“That golden moment, reflected, in the windows, in the afternoon light – looks like we live in the golden city!” Gun Roswell
A golden moment arrived
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
“A seat on the shady side, after an exploratory day in the fun filled sun, is a nice find” Gun Roswell
A seat on the shady side of the sun
The weary traveler still pushes on, even if the day has been far too warm and way too long Gotta go, gotta see, gotta feel, gotta do and that one final monument or explore the long lost mystery But then at the brink of total exhaustion, when on the very last nerve the traveler is trying to hold on In desperate need, of any kind of chair, bench or seat, one small respite to see, and at least for a minute to take a seat Alas there are so many other seekers running on their empty feelers and so, the so far denied desperate measures Finally kick in and with the last ounce of strength, running that final stretch to that one vacant bench And luckily, it was on the shady side, of a solemn kind of a lonely street, just the place no one had yet seen Except now, me, as I reach before yielding to total defeat, of the ever present heat all around, but a respite nevertheless I have found So, it’s ok for a while, taking deep breaths while settling to the calm and now, it will be a long while before I will move again
“The cats are packing again, on the yards, in the streets, even in the cities, heck they are filling up the land as fast as they can! And isn’t that just grand!” Gun Roswell
Cats a packing
The cats of all shapes and sizes, all breads and kinds, started slowly but surely pouring out from each and every woodwork possible. The were numbered at first in tens and hundreds but as they kept on coming, the city soon was filling up, with furry creatures of the types of felines, making their b-lines to the very centre of the city, and soon enough, there was no place to lay your step as each and every single vacant and even non-vacant patch of the land was filled with cats. They are filing up to the trees, as the streets are full. Some of them climbing up the ladders, all the way to the houses roofs. If this was their plan to conquer earth, it was certainly full proof, as there is really nothing the Hoomans can do, to stop this cat riot of sorts of happening. As they are coming in full force and they seem to all be packing. The overwhelming cuteness of it all that is us Hoomans to please and hey, it’s perfectly working as there is no resisting, this over blow in the tiny brains of this so called Human race.
“The waters beckon the weary traveller for a relaxing swim” Gun Roswell
Water front
The calming ocean view with an ever changing hue Is the best place to have a much deserved break After a long days of work, feeling like a drained jerk Then taking a long walk to the alluring waters front Sitting down while waiting for that permanent frown To slowly die down as watching the soft hitting waves Or the sandy beaches make their supposed escape After a while, something odd is happening, a smile! As the brain system quiets down off the effect of wow As this is nature’s healing at best, so forget the rest Nothing can beat this awesome view and calming effect Which only from the great wide outdoors you can get
“The cow on the roof top stood and shouted out a loud “Moo y’all, come on and have a ball!”” Gun Roswell
Moo moo from the roof top!
The black and white large cow stood, up on the highest of roof tops as she just could It was a sign of something new on the rising, as the big bovine towards the horizon Was arising and then, without much of any kind of warning, opened her wide muzzle Because today was not the time for a cure nuzzle, rather a shout out to the group of cattle To come and join her in the heated battle, as today, they were finally getting their way Breaking free of all them shackles, the hooman peoples had forced them on for ever Soon enough the whole large herd of them appeared, their hoofs stomping the ground Giving their moo thanks to the special one on the roof top who had their freedom finally found And then, as per a unified stance, they gave their former keeper one more final glance Before stampeding off to the wide beyond, never to be seen or heard of except in tall tales Sung by the bards when it was safe, as this was one set of cows, nobody wanted to piss off
“Sometimes you just gotta run away and hide” Gun Roswell
Run away on the runway
Some of the days are just so much more, full of those totally fucked up chores, more so, than during those other days, when lazily all day long in the bed you laid, without a worry in the world, as only just then to the moment you were hurled, and that was all the words you needed.
But today is that day, landing on those specific ones, you just really want to pack up and run, as the total sum of fun, lands on the negative, which of course is all subjective, but still, this is my tale of sad, at least a tad, so let me have my sour way, at least, today.
So, with my small bag packed, I left the disarranged shack, leaving it all behind, but I knew if I needed to, where it to find again, but today, was no that day, as today, I was on the run, running away, far far away, or at least as far, as the nearest runway, could take me, because on this day, I need to flee and some other places to see.
“The rose has a name, some name, which I don’t now recall, so a rose by another name I guess” Gun Roswell
The Pink Rose
The thorny side neatly hidden, as it was standing there, tall, fresh and pink, ready for others to get smitten, but the sheer beauty of it all. A perfect one of the lot, and whomever it passes simply has to stop, to admire, to adore, in total awe as there really are no visible flaws. And that fact alone will get the rose, several loud rounds of applause.
But, be warned, do not try to touch or pick the tall pink beauty up. Here is the catch, as you onto its thin and slender body latch, then a prick of the thorny side you will soon catch. Loosing some blood in the process, well, some might say it does not cause any soreness.
But as you leave the pink rose standing there, all tall and gorgeous, you know life after this will be quite different. As you feel the wide bleeding wound this gorgeous pink rose has left in place, which will never be repaired as this flower is for no one to ever keep.
“There is nothing better to do with your day, than hang loose, right?” Gun Roswell
Hanging loose
There is nothing to it, just let it hit, that feeling of total nothingness, when you really could not care less, whether things will get done or not, even if is none too cold or hot. The one simple truth of this day is, that you simply want to, hang loose.
There is nothing wrong with that, even if someone at you spat, that sentence so familiar, you just want to ignore it all. But, the words hit hard nevertheless, “Get off of your lazy ass you bitch!” Well to those I have only one thing to say: “Hang loose!” As this is the best way.
And if this is not the exact play with which you want to stay, then hey, all of you not wanting to simple be lazy, go, get, be crazy, and slay, slay, slay that day. I know you will all be too tired to anything else so, why not try to, hang loose?
Whether it’s Monday or any other day, and it feels like it’s too much in your own skin to stay. Then follow this one rule of thumb. Get yourself something fun to do, like, I don’t know, hang loose?
“There is nothing to a Sunday day except to sit in a very comfy seat” Gun Roswell
A seat tucked away under the stairs
The Sunday arrived without much of a surprise As it was after all, Saturdays inevitable demise Still the one thing which is not that big of a surprise Is the fact, that Sundays are spent without a disguise All masks of efficient are torn off without much effort As the lazy ass is sat on the specially selected seat And that will be done without admitting defeat After all, Sundays are for stalling all the time Always and simple the one day that is totally fine
“There is nothing more invigorating than taking a nice long nap at work” Gun Roswell
Sleeping on the job for Caturday
The shop had been quite busy most of the day, then again, it wasn’t unexpected as it was Saturday, after all, the best selling day of the week. Usually those shoppers at work during the rest of the week, liked to spend their one day of free, looking for that perfect bargain, even if it meant hopping from one establishment to the other. Simply to find that one special treasure of a thing, even if there was no need or even use other than money spend. It was an odd trait of these dwellers of this place, but hey, when in Rome, was the motto, for these bipeds hauling their heavy shopping bags until they started to pant. And even after then, having a moment to exhale, the same rounds continued all day long.
But, it was already late in the afternoon, and the owner cat of the one establishment, had had his share of the hurried atmosphere. After al, it wasn’t easy to keep an eye on them all, as it was the one single job he needed to do, making sure, all was up to par, pulling out the charms, while his keeper did the bidding for the customers. I was amazing how much money they buyers were willing to spend, when this furry feline went purring them to greet. It wasn’t such a big feat for him, as he was a natural crowd pleaser and rarely, did he fail in his particular task, as most hoomans loved him to pat and rub. And when their moods got all better, all the shiny things in the shop turned to desirable treasures, presented to others as treats unmeasured.
So, just another busy Saturday, thought the feline of this establishment. Then, finding a quiet corner, before laying down, for a nap much deserved after patrolling these, stuff filled grounds.
Rantings Of A Third Kind 