charge
Keep on riding in the rain
Even if you feel a little pain
It’s just the asphalt under your soles
Because you dared to bare your soul
“The holidays have ended and the weather changed too, what are the odds!” Gun Roswell
End of the holiday season
The ever consuming darkness on the outside
Needs to be shedding, with some much needed light
All the small decorative candles flickering bright
On the window shill, I once painted white
As I watch the weather in constant turmoil
I venture back to the days with seasonal joy
The ground always covered with so much snow
When going outside was fun with only a toboggan in tow
Alas those days may have passed
And the changing seasons are of the past
But somehow the silent smog outside the window
It is still comforting enough, even with a little wind blow
“Almost every Monday I have a charity thing. I like that. I do” Yogi Berra
Red Roses
Roses are oh so very red
Violets can be the darkest of blues
But then again, so am I, so very divide
So try not so hard to mind
As this poem, is completely, out of any kind of rhyme
Rantings Of A Third Kind 