“Coffee, one large cup, please” Gun Roswell
Coffee makes the world go around
Coffee turns the world
When on its axel it is hurled
Dark fine liquid in it’s veins
The oceans and lands stains
Coffee makes the world
Sustaining its living herds
Life as we know it turns
Each day because of this miracle cure
Coffee is the world
Life each day due to it churns
Every single thing it’s praise sings
And peace on earth with every cup brings
“Arriving at the dead end” Gun Roswell
Dead end
Finally reaching the dreaded end
This will be the place I take my stand
Or then, it will be my own dead, at the end
Making my stance
My weapons drawn
No time to think or talk
The enemy’s approaching
The was no time for backing
Down, I had reached the impasse
Guns a blazing, I am moving in
Firing as fast as I can, no matter if the bullets land
I am in for the win, maybe this is a sin
Smoke and fire, how did I get into this dire
The only thing that matters now, is win or loose, and how
My weapon jams, my bullets are spent
All I see is smoke, but I am hell bent
Charging the opponent, I will not let
Anything rule my life, gotta get out of this strife
Fists punching, mouth biting
I am finally, doing all the fighting
When the smoke clears, I can see it very clear
A mirror in front of me
Staring, an image so familiar to me
My own face, busted
Staring back at me from the mirror rusted
A battle has been done, and it was certainly no fun
The only winner and looser
Am I
“And now, time for something completely different” Gun Roswell
Something different
Getting away, from my solitary comfort zone
Feeling the tingling sensation, in each and every bone
I wish I had eaten, that damned scone
Because no I am hungrier, than a queen on her thrown
Something different for today, was on the agenda
But, as hard a I tried, I could not seem to be able to bring back the referenda
Trying hard is easy, they said
But now I’m wishing, I really would get paid
Alas, working for free, is the curse of this writer wannabe
Some might say, I am the ultimate dummy
But, why would anyone one pay for what you can get for free
Even if the charge was just a nominal fee
So, something new an spectacular this ain’t gonna be,
I may be, some kind of scribbler, you see
But tending into my old patterns to hold on
Writing each passage till I am done
You say, I am boring and nothing is good or any fun
It might as well be the Enterprise’s phasers on stun
My advice then is; stop reading my stuff, don’t huff, rather write your own stuff
Then I’ll be the one scolding, the things before me unfolding
“Am I really a writer? Or simply a pretender?” Gun Roswell
Writing is, hard?
When life sucks
But onward you must
Writing, your only outlet
This is as good, as it gets
Trying to type, not hesitate
But only staring, at a blank slate
Why oh why, did I start so late
Why must each decision require a debate
Life is hard, writing is really hard
But it’s been said, out of hardship you become smart
By now, after all, I should be a genius
So why do I feel like so much less
Am I a writer
Am I a fighter
Sometimes, I am neither
Today, I just sit and stare
Alas
Writing is a piece of cake
Have tiny slice at first, a chapter of the slate
Then another bite, see there was no smite
Now the second verse, goes just like rehearsed
Before you know it
You have a lot to show for it
An empty plate
But a filled up slate
“Always waiting for a bus” Gun Roswell
Empty (Haiku) (Seat Sunday)
Seats available at the station
Waiting for the bus for a trip
A vacation before next Monday
“All command functions are off-line, which usually happens during most days”Gun Roswell
My command functions are off-line
It is, thirty one degrees
Sunshine as far as the eye can see
Hot in the house, hot out side
Contemplating on the dilemma divide
It is summer and July
Should I stay indoors or go outside
Sitting slack by the air cooler divine
And if I don’t move, I am feeling just fine
Alas, it is summer, the time of fun, outside in the warming sun
But, once trying to feel the air with a pinky
Opening the door, the heatwave hits me
Why this is unnatural and does not fit me
There is no way for a northerner to survive
In that weather of plus degrees, remaining alive
When we were built more suited for the opposite scale
And in minus thirty degrees prevail
Slouching in my chair, without any thought or care
I really though it was best to share
Before falling into complete despair
And soon, all my command functions are gone totally offline
“A small walk through hell? Keep going!” Gun Roswell
Rough terrain
Walking until the soles of my shoes are gone
Then I will continue, until my bare feet are sore
Despite this rough terrain, it’s really all the same
Sand, rocks, even water, it will all end in a burner
So why do I keep on moving forward then
When there would be much better ways my time to spend
Lazy days on a hammock in the cool shades
Sipping drinks and eating food someone just for me waited
Call it human nature, or just some sort of internal hatred
The have to attitude, without too much platitude
Going on, even if feeling is none too strong
It must be some kind of madness, or maybe, just sadness
Until this all is getting more clear to me
I will just keep going, for you see, it’s so simple and easy
I can always by a new pair of shoes, and start singing the blues
Rough terrain, it may be the same, but I’ve no one to blame
“A pile of something” Gun Roswell
Rocky (Haiku)
Stones in a neat pile
Man made object or work of art
Only nature is that smart
“Don’t you wish you could live inside of a dream, at least, sometimes?” Gun Roswell
Life is but a Dream
Each night, running away from daily plight
Sitting in my designated spot, trying, not to think, a lot
Watching, my few favourite shows, again, again and again
Seems time a wasted, as in front of the tv only spent
Alas, this is my kind of a drug, trying all, that bothers me away shrug
In my dreams, filled with scenes
From real life and beyond, but this is my way of staying strong
Hoping, sooner not later, living the life instead of catering
Fantasies, unreal things, dreaming of when to sing
Alas for now, life, is but a dream
At least, that is the case for me
“Little miss perfect? A total ray of sunshine? Oh really? Oh well, guess I should not be surprised?” Gun Roswell
Little Miss Perfect
I am the one and only
Little Miss Perfect
Everything I do, is perfect
All of me, you see, is perfect
Everyone thinks, I am perfect
So why, do I, feel such a fool
Used, like an old rusted tool
Life really, had me schooled
So why do I act so cruel
I was taught, to be superior
Never sinking, to the level of inferiors
My house, has a great interior
And everyone, admires my exterior
My happy thoughts
May be store bought
But enjoyment they brought
To all reading my blog
I am, the one and only
Little Miss Perfect
I am the perfect product
The perfect product for your use
Use the perfect product, but never abuse
Rantings Of A Third Kind 