“Choose and pick, which ever you may fancy!” Gun Roswell
Taking the tram to work :
As in a tram, you can calmly sit down and even have a ham
No need for steering, for peddling for even discussion of any kind, if you so decide
Just sit and enjoy, the ever changing scenery, and when you are ready to jump of, shout ahoy
Or then, just push the red stop button, instead!
“So, we meet again! My dearest, not! Monday! Why can’t you be gone already?” Gun Roswell
Monochromatic
It’s really electric
Even with only a few colours
You can smell the odours
Of the world of greys
Where all the light
And even shadows stay
Monochromatic
Is the world often seen
But even the plain shades
From white to all the greys
The nuances are there
You just need to stare
And up they pop, in your face
Monochromatic
I am getting quite ecstatic
The dance of light
And the bass of shadow
Never me fail
Just letting it all go
The bright colours
Do not bother me anymore
“It’s an architectural puzzle” Gun Roswell
Not saving any ink
Painted pink
The house stands tall
Winter, Spring, Summer and fall
In the harbour
From port to starboard
“The night or the day, no matter which way you decide to cypher it, the moon is out there, hanging above even if somewhat dimly lit“ Gun Roswell
The moon was out, hanging above in the clear blue sky, nothing there to spy, not really, but it could have as easily have been in the middle of the night, as the light, was so dim.
Either because of the timing, being that of summer, the day never ending, and so day or night, all the same, as the sun and moon together keeps on spinning.
Or then, it was the day of a ver dark and dreary autumn month, the shades blurring in together, to each other, the shadow, the light, all the grey shades of neither and then both, the monochrome, the noir, all of it one simple colour.
Whatever it is you see up there with your own bare eyes, is the truth, whether the sky is blue, or pitch black dark, the moon is always there, looking mighty smart.
“Summer is here and so is all the green popping out, was there ever any doubt” Gun Roswell
The green on the trees, the bushes, everywhere seen and even allowing the flowers to use their stem colour, as green, naturally.
But it’s not just the lush green, pretty as seen, but also a great cover, a camouflage of the highest caliber, as provided by Mother Nature herself.
The privacy curtain, certainly not hurting, the dwellers living beyond, the green wall, standing strong, against every kind of peeping Tammy or Tom.
But the most important thing, is not the cover or the wall, rather the fact that it’s summer and all that green, makes the air fresher and more easy to breathe.
“The unicoloured monochromatic construct reaching for the dark skies… could this be built by ancient aliens or simply futuristic humans?“ Gun Roswell
Touching the sky, ever so lightly, and perhaps because of that it is radiating the brightest of lights, even with the material concrete, but it is no more or no less illuminating, reflecting ever so softly, all that pretty light from the above skies.
Some say, it was built by ancients from the very past, built so it would last the testament of time, while others claim in one loud chime, that it just popped up there only yesterday like child’s play, but it does not really matter when or whom it was which structured the building, not painted or guilds, as it certainly is a beacon for us all, standing ever so tall.
So, what remains for us mere mortals to do, is to simply look up and this construct adore, give it the adoration it deserves and bask, bask away in the guiding light as it all blurs, into the surrounding neighbourhood.
“Those shady greys are everywhere” Gun Roswell
The sky so gorgeous over my head
I cannot tear my sore eyes away
Despite this monochromatic view
I choose to stand here’s and drool
Painted images with black and white
Make a beautiful tableau of the skies
Lurking greys are in the shadows
But only for the effect as the wind blows
Even without colour the picture is so vivid
With my camera going quite livid
Palm trees and cloudy sun filled skies
This is the place where the true beauty lies
“The colours are so cool, but then out of the blue, yellow strikes, yikes?” Gun Roswell
When the breeze hits the lower cools
And most colours, start turning in to blue
And then, you may just, detect
A hint, of that wilder green effect
All surroundings, soon, in a monochromatic state
Calming, soothing, but maybe, even just a tad boring
Then, out of nowhere, a splash of something fresh
When a blotch, then another, suddenly, you detect
It’s of the brightening sun’s effect
That glorious yellow, a simple add-on
But never, quite something, you soon will forget
“Oh Monday, you are so totally cruel and always come uninvited into my life, what can i do to keep you at bay?“ Gun Roswell
The Monday morning had once again arrived
I know it because I can totally smell its pride
Raising the ugly head I now know far to well
And then, there is that, totally fowl smell
You to tempt me to kick your non too rounded arse
As this day, always turns into some odd kind of farce
But if I did not already have this headache
From merely thinking about you to arrive and me break
You always make me numb, avoid of all the fun
Lashing out to me, with something or another
As if this beginning of the week would not already be a struggle
The weekend gone and Friday nowhere in sight, bummer!
But, there is one thing, that could help me pull through
That one single and totally lovely and tasting full brew
The darkest of liquids and the greatest of sustenance
Ever devised by mankind, which has no pretence
It’s simply, well, just great
So go ahead, take a break
For this cup of stuff is no fake
Go, enjoy, your coffee, now!
“Beach ward bound on this perfect day, at least, in my dreams” Gun Roswell
When the early morning sun beckons
For a day of total fun I reckon
It’s time to put aside
All the bad thoughts and worries
And outside, take a ride in a hurry
Because this life will pass in a flurry
So better grab on to the existing moment
Stop yourself from being in this torment
Let it all go and listen to the warm wind blow
Then jump on the wagon a steer towards the flow
This day is rare, there are none to spare
Just go there, wherever your mind wants to flare
Spend the day on the beach if that is why our seek
And do not come back until you’ve cut yourself some slack!
“Fun, fun, fun, under the smiling sun”
So, why don’t you, join in said fun?!?
Rantings Of A Third Kind 