Control, really is, an illusion

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“The illusion of control, huh? How funny is that?” Gun Roswell

Control, really is, an illusion

I am in total control of everything and all surrounding me
As you, can clearly see, this illusion of control is a perfectly built delusion
Which I am keeping up all day and all night
Never, ever even considering, giving up the fight

As I have managed myself to convince
Of this, state of being, in control, that it really exists
I am now in the process of turning other over
To my perfect side, of this, perfect place of order

But the more and more I try to keep the mode on
Of being the one, with everything and anything under my thumb
I feel the drain, even to the point, it starts to stain
My poor face, my hair, even my body, all going down the drain

And then, as I slowly realize, that being int total control is agonizing
Really is something of an imaginative thing, a hoax
Invented by some marketing people after some bad smokes
And then, I give up, saying I am a mess, and there is only chaos around me
And guess what, you are all in it too!

Shade

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“Ain’t nothing wrong with some shade” Gun Roswell

Shade

Ain’t nothing wrong in being shady
Ain’t nothing wrong in staying in the shade
Ain’t nothing wrong in letting the shade in
Ain’t’ nothing wrong admitting to shade

Being inside the grayish shade
Might make you feel all cool and great
But remember to follow the rules of the shade
As they might let you avoid of becoming a fool of a big grade

So.
If you are determined of being shady
If you are prepared for always laying in the shade
If you are living your life in the gray side
If you are always right with your shade
Just do it!

Versus I one

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“From the busy streets, towards the calm beach, that is the goal in life” Gun Roswell

Versus

Busy

Busy, and too loud, are the streets I now walk
There is so much noise, I cannot her anyone nor myself talk
As I move forward, a lot of unhappy people I stalk
Sometimes just to the nature of things I this chalk

But then I start to dream, as I continue still with much steam
My face lights up, almost see the gleam, as it beams
When a blurry vision, almost seeing the image, of place without scrimmage
As it appears to my mind, but it seems so hard to focus, before I have crossed the line

Just then, I see it, I can feel it, grasp it
Then something happens, shit!
I start running, ever faster, chasing the shadow
What is it? A green meadow?

To be continued

Shadow and Light

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“More fun in the shadow, right?” Gun Roswell

Shadow and Light

What things lurk in the shadows rim
Evil or good, why don’t you go and take a look
Maybe you will like what you find
Maybe, there is something so fine
Or maybe, even something divine
It will make you want to live there for good
Even though you know, you really not should
The temptations whispered into your ear
As you enter the darkness without fear
Deep down you know it is so wrong
But you are determined and think you are that strong
Resisting the urge to stay
As you only come along for a short play
After a while, there is no more time
And maybe you feel just fine
Soon forgetting there ever was a light
But the nagging feeling, gives you fright
Starting a struggle to get away
But the light, is only on a small display
Nothing more than a tiny dot
As you remain sitting there, in your darkened spot

Harbour

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“It’s calm today, in the summer day” Gun Roswell

Harbour

A slow boat awaits me, finally setting me free
Boarding, without a haze, as at the quiet waters, I gaze
Destination, unknown, as from this place, I have overgrown
Walking to my seat, looking forward to the breeze
As the sails are hoisted, I am second guessing my choices
Alas, they soon fade, as I settle in to the laze
Of becoming the passenger, on this journey ahead
Eyes wide open, I stare at the great ocean
Not knowing, is the hardest part, but if I play it smart
What ever the future, I think I can make without any sutures
Face in a smile, shedding the vile, yes, it has been a while
I am finally feeling, happy

The Dancer

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“A private dance? Surely not!” Gun Roswell

 

The Dancer

Dressed in bright red, with shining shoes to match
The music loud, the rhythm up beat, onto the dance floor, she’ll latch
The the sound waves catching her body, tapping her toes
She is in the zone now, nothing, down her ever slows

Dancing, prancing, even singing, sometimes, the audiences romancing
She is the star of her own show, fully emerged in her own flow
Living in her own little world, where only her voice can be heard
And then, the music stops, the dancer, in her steps flop
Looking around, the empty floor only her surrounds
Settling back, into reality, but only until, she hears the music, and then, she is back in her fantasy

Somewhere else

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“I am not from here, I am from somewhere else” Gun Roswell

Somewhere else

When a stranger asks me, where are you from?
How can I respond to that, without feeling dumb?

I am certainly not from here,
Not from this blue glowing sphere
I am originally from somewhere else
Just watch me, there are tells

Telling the stranger, I arrived here by ship
Some time ago, when it landed on the cliff

That is crazy talk some might say
But I don’t care as I am not here to stay
Just going on about my life as usual
Since it is as is, quite acceptable

What comes to my adopted friends and family
They don’t really care whether I come from here or from another galaxy

If There is a Wrong Place and a Wrong Time: I’ll be There (TBT)

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“Not fitting in just means you’re in the wrong place”

If-there-is-a-wrong-place-and-a-wrong-time-I-ll-be

If There is a Wrong Place and a Wrong Time, I’ll be There

A sale of shoes
Small sizes only
feeling bold
Into the men’s section
I wandered
No time to loose
A nice pair of boots
Fitting like a glove
I am in love
A passer by
Asks me to pose
For a picture
To be a feature
In the paper

In my raggedy jeans
Crashing a party
Of the cocktail kind
A piece of a pie
Instructing all to jive
I was an
Overnight sensation
Even without
The proper presentation
Dancing the night away
With a hip and a sway

In my way to a show
My face in a glow
Hoping premium seats to score
Then a let down
All sold out
Feeling like clown
My face in a frown
Life is a bore

Sitting in the entry way
Sobbing
‘Hey lady’ I hear
Can you sing?
In my mind a ding
My heart is throbbing
Without remorse
I join the chorus
Singing my heart out
Without a doubt
The best night
Of my entire life
Despite the lack
Of several facts
I can’t dance, act or even sing

Late night, Late rise

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“Sometimes you just need to catch up with sleep” Gun Roswell

Late night, Late rise

Slipping into bed in the early morning hours
Before the others awaken and get their showers
A late night spent without much remorse
Never been too good in keeping scores
But the following day
Totally may slip away
Waking up in the late afternoon
Thinking darkness came too soon
Just in time for the setting sun in sight
The skies slowly turning towards the night
Time once again wasted
I should have stayed in bed instead
How not to worry too much about it all
Since i really cannot time stall?
Decision then to sleep until the next day
And get a clean slate without pay

Tuesdays keep on coming

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“It’s another day of the week, naturally!” Gun Roswell

Tuesdays keep on coming

The days come along one by one (usually the way they do)
It’s almost like singing a song (verse by verse moving along)
Today it’s Tuesday, when only yesterday it was Sunday (that’s how I recall it)
And now, it’s getting late, no matter how I hesitate, tomorrow will be here, I can feel it near (What do you know: It’s Wednesday and midweek, what a geek!)

Guess I need to stop worrying about Mondays anyway (Oh, did you worry before? Did not know that…)
Since the days keep on changing without my aid (Yeah, need a time machine for that!)
Why worry about some day, when there is always the next day (True, do like the Spanish do, manana!)
So, on this day of …ahem, Tuesday, I swear, not to worry about another damned day!!! (Liar! You know this promise or what ever is as good as the up and down going fever! You will never keep it, trust me, I know shit!)

Bring it on Tuesday, Wednesday and even Friday (Don’t forget Monday and something else!)
Every day, from this day on is my day (note to writer, how many times can you get away with the word “day”?)
I will start appreciating the here and now (Yeah, really! Like to see that)
And then, if not, nobody have a cow! (We already did! It’s there in the backyard!)