Poetry of Everything
“When life gives you lemons, peel one up and eat it like the sourpuss you are, a quick fix huh? ” Gun Roswell
Sour said the fox of the grapes
As it did not like the funky taste
It’s far too hot outside right now
But then again, yesterday it snowed
My face is too ugly for television they said
So why not try getting a job in radio instead
I’m constantly worried of every little thing
But taking a shower makes me wanna sing
When life gives you lemonades
Take them back to the store to exchange
“A seat, not with wheels, but something better, which leads to a rocking motion, soothing and well, perhaps lulling the seated one, to a sleepy existence” Gun Roswell
The old school chair, still has its lure, the oddly shaped legs of it, not really the four excepted, rather reminiscent more of a sleigh, gliding across the floor, but still, remaining where it was laid.
The rocking back and forth, might just seem odd, then again, if the sitter, lets its affects gain control, on the body and perhaps even the soul, then soon enough, a sense of calm will be gained and then, falling asleep somewhat deep or perhaps not, but at least a nap of sorts.
And it will all be thanks, to this rocker of a chair from the past.
“The cats are serious animals, constantly thinking about life around them, that is until they take their very long nap” Gun Roswell
The cat with a curious mind, sat on the side of the small yard, keeping a watchful eye, on the passers by, after all, this time of the day, there was a lot of foot traffic around the immediate area for the cat to slay at least in their minds eye to spy, if nothing else.
Never moving, as it was quite soothing, sitting there, without the need to be some place else, only real thing to do, to contemplate as to the why’s of these Hoomans and their constant hurry, to move somewhere else all the time as this place, at least for the cat was completely fine.
Whatever it was which kept them all moving, back and forth each and every single day, not as much as a decent nap for their weary heads to down lay, the cat still deep in thought, really could not fathom what the point was, making them all just pass and never stopping, not even for a small tap on the head of this furry feline of a softling.
But, whatever it was, the cat deduced it was an internal must for them to forever keep moving, but then feeling bored as this was hardly doing the cat any favours, becoming less and less vigilant, the sounds of birds and insects around them beckoning for a change of pace and so, the cat pounced and started to follow, the smaller creatures instead of the hollow pursuit of the Hoomans, feeling much more satisfied of the change and so, after a while, for a nap the cat laid.
“Something red and gorgeous, as we do deserve it for the upon coming weekend “ Gun Roswell
Happy Friday
To One and All!
If I will
Have my way
You will all
Have a ball!
That’s all
For now at least
Go, have a feast
It’s Friday after all!
“Something about poems just keeps this dabbler going , once, twice a day, yeah, strongly glowing, the words a flowing , the path ahead quite clear.” Gun Roswell
I am a poet
But did not know it
Now I am writing
Lyrics without biting
The bullets
My mind to the fullest
Hammering the keyboard
Not a big chore
No, not anymore
Ever since I started
I cannot be parted
From the blank page
That clean slate
Words pouring
My heart roaring
I feel elevated
Totally animated
Full of excitement
I am completely and utterly
Lost in Poetry
A poem a day keeps the Shrink away!
“Come under my umbrella, there’s plenty of room to chilla” Gun Roswell
Under the umbrella of mine
Life is good and feeling is fine
There is nothing so divine
When beside you to be lying
Under the umbrella of mine
Feeling safe and sound
From the world around
Nothing sad to be found
Under the umbrella of mine
We are living a life sublime
We have nothing but time
And faces filled with smiles
Under the umbrella of mine
Future is still uncertain
But together we are determine
Never to each other be hurting
“They are built to last, out of stone, from the past, carved with pride, for the durance of time“ Gun Roswell
They stand there, partly broken, but somewhat in tact, the materials used for building, had ensured they would last, so that now those of us historically inclined, can stand here and them admire, at least until such time, that they might expire, but the doubt it will happen in our lifetime, or even the next is very high, as most likely, these dwellings, made for living, commerce and even worship, will be there for the foreseeable future, even it them we would no longer nurture. But for now, there is no debate of that, rather the simple fact remains, that we, need them to preserve and make sure of so many more generations to come, this, our history, our legacy, will survive and then we can pat ourselves on the backs of a job well done, and stand there in awe to admire the end result. The beauty of the past, whether a painting, a statue or even a brick, is worth our attention, and so, we do go on admiring and making sure, there will be so much more under our watchful preservation.
“The colours are so cool, but then out of the blue, yellow strikes, yikes?” Gun Roswell
When the breeze hits the lower cools
And most colours, start turning in to blue
And then, you may just, detect
A hint, of that wilder green effect
All surroundings, soon, in a monochromatic state
Calming, soothing, but maybe, even just a tad boring
Then, out of nowhere, a splash of something fresh
When a blotch, then another, suddenly, you detect
It’s of the brightening sun’s effect
That glorious yellow, a simple add-on
But never, quite something, you soon will forget
“The birds are lucky in a way that they can take off, then fly real hight up into the air, leaving this planet or at least the ground far behind.” Gun Roswell
Flying through the air
Without a single care
A beauty with flare
Innocence unaware
Flapping her wings
While the wind sings
Sky feels like spring
A scene well worthy
Of kings
“Something about the colour yellow, that makes you smile, it’s bright, it’s fun, it’s well, yellow! So wake up from that winter slumber and smell the yellow flowers!” Gun Roswell
“Take a little one step, two step, three step
Then a little spin like this”
The spring is almost here
Snow all but disappeared
Dots of yellow sprinkled around
Soon enough, multiple other colours
Will fill the ground
Rantings Of A Third Kind 