Coffee, on the run

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“There is always time for coffee, no matter where and when you are running, coffee, in the run, of course!“ Gun Roswell

Coffee, on the run

The coffee break does not read the time on the clock, ticking away, tick tock, too loudly, as a moment or few had passed, without a cup on the side, and so, there was now a great big gaping hole where the coffee used to go, a size which could only be filled with the strongest kind of concoction, the kind where even a spoon would melt in, and so, it was totally a large kind of sin, to go such a long time not consuming even a drop of the stuff, which made life somewhat worthwhile, and perhaps even that faint smile onto the grumpy old face, as nothing else really these days could, but now, on the run, not the morning jog type rather fighting through in the rat race, trying to keep the head above the water’s edge, and without constantly tipping into the coffee jar, it was impossible at best, and so, taking a mug filled to the hilt, a large one at that, consuming it while moving forward in a good pace, the coffee helping on this difficult race.

Light at the end of the very dark tunnel

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“Even in the darkest of moments, a slice of light will crack through” Gun Roswell

Light at the end of the very dark tunnel

The darkness long and harsh, without any redeeming parts
The land, the sky, the ocean once blue, painted in the same hue
Of greyish black, dark as the heart of the dwellers without a clue
On how to and this all and to get back into the ways of light
As despite, all their efforts to gather up some slice of the nice
And warming softly burning fiery light, there had not been any signs
Of the darkness letting on and so, trying to remain calm and strong
The dwellers patiently waited and kept on looking into the horizon
For any and all signs of the bringer of light to be anytime soon rising
There was a long time spent, just doing nothing special to relent
To the thoughts of never ever seeing the hope in the air
Yielding into to semi permeant despair, as all the things to repair
The missing life of the light had failed but there was one who dared
To hop and sit and stare, at the tunnel of darkness but seeing the end
And there, the very hope of light, and standing guard just in case
The light could be spared all through the tunnel and to all others
Simply waiting in strife, and perhaps tomorrow would bring it forth

Foggy day on the beach

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“No matter, sunshine or not, as it is almost summer, going to the beach is a must “ Gun Roswell

Foggy day on the beach

No matter the day or time or even season
There is an inherit urge to the point of treason
Against the odds that is, as it is, the beach
Is not accessible to most of us except during summer
Which is a big bummer, but then again, winter
Is the eternal splinter, with all the cold weather
Snow and such, most of us don’t really care about
Of course there is the options to carve a small hole
Into the ice if you are really feeling that kind of bold
And dive into the freezing cold of the water
And the running but naked into the hot and humid sauna
But, for now, it might not be the perfect kind of state
As spring and therefore summer are totally delayed
For a visit to the sandy shores, still, trying as one must do
Getting there, in the foggy kind of haze, finding the perfect place
And then laying down on the sun bed, even if clothed fully
In warm winter clothing, but it is already April and the beach?Well, it may be out of reach for some time more
But hey, spending a day, even in the icy cold winds
It was still the beach and nothing or no one can deny
That I’ve got a huge big smile on my face just because, beach!

Achtung! Attention!

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“Always watch out, and be on the look out, heightened state of alert, as something will always fall down!” Gun Roswell

Achtung! Attention!

There is always a kind of danger out there
Lurking, waiting, wherever you will dare to venture
But there is no need to get discouraged
Especially if you ate your plate of porridge
In the early morning before heading to the office
Because it will give you special kind of powers
And the streets you can walk for many hours
Without any kind of fear of being run over
Or getting hit by some force never seen before
So, when getting to the store, buying some milk
Or maybe even coffee, the taste being totally silk
Do not worry, rather walk with a jive step forward
Even to the bus stop, move like you wanna rock
As the danger is an illusion, a fear from the past
And so, with that in mind, well, move along fine
But hey, just in case, take with you an umbrella
It might start to rain!

Coffee and a side dish

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“There is nothing wrong with coffee! Then again, adding a sugary snack on the side? Well, guess I should try?“ Gun Roswell

Coffee and a side dish

The simple cup of black coffee, seems to be lacking

Of something else, hovering above in stacking

Perhaps a taste of something soft and sweet 

Not that, coffee, usually, really never needed

As anything to disturb the essence of the dark liquid

Even if it would only be a side trip real, real quick

Whatever you may feel about this potent stuff of life

The coffee in the cup, the only thing in this life right

Perhaps just give it a chance, taking a small bite 

At first, washing it down with the coffee learnt

And then, if it feels totally good without a choice

Then perhaps reconsider, having the coffee some slack

Not that it and consumption in anyway needs to be toned back

Rather have a day in a week, regularly like
To add one thing sweet, in the menu like spice

Then feel how much better the break taken for this stuff

Will give you a tad more of the sugary fluff

Perhaps missing for the simple and straight cup

Of coffee, well, it might not be so much

But a bit of variety in the routine, never hurt anyone 

The Queen of my very own castle

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“This is my castle, my domain, my place to stay and do there as I please, as I am the Queen of it all” Gun Roswell

The Queen of my very own castle

The idea totally thrilling, positively spine chilling, as the very thought, of being in control, at least of a small pile of rocks, turning into a house of sorts, a castle some might call it, but that does not really matter, as whatever happens, it will be mine and mine alone, and then I can feel totally like a ten feet tall somebody, as I am the soul occupier and owner of the bold state of it all, the castle as I all it, no matter what anyone else says, this place is the top and for me, myself and I, this is a total high point in life as I get to play, the one and only Queen who can here stay, because I am the one and only ruler of it all and hey, if you want to drop by, and see what makes me so widely smile? Well, guess it is okay, but bring presents and I will let you for a while stay. 

Blue skies without any clouds

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“There are nothing but blues skies ahead of us from now on, well, at least for today, am I right?“ Gun Roswell 

Blue skies without any clouds

The skies are totally blue, and it is obvious this is some kind of similar hue, to that of the waters play in the many pools, and somehow, even the eyes, of some of us reflect the same, and being one with the cosmos every now and again, feels totally good, then again, it is just a colour some would say, exactly like the grey, and soon enough, this one too will fade, but until that very time, let’s simply bask in the softness of the light and the touches of the varied of those gorgeous blues, painted across the skies without even one fluffy cloud in sight, and that, is the might, of the colour of blue, no matter what the hue.

Blue a peeking through

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“There is always light between the total darkness, even inside the blues” Gun Roswell

Blue a peeking through

The darkened tall stairway, leading nowhere and then again everywhere
But seeing without light was a strife to move forward in the pitch black night
Then a flash of something caught the eyes now wandering around the place
Perhaps there was somewhere safe to stay, until the light of the coming day
Would emerge though the cracks in the walls, windows, as some them called
While resting on the steps, for a moment to get some rest from wandering
The soft blue glow of the emerging day was starting to show through the walls
And so soon, the blues becoming strong enough, to guide the weary wanderer
Ever upwards the stairs, leading to some place nice, at least that was the hope
As it had been sometime, stuck inside, the dark space without a clue or trace
But now, as the bluish light was steadily winning the fight against the darkness
It was time to start moving and ever so high, towards the top of the stairs
As this was where the flares of life were beginning, with the early morning light

The divider of shadow and light

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“The sunshine of the shortened day, soon going away, as the darkness from the other side of the fence, will be there in a moment no less, giving us once again, a long, cold and dark night, as such is the season we are living in” Gun Roswell

The divider of shadow and light

It was still somewhat of light, not really that bright, alas, it was a great sight, as there were finally shadows, when previously there had been only darkness in place. But this precious moment was delivered in the middle of somewhat torment not being able to really see, the path ahead, as all had been in the total darkness for a long while, and that was nothing to cause a smile.

Alas, this day was totally different, as the divider of the shadow and light had finally won the fight, the dark side, slowly but surely reseeding, and the light side gaining the control it really needed as do we all, as having a glimpse of hope, the light growing ever so strong, each and every day, and knowing this fact it was only a matter of a short while before all of us, would be out there in the light with huge big grinning smiles.

Street Artist

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“The artist are always at work, creating, doing their thing, even on the streets” Gun Roswell

Street Artist

The art is the most important part of their lives, those who for their own views in life thrive, the ones who do not care as to what other people say, as of their displays, as the art work they create is their labour of love, and those who do not like what the end result depicts, well, they can easily stick it… but then again, art is always subjective and that is simply fine, as most of it, is clearly created out of the divine.

As much divine as this particular artist of the streets, their paint work gracing those passers by, whom always beauty seek, can find those things in the art of this simple painter working on the streets, perhaps in a quick session of drawing once own face or the pre painted flowery fields, no matter what the scene, it’s all good, because the beauty of anything really, is in the eye of the beholder, and so, those out there scolding on something being not good, it is simply a matter of being misunderstood, so better take another look, and see what you can find there in stead.