Reflections in a Coffee Cup

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“A finger, a hand, a face, an attitude, a day, a year, a whole life even, reflected from a single cup of coffee“ Gun Roswell

Reflections in a Coffee Cup

The cup of coffee poured, sitting in front of the drinker

As this one was, according to some, a real thinker

Life, death, life, coffee, things that nature, always on their mind

Pondering all the possible things, without trying to be unkind

As this way of living, was rather an antisocial one

But then again, without great thinkers, lots of things would remain undone

And so, trying to forgive the one deep in thought

While sipping from their very coffee cup 

As plenty of new ideas, inventions and such

Were thought of, while simply taking the time off

And letting the mind fill with ideas of plenty

And the coffee would then take care of the need of the belly

Simple as that, was this one of a kind magical drink

As really, the human race needed it for those who would dare to, think

Red Sun

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“The early morning sun, well, put your eyes on a setting of stun, because it’s going to be, quite red!“ Gun Roswell

Red Sun

It looked like it was on fire, the burning hot ball of lava, alas this was no such thing, rather an extraordinary rise of the very sun it self, something in the colour of burning hot fire-engine red.

The spectacular vision not for the timid though, as this is no simple show, taking a lengthy number of seconds ticking by, and if your eyes are able to spy, never directly into it looking though, something mystical and magical you will experience.

As only once in a life time, can you see the red  hot rising sun.

One more, for the road, please

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“The coffee cup spilleth over, always” Gun Roswell 

One more, for the road, please

The time for coffee, is right now,

Just and enough before a total frown

The elixir giving the strength to carry on

To face all those obstacles thrown

On the path when the day starts

When all and everything smarts

But, when the maker of the liquid starts

The smallest hint of a smile

Emerges

And after that, the cloak of invincibility appears 

And so without any fear

With the coffee mug in hand

There is nothing and no one this one

Cannot to against stand!

Mini Mes

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“The smaller the better, right? The mini versions of a lot of stuff, cannot get enough? Well, just a reminder, never remove from box, keep them in mint condition, am I right? Then again, it’s your decision, whether you chose to play with them or not!” Gun Roswell

Mini Mes

The collectables as they are all called, the smaller versions of any kind of life size thingy, imaginary or real, just the same, they make you feel, better somehow,  even singing a tune just because you finally got one, becoming the owner a little piece, no matter how small, from something bigger and better out there for the world for everyone to see.

Those trinkets filling up all our shelves (buying more from ikea just in case) even at the seasonal holidays, where we might just get a few of them elves into the mix, alas getting even a miniature version of whatever tickles the fancy, fandom or just because admiring a great sculpture, perhaps a fashionable car or a pair of boots, whatever it is you are into, you can lay claim in the form of a mini me.

Life, is a recycle

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“The cycle of life, birth, living, death, a few the smiles, the eternal strife, it’s all simply, a form of things being recycled, am I right?” Gun Roswell

Life, is a recycle

They say all the intellectual properties have all already been done, by the selected few masters, perhaps in the very past, but maybe something new maybe there also and then retweeted by the masses.

Whether it is a simple repost of someone stating something great or even cheering for hate, there are those reposting, everything. Recycling every single word and picture found out there, on the world wide web.

It might be even someone you idolise, having said or done something clever, like your neighbours cat or Baby Yoda, whomever… But the internet of things, where we so much time spend is basically just that, recycling everything and anything.

The same can be said for life.

Whether it is poor choices or old memories, reliving those special and not so special events. Or then simply going through the daily grind, the supposed life.

It’s all the same really, just think about it: Sleep, eat, rinse and repeat. 

And if lucky enough somewhere there smack in the middle of it, maybe having some new idea, a break from the ideal, a trip or a party perhaps?

In school the teachers taught as all they know? Maybe, at least, some of the things, making the information flow, circling around and to everyone.

We as adults move along, repeating the steps of others, our parents, grandparents and so on. Then as parents pushing the learnt knowledge to our offspring, the cycle continues…

At work reusing the already invented and proven processes and methods, as why invent the wheel, it is round anyway and well, a circle. Moving along, in rounded circles.. see the repeating theme here?

Then the trash, yeah, that is the ultimate recycle! But that is a whole other tale, all the stuff we accumulate… and then throw away. Perhaps try not to do that to our lives?

In the end, its all just fine, admitting to it and then moving along with the circle of life! Heck, even the name says it all. Circle, life, recycle?

And so, whatever your belief or faith might just be, in the end, life itself might just repeat after death, a total and complete recycle of beings.

I myself, will certainly want to come back as a cat, that much is sure, as having all the internet cheering for me just being me! But then I would not care about any kinds of cycles, re or not. Except perhaps for a ball of yarn, that’s circular, right?

I’m not evil?

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“To be totally evil? Well it could be a challenge for the future, right?” Gun Roswell

I’m not evil?

I’m not really that evil, am I?

But then again, I a just not a ver nice person either 

And whomever thought differently

Well, guess they will be a tad disappointed

Not getting to lay their blame

On the one person, whom they thought

Was the source

Of everything totally wrong

In the world, heck, even in the universe

But they did not get that chance

I as I do decline 

From the role itself

Being the evil one of course

Frosted Blues

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“That moment, when the blues hits, the same time of the day, when nature paints all the outside in the same colour as is the mental mood of the on out there, standing on display.” Gun Roswell

Frosted Blues

The mood reflected all around, from skies to the ground, the colour varied in hues, but it is, definitely, the Blues.

No matter the time of year, no matter, whether the sun was up there or simply the grey clouds spreading their shades of two.

It is always the same, at the exact moment of the day, when it all happens, out there, where no one dares to even imagine the why’s out of fear.

But those familiar with the colour, the many shades of it, no matter what they call it, it will go by one single name, the Blues.

Dare to embrace it, feel it, sing it, hang on to it for the moment when it hits, as in a split second, it will surround you and then, like it did hit, it will be gone as quick as that.

Trying to hang on to it, is never good, and why you really shout not, can be tough, but letting go, is the better choice, as the spell of it is luring, and the pain enduring while under the Blues, rewarding.

But it will never really be gone, as long as you are one with nature, so, without hatred, embrace the Blues and when the moment hits, live in it, but let go, and more strong will you be.

As the Blues is not something anyone should really own.

Frosted

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“It looks like someone sprayed frosting all over the trees, like on a cake!” Gun Roswell

Frosted

The wintery forest like a magical garden, all in so many shades of white, the frozen snow and ice, looking more like a topping on some food thing than anything natural.

But, we all know nature performs miracles and winter is among those for sure, the sugary coating looking all too good, but certainly not something anyone would chew on.

Still, it looks pretty while it lasts, the picture perfect draft of an image, taken in haste, as the cold seeping in through the cracks of this human being, only wanting to have the perfect memory of a winter’s day to last.

Flash Frozen (meaning very quickly)

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“When the cold front hits, well, things get frozen solid.” Gun Roswell

Flash Frozen (meaning very quickly)

The problem or beauty of winter is, that when the temperatures plummet, the waters get frozen, no matter in the creek or on top of a dozen, the weather really never discriminates not for nature or human nor animal alike, they all freeze if no cover is applied

So, when you come upon a gorgeous display, of something frozen in their way, still life for the times, or at least, until the warm front hits again and melting process starts, revealing a living thing underneath all that ice, surviving the harsh coldness of winter, which is alway nice