“The looking glass of the world below as seen through the very small window of an airplane mid-flight” Gun Roswell
The view from above
From the port window
Flying up high
Up in the blue sky
Close to the exit
Going through the checklist
Just in case…
“It’s night time up in the air, the passenger falling asleep, one by one, the hum of the engines the only sound present, sunset, until, the rising sun” Gun Roswell
Sunrise or sunset
High up for a reset
Destination, unknown
Flying, to a different zone
A new year
New destinations
There is no fear
Only new sensations
Staring out the window
Reflections of the past and now
Mirrored in the looking glass
Knowing only, time will pass
New year
New hopes
Prepaired on full gear
Despite the slippery slopes
“The wings spread, the wind beneath holding great guiding ever upwards, nose straight, looking ahead, the destination really not set, as it’s just about the flight, nothing else” Gun Roswell
Flying through the air
Without a single care
A beauty with flare
Innocence unaware
Flapping her wings
While the wind sings
Sky feels like spring
A scene well worthy
Of kings
“Something about the teeth and all that, perhaps flying high because of treatments and drugs and whatnots involved, seeing the Tooth Fairy at the end of it all?” Gun Roswell
You know
That feeling
Lying
In the chair
Thinking
Life
Is not fair
Staring
At the ceiling
Anticipating
Sweat
Covering
Your skin
Waiting for
The drilling
To begin
The sound
Resonating
In your skull
Totally bound
With feelings
Of dull
Contemplating
An escape
Looking
At the window
Wishing
For a cape
Like a superhero
Flying away
No time
The Dentist
Hovering
Covering
Your eyes
With sunglasses
Working
In a quick pace
Before I
Can plot my
Break
My mind
Wandering to
Molasses?
Am I
Loosing it?
Completely
Sugar
Would be
The last thing
I needed
Mouth
Agape
Drooling
Like an ape
Fooling
Not a chance
In a deep
Trance
Or a drug endused
State
After all
Is done
Wishing
I had
A gun
Somehow
Cooling down
Getting up
Staggering
Reeling
A sick
Feeling
A glance
In the mirror
Spittle
And blood
On my face
Must be
An error
Covering
My head
With a hood
Leaving quickly
No looking
Back
Oh what
A quack
Never mind
It’s all over
Until
Next time
When
You hear
It’s as funny
As A root canal
Time to fear
And run
As fast
As you
Can
“Something of a treat it is, flying far out there, beyond the borders of our daily lives, neat!” Gun Roswell
A reserved seat
By the window
Supposed treat
With a small peep hole
A looking glass
For what ever may pass
The wing
Of this flying thing
“Is there really any kind of life out there, beyond our constraining borders for us mere mortals onto this ground, this Earth of ours, still bound, those of us not owning a working spaceship to fly away with?” Gun Roswell
In
My Mind
Science Fiction
Science Fact
Utopia
The Earth
The Planets
The Stars
In
My Mind
A Galaxy
The Milky Way
The Cosmos
The Universe
The Intergalactic Space
A Void
In
My Mind
A Wormhole
A Black hole
A Singularity
Pi
A mathematical constant
The number 47
A mystery
In
My Mind
Spiraling
With random thoughts
With coherent thoughts
Universes and Worlds
Conjured up and destroyed
In
My Mind
Aliens and
Their spaceships
Humans with
Their flying machines
In the Here
And Now
I am
Peddling
On my Bicycle
The long dark road
A head of Me
“The journey always begins with but one step…. or then, there’s a heck of a lot of planning involved, some monetary expenses and guess, time off to have?” Gun Roswell
Flying across the skies
Waiting for the price
At the end of the station
A promised vacation
The journey taken
Was not a long one
Each morning awoken
To the rays of the sun
Surrounded by history
Shrouded in mystery
Time spent on the beach
Bliss at hands’ reach
Enjoying each day
Life a large buffet
Until it was time
Back home to climb
“The winged horsy animal” Gun Roswell
The mighty white stallion with
Wings on his back, flying around in
Ancient times like a bird
Descended from gods, made of
Shiny marble, a true marble for both
Modern times and of history
Ride it no one dares
Tame it, it will give a scare
Alas, well he did not
Fare, in the end into
Heavens did he ascend, joining his brothers
And the rest of gods
“The monuments of yesteryear… yep, they are still here! “ Gun Roswell
The dark and mysterious silhouette, against the night sky
Bold, pompous and really big, is the character flying high
Animals, people and even abstract figures were applied
The parks, streets and even museums, filled with all sizes
“Monumental!” someone in awe sighed
“Extraordinaire!” an other one was all smiles
“Such beauty!” from off the sides
“I want one of them to buy!”
The art works from yesteryear, were really pleasing, on the eyes
And the great point being, it was all for free, with zero cents for buying!
“I don’t think I can ever get tired of the scenery outside my window” Gun Roswell
The many lands, the foreign vistas, the great unknown and all the open possibilities
For the exploration, to what ever lies outside, these empty and dull suburban streets
Behind the frames of this view, ever changing, but still, mostly, the same remaining
Window with the most perfect view, at least in my mind, leaving me feeling, never, ever blue
As I sit at the sidelines, in my usual comfortable seat and think of the open wide
World, just at reach, at least, in my mind, out there, outside, I cannot help but smile
As I gently lull myself into a dream state lazy, and then travelling to all the places
Wherever my own imagination dares me to carry, smoothly, never in any kind of hurry
Having always the perfect amount of time, to explore, to see, to feel, to live in it all
Even if it is never, well really, quite real, it is still, a trip or sorts, out there
Never leaving the comfort of these walls of my sombre home, still, never really alone
Not at least, when visiting these, far away lands in my mind, for the perfect scenery to find
Rantings Of A Third Kind 