It is Friday again

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TGIF!?!” Gun Roswell 

Just, as the night gave away to the awakening sun

I looked at the clock, which was a quarter to none

The long awaited day had finally arrived

Now, it was time for the first weekend jive!


Jumping up, from the bed, without much thought running ahead 

Towards the nearest field, not one thread my naked body shield 

Celebrations starting, as others start to arrive 

Soon, we are all joined in the ceremonial dance of jive


Dancing, singing, until everyone’s ears are ringing 

This is the spirit created by this day with hopes on habit clinging 

Forever or at least for a day

Thank Goddess it’s Friday never leave us but always stay!

A can of worms and other creepy crawlers

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“Do not open! You have been warned, haven’t you!” Gun Roswell

If you dare to open the lid

Be prepared tackle a ton of shit

A Pandora’s box uncovered

May be hard to be conquered

Worms and creepy crawlers

Might be the least of your worries

When a curious stunt in a hurry

End up in lots of sorries 

If you manage to close the lid 

Make sure it is wound tight and sticks

Hide the can in a safe place

Possibly in outer space

Don’t ever look back and for it

Just remember the nightmares 

And all the bad things which hit

Move away move forward move far

For you were lucky this time

Getting away only, with a big scar

Laundry Day Today (Haiku)

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“We are airing our clean laundry out in the public today – surprise?” Gun Roswell

Today, clean and odour free

Pants, shirts and underwear I do share

With the whole family, outside

Keep out (haiku)

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“Trespassers not welcome” Gun Roswell

A heavenly garden beckoned strangers

A welcome sign at the gateway abrupt

All trespassers will be shot

Today nothing special 

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“Way too ‘blah’ to move” Gun Roswell

Today like another day, you see

Nothing special happened 

The weather got the best of me

Siting in my chair, feeling crappy


It doesn’t matter if it rains or snows

Even if the cold wind blows

I always find my excuses

Those are better than being a looser


Doing nothing is an art form

If you lazy about without getting scorned

Find what ever reason 

Hell that is hardly treason

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