“In the past, life was as black and white as that, right? Just check out the ole movies! Not a hint of colour!” Gun Roswell
Snow covering, all of the land
Just like designed and planned
The Winter’s hand
Lays heavily on each strand
Not one inch de-clutched
Not one place untouched
Nature has made its mark
With a white noiseless bark
“Yes, cats do understand poetry quite well, as a matter of fact, those felines be quite the poets and poetic as well! Just, listen to them spell!” Gun Roswell
Cat with various stripes smiles
Patrolling its territory large, no one denies
Afterward, nap time awaits winner
And then, a delicious dinner, with fish
“Look, through the window, look outside, into, the open world wide!” Gun Roswell
Above these fluffiest of clouds, ever so high
Life, all the way so fast, passing me by
On these biggest of wings, on the fly
Looking out, for any and all of the signs
Of maybe, some kind of, extraordinary life
But, for me, here, today, the only thing I can see
Are the endless mountains and maybe, the sea
In the open waters of the far away archipelago
On an barren island, totally for myself, borrowed
The life, is passing by, so utterly and unbelievable slow
The weather constantly changing, from sun to flow
Of so much rain, against all of the open windows
And, without much of anything, really to do
On this forsaken world and in my small bungalow
A suburban afternoon, spent, inside as once again, barred
From the common place of a playground, on the large yard
So, the only pass time for now, is to watch the life, through
My oh so very small and shadowed window, with a view
But, the place, is seemingly at least for today, deserted
As there are simply, no people or any kind of sounds, reverberated
Through the concrete build, of this community, of suburbia
Waiting, once again, same as every day, for the always delayed lift
After a long and really hard (and absolutely shitty) work shift
Feeling bored, and maybe, this is really not the time for any of it
But I am always interested, in any kind of happening, totally hip
So, once again, spending time, watching, through the panoramic windows
As the lift car downwards shifts and I am able to better see the show
Starting on the streets, at this hour of the ever, life so interesting, I go
And join the others there, instead of just standing by the window and stare
“Something so disturbing it’s almost calming when the storm has raged for so long and the calm is finally here, now it’s time to breathe, until the next front comes through” Gun Roswell
After the storm
Everything is calm
Surrounded by silence
When roaming the island
Not a soul in sight
A sole bird in flight
The scent of nature
The intoxicating mixture
Enhanced by rain
Hard to restrain
My rejoicement
“Sometimes it gets darker, much much darker before the light shines through” Gun Roswell
The sky filled with darkness
The cast shadows seem harmless
The calm before the storm
Everything soon to transform
The rain and thunder soon to follow
The earth and skies swallowed
By nature’s display of power
No need to feel sour
Soon the sun will shine again
And the bad weather will be slain
“There is just something about rain, I dunno, but yeah, loving it!” Gun Roswell
The rain banging against my window in the middle of the night, well it’s morning, but I’m not really counting, cause the loud clanging kept me from my beauty sleep, not that it was really ever that deep, just the same, I would like it to blame, for the lack of my extension span, being quite low, in the early hours of the day, as starting with little of now sleep a day, surely a permascowl plastered now and there to stay, for the duration at least, but the I see, the tiny droplets gathered onto the leaves of the flowers I had bought cheap, and an involuntary smile creeps up towards my cheeks and ain’t that just creepy, but I like it just the same and the rain apparently is to blame!
“Ships passing in the distance, the weather grey and dull, as is the sea, no complaints though, sitting here observing life passing by, and waiting for the sun to shine” Gun Roswell
I still remember
That one September
The bluest of skies
And it was warmer than July
The water clear and inviting
The air soft and delighting
Not a worry in sight
Everything quite right
In the distance
For an instance
A boat or two
Disappearing from the view
Most tourists already gone
Leaving us alone
Enjoying in peace
With a short lease
The last rays of summer
“Just two ships passing each other by, in the very ocean wide” Gun Roswell
It was a calm and hazy early morning, as the two ships emerged without a warning, passing each other close by, as it was planned, but only on the fly. Sailing in from the opposite direction of one and other, only meeting in the middle of the inter section, they hardly had time to meet or even give a proper greet. As simply floating by the other, never touching, only glancing once, maybe twice. But there really was no time to say anything else let alone something nice to the other, as the flow kept on going and there really was no stopping it. A well known fact for both, as they knew that despite their slow motion, it was inevitable for the two of them to meet. But, there was nothing more of an option for them, except this on fleeting moment in time, seeing each other for the first and also last time, as the two slow boats, were just passing each other by, and maybe that was enough, and both of them could be just fine after the chance encounter, perhaps by design.
“Sometimes, life might seem like a dream, while more often times, it just turns out to be, a nightmare, so prepare to – scream!” Gun Roswell
Row, row, row your wee puff-puff boat,
Gently down the narrow yet calm stream
Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily,
Life, yeah that ole thing,
Might just be, but some kind of a dream!
Well, unless you wake up
But better just continue paddling just the same
As this might just all be, quite real!
“Something glowing up there in the skies, something, golden I spy, could it be…???” Gun Roswell
The windows reflecting the light
As the afternoon’s sun is still bright
Colouring all the surfaces with gold hue
Completely irradiating the feeling of blue
A lyrical moment for the mundane grey
The feeling of dull quickly fading away
As the tall towers and the low windows
Make us believe in fairy tales and wonders
Our city now the golden one
Before the illusion comes undone
And we are back to the mundane vision
Of dull surfaces needing revision
Rantings Of A Third Kind 