Poetry of Everything
A throne is only a bench covered with velvet”
Napoleon Bonaparte
A Seat at the Railway Museum
While doing historic exploration
Looking at the human creation
Ending up, on an old railway station
Abandoned, by a foolish nation
But built as a lasting location
A railway museum for the duration
Take a seat and join the celebration
Cats and, Dogs
Cats and, Dogs
Put them in a box
What secrets untold
Before you unfold
When the box is opened
Only keep hoping
There is no other agenda
Are they friends or enemies
Or just plain frenemies
That is the age old dilemma
Of Cats with Dogs
“To put it rather bluntly, I am not the type who wants to go back to the land; I am the type who wants to go back to the hotel” Fran Lebowitz
Out there, into the Wilderness
Urban nature
What a wild creature
Concrete, asphalt
Dog poop on the sidewalk
Grass may look green
But everyone has seen
It was spray painted
To keep it untainted
And just as a feature
Nothing quite like
The smell of petroleum
In the early morning
When riding that bike
Or taking a hike
Though fair warning
Try to avoid stepping
Onto the tossed wrapping
Made of aluminium
Reaching the heavy trafficked streets
Listening to the musical feats
Of the car horn section on the right
The jackhammers creating the beats
People shouting in chorus
Day feeling more bright
Like your name was Doris
Crossing the street at red light
Just for fun not out of spite
Come late evening
Walking through the darkened park
The streetlights broken
Someone a lurking
Deep in the bushes
Not at sea, so at least no sharks
Your pace fastening
Trying to be cunning
Then almost running
Finally arriving
To the safe haven
Entering the doorway
You realize you’re not in Norway
From the lack of pine trees
Rather the sweet smell of pee
Greeting you, making you sneeze
Not the perfume of choice
But it could be worse?
“I thought this place was more old school, but it’s actually quite modern, at least in someways” Gun Roswell
Wandering around in Tallinn
Narrow alleyways
And painted windows
The old town is full of
Perfect hideaways
A church from the past
Should be quite the blast
It was built to last
Alas
It may be run down
But hey, this is the old town!
Driving a Lada car
Will probably not get you very far
But most likely
To the nearest bar
Where you are always, the star!
If you wish to travel far and fast, travel light. Take off all your envies, jealousies, unforgiveness, selfishness and fears” Cesare Pavese
Helsinki Sea view Panorama
The city, with a view of a wide panorama
The display, fully, filled with so much drama
Well, at least, in the words of this poetry to write
Just look at it! Then there will be no argument or fight!
“Helsinki isn’t all that bad. It’s a very nice city, and it’s cold really only in wintertime” Linus Torvalds
At the Market Square in the city centre of Helsinki
The non stop hustle and bustle
The eternal use of the rustle
All them waiting customers
Lurking about, during this, summer
The well known Market Square
The biggest one yet I do swear
On this side, of the town
Some say even, the jewel of the crown
Bursting with all kinds of life
Peacefully, without any kind of strife
Roaming all of them stands
Even if you are not a great fan
But still, you may enjoy the ambiance
So come on down, and do, take a chance
“So, we meet again! My dearest, not! Monday! Why can’t you be gone already?” Gun Roswell
Monochrome Monday
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
“These times, make me so tired” Gun Roswell
Tired
It’s so hard to get up
I try to resist the huff and puff
Looking out the window, wishing I wasn’t here
Rather someplace nice, over there
Even on this silent Sunday
I know this is not my day
For I am feeling sick and tired
Not creative or even inspired
The same ol same ol awaits
Doing all the things I love to hate
The only cheer for me the pictures
From a happier time far in the past
I know deep inside this feeling won’t luckily last
But dwelling on it for a moment I gasp
And then after a few passing hours
I get up, and once again, somehow, feel within, the lost power
And, yeah baby, I’m back again
As the cliche strikes and then I smile
It’s been a long while
But for now, that’ll do just fine
“Cats are the best, soft and fluffy and… completely ignoring you!” Gun Roswell
Striped Feline
Striped feline
Or a soft purring ball
How easy to unwind
Soon to a sleep fall
Hypnotized
By those wide eyes
The limber steps
Command respect
You can never own them
Just borrow for a while
But rest assured, the little gems
Will leave you in big smiles
“Travelling can be such fun, unless it’s not” Gun Roswell
Gone a Fishing
When the sign says, “Gone fishing”
That means all the bells and whistles that usually ring
Have completely silenced for the afternoon
And the boat is way, way out there in the lagoon
Don’t try to call me on my mobile phone
Do not tempt me with a sweet or a scone
I am completely out of it all for a while
And no matter who says what, I’m doing it in style
Fishing, fishing, ain’t catching a damn thing
But I am singing, grinning and clinging
Onto a hope, for catching a big fish to sell
Or at least, the tallest of tales to everyone to tell
