“The cat’s come in all colours, even black and white!” Gun Roswell
Cat in black and white
The cat in white
With tiny black stripes
Sat perfectly still
And watched the passers by
It had no rush to leave
As it was waiting for the eve
When all the fishing boats
Would finally sail back to shore
And then to get her reward
After watching the spot
For all day long
Where the boats would dock
And that was her job
After all
She was a cat
With in white and black
“No one, is an island, they say, but I would sure want to be alone, on an island!” Gun Roswell
Life, Island Style
When life on the shores gets too much
Since all you want to do is huff
Nothing soothes you,
Not even your favourite stuff
You simply want to get out of touch
Even the seas all might and rough
Will not deter your solution of love
Love of the life on the Island
When the days are still long
You need to stay so strong
The only thing keeping you going
Are the thoughts and images slowing
Down the pressure always growing
But then you remember again
The love of the life of the Island
Once you get there
Out in the open square
The sea and salty air
Bringing you out of all that despair
Because this, is simply the place
Where you and the seagulls stay
Here, is the love, and, the Island
And this, this is my land
“Tall and statuesque, the building made of glass and steel, the skies pierce with shear will”
Gun Roswell
Architecture in Monochrome
The greater beauty of the tall high rise
Is when something from the corner of an eye spies
The reflections from the higher skies
The mere stunning light of the sun shine
The colours may have faded
Into a few black and white shades
Some would even call it grey
But the impact remains the same
The tall buildings built in the present
Having the most of the times essence
Looking up in awe in feeble human existence
Standing before us all, without pretense
The modern marvels in monochromatic view
Never disappointing, never leaving in blues
Piercing the skies, this tall high rise
It has a face and a photogenic smile
“Life simple and quiet in the midst of winter, nothing moves or stirs, not even a splinter” Gun Roswell
Still Life in Winter
When the cold hits the air
And the tree branches are simply bare
The ground is the solid colour of grey or white
And all the effort has left the fight
You simply give in to the mood
To the calmness of the winter’s groove
Enjoying the monochromatic presence
Which has become, the current existence
But it’s all so very fine
Since this is a very special time
The winter, like any other season won’t long last
And soon enough, another kind of blast
Will fill the bodies and soul
Of us mere wondering fools
“The roses are always pretty, not matter what colour you may choose” Gun Roswell
Rose and the Monochrome
The rose is the prettiest of the flowers that be
At least, that is what I have internally agreed
No matter what colour of this pretty creation I choose
Because I know, with the scent and looks, I can never loose
But when you tune it down to the basics without resistance
Peel away all the conventional layers, leaving only the greys
With that, ending up with a cool and calm monochromatic existence
The outlook now even more picturesque
Still the vibrance of the flower makes its presence
Maybe even more so, in this monotonic look
At least the paints a picture, worthy of a cover of a book
“Even in a black and white world, you can still find windows and doors, leading to another world” Gun Roswell
Doors and the Monochrome
The mystical hatches will open up to
Another world, a realm of magic and few
Other things you may not realize you
Needed, but always in secret, wished
For, and now into the this place whisked
You’ll never have to wonder anymore
What kinds of great things life has in store
For you, now that you reached the door
Open it, take a peek inside,
Look, listen, of what you can find
Once you let that imagination go wild
There is nothing better than that in life
Or at least in this magical realm
If you succeed long enough to delve
Then this is the place for you, forever
“On Mondays, you just want to go totally grey and reflect on the good days of the weekend”
Gun Roswell
Monochromatic Monday Reflected
When the working week beckons
It it that time you need to reckon
Whether to treat the upon coming days as friend
Or go through them one by one like they were a foe
Riding up the glass covered lift car
Is a really good place to start
Thinking whether Mondays really are that bad
Or is it a learnt mental state to be sad
On this one day when everything starts a new
Maybe there are days of bad ahead just a few
And the rest of the week is just fine
Until that much awaited time
When Friday raises its promising head
Indicating of a carefree weekend, ahead!
“See the world in monochromatic colours, all the greys you can imagine” Gun Roswell
Colours in Black and White
When the world gets much too bright
The colours so totally lush and vibrant
You only want to tone it down ever so slightly
And what remains,
Is all in total blacks and whites
But never forget those shady greys
Which all them scenerys may stain
But there is something gorgeous in the shadows
Where the monochromatic themselves allow
To be as colourful as they may
There is colour all around
From the skies to the lowest ground
They may all be all in black and white
But just the same,
They give you the chills and smiles
“The feeling of totally calming greys, when the world seems too colorful, that is monochromatic!” Gun Roswell
Grey in monochrome
When the world seems to bright
The senses overwhelming with light
Colorful vistas everywhere where you look
Wishing to dangle off of this stimulating hook
Escaping into the architectural indoors
May turn out to be an even bigger chore
The internal and bright decors
From the highest ceilings to the lowest floors
Then a thought by some sort of surprise occurs
Maybe, these colours would somewhat less hurt
If toning them down in to the very basic of things
Yes, that really could work and cause a spin
Around for some hundred and eighty degrees
Turning down the volume of all the things seen
To a nice and soothing less freaking up scale
As the monochromatic then lifts up its gorgeous vail
Ah, this is so much better with lesser pain
As schemes with only certain elements tickles the brain
Colours are always nice and dandy
But sometimes the fewer shades, fading to greys, are more handy
“Riding on the monochromatic streets, on these, two wheels” Gun Roswell
Monochromatic Ride
On a highly tuned, yet very vintage looking bike,
Down the lonely, colourless, black and white streets, I ride
The cold winds, on my battered, wrinkled old face,
But that’s no matter, ’cause I am certainly not, *that* stained
And I definitely not, a person, whom in just, the one place stays
Not at least, for that long
Even if there would be, any sense of “to belong”
As I slowly, and intently, pass by the onlookers, they are watching me ride
And yes, that is really just so fine
For I am really not got nothing to hide
But heck, I may even break up in a big smile
Rantings Of A Third Kind 