Back to the Future or already there?

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“Movies? What are those? Sci-fi? Call it, Sci-Fa as in fact?” Gun Roswell

I was sitting in my time machine
Whistling this happy tune
Must have been quite a scene
With the bells, whistles and fumes

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Setting the date into the dialer
The flux capacitor pulsating
Waiting patiently, I am the driver
Feeling the seat vibrating

The dashboard flashing
Soon I will be dashing
Through time and space
Into another time and place

Travelling in my vehicle
The outside cold as icicles
With the speed of light
In a tunnel quite bright

My destination dead ahead
The tunnel soon to shed
Feelings of anticipation
Of what destiny awaits me
In the next station

There is no Try?

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“Just do it?”

This morning I woke with a huff
Thinking I had had enough
Cranky tired, uninspired
Fully setup for a fail
Checking my email
Another assignment
What an annoyment
Not an idea in my head
Wanting to go back to bed
But the little sound
Getting more and more loud
Urging me to at least give it a try
Heck, it wasn’t as I was learning to fly
So I did and finally am completed
Even though feeling completely depleted
But still respective high
Now the sun has gone to rest
And soon so will I
I wish you one and all
A good night and all my best
Tomorrow another day to tackle
But that’s another story, another haggle

The fly on the wall

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“Just hanging, listening, observing, checking things out” Gun Roswell

I, am a small fly, sitting on the wall
Wall, which from I won’t totally fall
Fall, would be a terrible thing
Thing, as if I would be killed
Killed, to the very death!

I am but a fly on this wall
Wall, observing everything
Everything, and nothing
Nothing, as today’s such a bore
Bore, because I have no sugar!

Ah, sugar, the essence of life
Life, this tiny little fly’s treat
Treat, as in a sugary snack
Snack, as without it I would slack
Slack, well, yes, you know, lazy!

I basically don’t do much
Much, as humans consider such
Such, is the life of a fly
Fly, but now, I really have to fly
So, bye bye!

Flying high?

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“Ever high up, in a soft huff and slow kind of a puff “ Gun Roswell


Rising high, above the clouds
An exceptional ride I’ve chosen no doubt
A big balloon, fuelled with hot air
Someone else might run away in scare

A hot air balloon, this transport it is called
For without the fire and air, the lift off would have stalled
A giant blob of a ball piercing the tall skies

And in a tiniest of baskets, the passengers are huddled together
Knowing, their life is hanging by very narrow tethers

It’s all cool an fun when you look from below
But rising over the rooftops and clouds above
The perspective changes into a worry of a fall
Soon enough, you’re starting to huff and puff

Looking for a landing spot
From where everything looks like a dot
Finally starting to descend
Thank the deities that, all ended well

Of Cliques and Sandboxes (Social Media Bullshit)

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“It’s just social media, not real life after all!” Gun Roswell

The social media
With it’s exclusive cliques
Reminder of a passed era
Playing in a sandbox
When one was six

Call it fandom
Call it friendship
The last ship
You ever expected
To be on

Hook, line and sinker
They reeled you in
Ready to give up your thinker
For world of cyber within

Playing by the rules
Set only by a few
If you won’t comply
Then out you will fly

Highly addicted
Utterly conflicted
Still trying hard
To get disconnected

No one seen
In the darkened room
The only light
From the screen
Sitting quietly
Wondering
If there is
Life beyond
The cyber dome

 Ice Defrosted?

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“It’s spring according to the calendar, but there’s ice on the road?” Gun Roswell

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The signs of spring are finally returning

As the rays of sun in the early morning

Ignite the icy roads into slow thawing

Blue vs Green

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“Or is there a vs there, with the colours I mean?” Gun Roswell

Deepest of blue and luscious green
These are the colours of spring
Can you hear bell the ding?
It’s time for a singalong!
Well, let’s wait until Spring has come so long

The Beloved

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“The sign says it all, taken off the wall” Gun Roswell

Mismatching socks and messy hair
Carefully watching, trying not to stare
Sitting in your favourite chair
Chewing on your meal without a care
My eyes fixed, I still feel the flare
Whom better with my life to share

Going on a walkabout

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“Walking is good for us all.” Gun Roswell

Winter, Spring, Summer or Fall
Never a moment too bad for a stroll
Do not the weather use
As a poor, poor excuse
Unpack your wellingtons
Unhide your dancing shoes
Into to the wide world venture
Whether walking, running or dancing
Might even do a little prancing
Your life soon a great adventure

Can I cook or can’t I?

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“Mommy Nature, truly can cook, and by that, I mean draw, with whatever down falls.” Gun Roswell

Mother Nature’s work of art
Colourful, simple and smart
Winter, Spring, Summer or Fall
Following the ancient protocol