Writing is sometimes hard

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“Today too I do write” Gun Roswell

Ithought I was able

To tell any fable

But seems I was wrong

But I have to stay strong


It may not be a block 

Just that I have so much in stock

Writing every single day

Without any time for play


But if I stop even for a moment

I will continue myself to torment

Write now or never do so again

Is how I my days spend


I am not giving myself slack

Due to so many years running amok

Not writing when the time was there

So now I have none to spare


But I need some rest too

Recharge my batteries just like you

But I am so afraid to stop

What if I really run out of luck


Writing is the thing I love

My outlet when life stops being fun

It seems a double edged sward

And I am still waiting for my award


So enough of this babbling

I will rest and later try dabbling

In some other type of story

Just hoping for a moment of this not to worry

Another day gone by

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“Today I accomplished absolutely nothing, and that’s fine.” Gun Roswell

Another day, so many plans

Sitting in my chair, trying to figure out the perfect scam

How to get away with doing nothing

And still having to show a little something


My times a waisting

When I am chasing

Too many things on my plate

So why do I hesitate


I want to do everything

And end up doing nothing

Just thinking about it all

Makes my head blow into a giant ball


Trying to do a little at a time

Might, for some, be just fine 

Unfortunately, I am not that kind

I would rather be flying 


Being impatient

Being unable to choose

I will soon end up a patient

With everything to loose


Still sitting, a day gone by

It went on the fly

Oh why oh why can’t I

Enjoy a little leisure time

And do things Mañana

Sicko

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“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?

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“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

Stormy horizon

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“Thunder is always a much welcome delight or fright? ” Gun Roswell

Red on grey linger longer

Anticipating thunder and rain, in magnitude ten

Best way, the day spent

Straight lines

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“This is some sort of shadow play isn’t it?” Gun Roswell

Dark and light lines across

The concrete and water cross without hesitation

Try not to step on

Black

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“The colour of my very soul” Gun Roswell

Cat as black as night

Omen or intuition, you must decide

Or, it’s just an animal

Spring Sunday

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“Shiny, slow, Sunday” Gun Roswell 

Woke up late

Did not hesitate

To jump outside

Feeling the open wide

Alas the hot air

Felt bad on my fair

And delicate skin

Because I’m a Finn 

And not used to degrees

Over thirty odd seems

So now, sitting

Inside thinking

What could be cool

And no require tools

But there is nothing

To choose from 

Sunday fun

It’s just a pun

Invented by

Someone who denied

The whole day

And went somewhere

Else to play

A never ending repeating loop

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“Stuck on a repeating loop? Please, be kind and rewind.” Gun Roswell

A repeating loop 

Was today’s headline scoop

More and more people 

Have been caught in this sequel

Of history repeating

As time has gone cheating

Us all in a movie like staging

Where everyone is pretending

An nothing seems real

And not a moment able to steal

Can we please get a new tape recorder

Where scenes can be shown in order

And at the end only

We can rewind the tape boldly

Monuments

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“Travel the world, see, everything!” Gun Roswell

Exactly at noon
When the scorching sun
Hits the zenith
The local marketplace
Starts buzzing with life
As the tourist and other types
Come out to play

There is no shade
And certainly, no shame

As to:

What you do
What you wear
What you eat
Who you look at
Who you talk to
Who you ignore

And don’t forget
The glorious set
Of monuments, buildings
History of any era
When you roam around
The old school agora

The water and sun
Can also be a source of fun
When the day is ending
Then, consider some time
In the harbour spending