What Ever!!!

“Screw you guys, I’m going home!” Eric Cartman

You were smiling
Feeling charming
And quite beguiling
The sun was shining
This was supposed to be
A great day
For a song or a play

But then it turned out to be
Something else completely
It turned out to be
One of *those days*
Struck you in the face
Run over like a ten ton truck
And disappear without a trace

What the fuck?
Feeling like a schmuck
Completely out of luck
Standing in the rain
Without an umbrella
Almost going insane
And not from singing a cappella

So I say “What ever!”
And take my leave

I write, therefore I am?

“Either write something worth reading or do something worth writing” Benjamin Franklin


I don’t remember a time when I wasn’t writing.

I did my first “screenplay” at the age of five with crayons and forced my whole family to watch the Christmas play I wrote, produced an ven acted in too! Later in my teens, I started writing fan fiction for my favourite shows on television, way before the internet, fan fiction as such and even personal computers were invented. I loved the weekly challenges for writing in school and of course, I was a book junkie too.

Writing for me has been sporadic at best and I mostly consider myself a closet writer. I am in the closet, out of the closet, back in and now finally out again, publishing on the internet as much and as often as humanly possible 😉

I am also a poet, and did not know it: True in many ways, as I write from anything and everything. My inspiration can be a phrase I heard on the lift ride or something from the morning radio. Mainly, these days, I get inspired from the pictures I take.

For me, personally, writing is an creative outlet for the mundane working day. If I do not write, I am be a very, very, very cranky person ;P

My motto is: A poem a day, keeps the mental doctor away!
The second motto is: Write more, complain less!

tumblr_n70jdhtcex1sag14uo2_500

Stormy Weather Ahead

“it might be raining even storming, but it’s all good for the soil not to mention nature.” Gun Roswell

Thunder and lightning
Onto the ground striking
The stormy weather
Bringing hail and rain
Forget the touch of the feather
No more dreams of the sunny
Time to wake up honey
We are not in Spain
Anymore…

An Ode to my Wellingtons

“I may just be an optimist, but I always pack my wellies no matter the weather!” Gun Roswell

rain boots 2

You beautiful lovelies
My sweet red Wellingtons
Luckily I wasn’t swayed
By those tempting sandals
I would have been betrayed
When the rain came pouring down
Hopeless without my crown
Puddles all over the ground
No safe harbour to be found
Taking a small step
Anticipating the get wet
But to my surprise
You saved my life!

Give and Take?

“Time for some, give and take perhaps?” Gun Roswell

argument

I told you so, but you never listen!

A “conversation” between two people about everything and nothing as it may have happened.

“You are so thick headed aren’t you!”

“So I’m the one who is the bad guy again, huh?”

“Well you are. There is no arguing about that!”

“So you are blaming me about everything that has gone wrong?”

“Yes, what’s your point?”

“No point. It’s hilarious! You are hilarious!”

“So now you are saying I’m a joke? Is that it?”

“No, I said you must be joking.”

“That’s not what I heard.”

“Then there must be something wrong with your hearing.”

“So now you are complaining about my ability to understand you!”

“No, I said you understand things in your own way.”

“Are you calling me stupid? If you are I will show you stupid…!”

“Good grief! Read my lips: You are stubborn!”

“Just because I hear and understand something differently than you, that makes me stubborn?”

“Potato, tomato!”

“Are you mocking me?”

“No.”

“It sure sounded like you were.”

“You heard me wrong then!”

“Again with the hearing! I am not deaf you know!”

“What was the point?”

“What point?”

“Why are we arguing?”

“I dunno. The weather is not so good today?”

“No it’s not. The forecast promised sunshine tomorrow though.”

“Sounds good.”

“Yep.”

“Yep.”

“Ok then!”

“Yep.”

The Label Maker

“Labels, are for bottles and containers, not people” Gun Roswell

Hey you with your label maker!
You like tagging people don’t ya, you faker!
You went right by me and took one look
Stuck this sticker on my forehead without a single hook
I am having a hard time getting it off
Did you think it would make a great perma-label on this spot?

But guess what, you nut
I washed my face with potent soap in a rut
With a huff and a puff
My forehead finally crystal clear and clean again
Luckily without the use of acid rain
And nothing of it sticking to my brain

No amount of glue
Will keep the sticker on my face
Your plan went sadly askew
Or were you just in the wrong place
Memorize this lesson
Into your big fat head
Go find some cans for making the impression
And label some of them instead

Beach time! In the middle of… autumn?

“Something odd is certainly going on… as those people, are headed to the beach… but it’s fall…???” Gun Roswell

When the Sunday time, loudly, its present chimed
We ran, like we were on fire, out there, from the dire
Into the open wild nature, with colours so lush
There really was no need for any kind of rush
To enjoy the art work devised by our beloved Mother Nature
Was there for everyone to see, without any kind of fee

But we ran, as fast as any one can, really
For you see, there was somewhere else we wanted to be, really
Beside the calm and cooling waters, fooling around like a bunch of sea otters
We made our way, discarding all clothing, falling where ever they may
Splashing into the soft waves, letting the healing waters save
Ourselves in the process, as this was the place for us, the total bliss

We played and frolicked, until the darkness descended we stayed
Then only, reaching for the softest of sands, lending each other a hand
To find the discarded garments, a little dirty, maybe even sandy, was a mild statement
But nobody cared, as it had all been time so well spent
Out here, on the beach, on this summer’s Sunday we had reached
And if we were to be lucky, maybe next weekend, we could come back again

It’s… a rainbow day!!!

“Sometimes, happiness creeps up in most unusual ways. Look up!” Gun Roswell

The darkening of the evening, had in mind, a big surprise
As I was driving down the slow road, my small eyes spied
Looking up, towards the turning of the skies
Delivered, for only little old me, myself and I
Was the most gorgeous display, on this land side

Rainbow, flashing in so many wonderful colours
I swear, those colours, had clearly detectable odours
Glaring, staring, there, behind the wheel, in total awe
I quickly had the epiphany, i.e a somewhat good thought
Maybe trying to capture the end of the thing on a photograph

Alas, real life is usually much better in realtime vision
And picking up that camera, and driving, was most likely not the best decision
So, pulling aside, at the first option, when it finally arrived
Getting out and up along the curve of the street in five
Then snapping, snapping, snapping away like a child

Well, I did not really find the exact end of the rainbow
Not a pot of gold nor some life lessons for me where told
Alas, the memory of the pretty thing up there in the skies
That will last, for a very, very long and memorable time
And should I forget, well, I have a few blurry snaps to reminisce

Cats and Handbags

“Sometimes, a cat simply needs a walk, but why waste them delicate paws as handbags have been invented!” Gun Roswell


“I keep my cat
In my handbag”

Said the old hag
And, with a snag
Lighting a fag

“It’s not a gag,
so just cut me some slack”

She quickly snapped
As she zigzagged
A price tag
Like a yellow flag
Flashing on her ragtag
And out of fashion coat
Stepping into a boat
Flinging in her large tote
The cat sprung out
And onto the float
In a few quick strokes
She rowed across the moat

Autumn in Suburbia again

“Autumn, is here and it’s pretty, but it’s also getting colder day by day, less of the sun to be seen, guess, this means, it’s time, for some sleep?” Gun Roswell

Early, before the sunrise, alas today, it wasn’t going to smile
The cloud covered, grey and dark in coloured, low hanging skies
Were preparing, for the upon coming time, that of the polar nights

“But, it was just summer!”
Someone prompted like it was a bummer

“Yeah, and soon we will have snow”
The other piled on quickly in the other ones tow

“Quit yammering about the weather you two,
Because soon, it will be too dark and too cold
To even dare to step out from the home old!”
The third ones comment, surely shut their mouths

But whether the weather, was the topic or not
This time of the year, was always, welcomed with a scoff
As slumbering into darkness, was no way to get off

The difference at this time, between night and day
Was hardly visible, to the beady eyes now slain
By the blurred visions, from too long indoors staying

Only the cloudy and grey skies outside remained
And even those ones, who would like to complain
Had to admit, that it was cozy, inside their own domains

After all, this was a yearly thing in stall
For all those small dwellers, up the far north
Pending their time, before the coming of
Some other type of seasonal weather
But that was a topic, after this time, of fall