Sky, water and horizon
Even the distant island
Cannot resist the moment
The moment of blue
Blue is the Moment
Category Archives: Poetry
Poetry of Everything
A bench to sit on high up
I was looking for
A bench to sit on
What I hoped to score
Something close to a lawn
To lay my tired self
On a softer shelf
Then I saw it
The bench, made of stone
When I tried to sit
I felt it to my bones
Too hard for a fit!
Moving forward
I found one, made of wood
Maybe it wasn’t hard
Rather suitably good
Too soft for a fit!
So once again
I had to complain
But I knew, the right seat
Was just in reach
I just had to seek
A little while longer
As I moved along
The feeling now stronger
I knew it wouldn’t be long
I was close to finding
As I saw the metal shining
I finally found it
A bench made of metal
For me to sit
Soft as a petal
A purr-fect fit
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A cat’s spot
“The cats always choose their places in those spaces given to them, and then it will be their spot and no one else’s” Gun Roswell
The cat in a chair sat, just because it was apt to do so
For hours on end, would they time on the chair spend
Watching and observing all those passing by, like a spy
Perhaps true, and maybe even part of some conspiracy
A plot device sent out here to destroy the human kind?
Well, what ever the cat’s purpose might just be
It was not clear to those passing as usually
A loud purr could be heard from the very source
As those who dared to pet the sitting cat on the spot
Were soon rewarded with an affectionate nod
So, whatever you might think of this very cat
Choosing their very own place in this space we share
The street, the neighbourhood, the planet fair
Perhaps even an alien invader but, then again
Who could easily resist a soft purr and a fluffy figure?
Next time, when getting all around in the hood
Keep an eye open for that one cat you should
As befriending them might just be the best thing
Even if it was just an ordinary common place being
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Sitting on the Old Town benches
“Because it’s a bench”
Sit down
Have a rest
In the old town
No need for stress
The history
Of this city
In one glance
Fall into a trance
Close your eyes
Let the millenia
Take you down
The memory lane
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Vibes
“Sometimes, it’s good to just sit down, take a breather, lift your feet up and simply, exists” Gun Roswell
Another boring working week, finally, in the box
Despite, having planned, quite a lot
But barely doing, the minimum required
Even if, I had some complements acquired
But, today, is that one day, I usually root for
Yes, Friday eve, is finally, knocking at the door!
So, it is time to hang up the keyboard
And pick up a completely new chord
Because this time, is my own special time
Either spent binge watching my favourite shows
Or then, going down the memory lane flow
Meaning mostly, digging up old pictures
Of those rare and few memorable fixtures
Where time was spent in a more favourable place
Where seemingly nothing changes and time still stands
Alas, I am talking about the summer, or rather those few days
Where the sun and the sea, were totally in sync
Showing all kinds of blues off the waves blink
Sitting by that seashore, without any kinds of chores
Well, those days are certainly missed
Now that the darkness slowly starts to piss
On this otherwise solemn and organised daily bliss
But hey, it’s the weekend, so, no more wallowing spent
On the old memories of summer days gone by
Because we all know, time flies
No matter if you are having fun or not
Or even if it is really cold or painfully hot
Enjoy the day, no matter what
Friday, or hey, even a damned Monday
Those can all be, some kind of fund days
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Sunset extraordinary
Reflecting surfaces
Free of disturbance
Shadows on the walls
Where ever light falls
Red as the colour
Always a stunner
Up in the tower
Feeling empowered
Staring at the horizon
Evermore surprising
The setting of the sun
Was a true home run
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Birds
“They’re just there doing their thing, frolicking in the tall winds, catching fish from the seas, our feathered friends, the dinosaurs of today” Gun Roswell
Our feathered friends
The windy air bend
Flying to the world’s end
For their leisure time to spend
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Last of August
“It’s the very last day, officially, of Summer, the month ending, summer ending, nature, going to sleep, and soon enough, the snow will be landing, so go, get out there, take a breather amongst the colours of Summer!” Gun Roswell
Roaming around the Hood
Because the weather was really good
Clouds floating in the blue sky
Wishing if only I could fly
The sun warm on my skin
Melting the coldest of Finns
Colours burning bright
Ideas taking flight
Snap, click, snap, click
Hoping to score some great pics
So here they are
I didn’t walk too far
But still got a great bunch
In a time it takes to have lunch
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End of August
“The nature soon going to sleep, the August ending, the Summer ending, enjoy it while it’s still alive and well!” Gun Roswell
The last warm days
Before the cold rains
It is time to prepare
But do not despair
Summer may be ending
The nature surely changing
Soon it will be autumn
But the colours
Will be awesome
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The moon is monochrome
“The night or the day, no matter which way you decide to cypher it, the moon is out there, hanging above even if somewhat dimly lit“ Gun Roswell
The moon was out, hanging above in the clear blue sky, nothing there to spy, not really, but it could have as easily have been in the middle of the night, as the light, was so dim.
Either because of the timing, being that of summer, the day never ending, and so day or night, all the same, as the sun and moon together keeps on spinning.
Or then, it was the day of a ver dark and dreary autumn month, the shades blurring in together, to each other, the shadow, the light, all the grey shades of neither and then both, the monochrome, the noir, all of it one simple colour.
Whatever it is you see up there with your own bare eyes, is the truth, whether the sky is blue, or pitch black dark, the moon is always there, looking mighty smart.
