Wild Ride I one

“Take a ride on the wild side” Gun Roswell

Wild Ride

Blue Moped

A ride on the minimalistic size motorbike
Turned out to be quite the interesting hike
Hardly fitting my big fat ass on its seat
But got on it anyway, as I never admit defeat

My knees bent, almost to the hilt
I am sitting here, on this smallest of seats
With the wind and all them flies in my face
Yes, truly this is a memorable stage

Riding along the streets at noon
Certainly, to the onlookers, I am funny as a buffoon
Cannot say I am enjoying the scenery
As the most concentration is used to keep the bike steady

But like all good (or bad) experiences my ride has ended
And I am really so glad this time to have wasted
In learning a lesson of sizes and even gravity
And some people should just stay on this side of sanity

Wild Ride I two

“Take a ride on the wild side” Gun Roswell

Wild Ride

Ride on the Rails

Ride on the train, in the high lands of Spain
A tiny trolley car, on its own traveling so far
Up to the mountains seen in the front
I start to consider how it really can pull of this stunt

Moving forward huffing and puffing
As there really is no chance to be backing
So, here I sit, enjoying the none to smooth ride
My poor derriere, on the seats is starting to slide

Back and forth, up and down
My smiley face nothing but a frown
But hanging on to the edge of the seat
No, not me, why would I admit defeat

I have come a long way to enjoy this place
Choosing this choo choo train train might have been a mistake
But I am on it now, and enjoying it somehow
Until the bitter end, but where else would I this time spend?

Finally reaching the very top
Nope, this trip was certainly not a flop
The view is completely gorgeous and totally magnificent
Ain’t I so glad to have time on this journey spent?

Olden Days I four

”Everything was so much better in the good old days!” Gun Roswell

Olden Days

Telephone Call

“Phone home!
Phone home now!
Me T phone home right now!”

If that was a movie, it would most likely be boring
Sending all the audiences, to a deep state of snoring
But when, once again, the old bell rang
And answering the old school calling device
Turned out to be really nice
An experience from yester-year
Talking to the large receiver
Was a sensation so extreme
Only concentrating on talking
To the person on the other end, not stalking
Any facepaper, instamessage or twatter
Not even once able to read any chatter
Taking the time
Just to talking was no crime
And actually, getting to know
What the other person told
Smart phones can be cool
But for real live person to person phone calls,
Try once more to go old school!

Olden Days I three

”Everything was so much better in the good old days!” Gun Roswell

Olden Days

In Transit

On the narrowest of street car rails
Setting clear for forward to “sail”
The silent prayers, and fingers crossed, that nothing will fail
But feeling lucky to have found this transport
As it’s rarity compares only, to the finding of the holy grail
The old car shaky as it rests on so many crooked wheels
Still, this genuine, good old time feel
To me and my travelling companions on so many levels appeal

The loud creaky sounds, and then, the clickety clacks
Soon filling the insides of and bouncing off the tracks
But, there definitely will be no lack
Of excitement and adventure, nor looking back
As the forward momentum keeps us pushing
Most likely because there is no reverse, so let’s keep on rushing:

“So, onward, ever upwards and once more to the breach!”
(No, those were not the words to seek, this is a completely different franchise, an I advise to keep this a simple and straight forward piece!)
“Look out the windows,
First to your left, then to your right
As you can all see,
This really is the life!
An experience coming to you once
(if you have money, then twice or more)
So, enjoy the view, and, with your mouth closed chew
And when the car stops, please make sure to embark!”

Olden Days I two

”Everything was so much better in the good old days!” Gun Roswell

Olden Days

Rustic

It may not be too chick
Even if it’s turning its other cheek
A cottage one could call rustic
Someone else would say quite busted
The wooden walls, soon to fall
Windows leaking, sometimes shrieking
Noises never heard
It inhabitants may disturb
But it’s always been in the family
So, giving it up, is not so easy

Maybe a new coat of paint
Will cover at least some of the stains
New doors and windows
Will prevent the wind blowing
At least indoors
The kitchen sink, which always stinks
Washing it up, may stop it
For a while at least
It all seems to be at peace
Until the next time then,
When,
Something is breaking down!

Olden Days I one

”Everything was so much better in the good old days!” Gun Roswell

Olden Days

 Laundry Day

When airing, your clean or dirty laundry
Just make sure, to not show off anything tawdry
People, these days, are so easily offended
And then, you will only get arrested
Even if to all your mistakes and faults you confessed
And told them all, it wasn’t even your dress there

So now, trying to explain your way out of this big mess
As the old school clothes seemed to be so filled with holes, no less

“But they were just fine a minute ago, or maybe it was ten years, I really don’t know,
Tell me why I should perfectly good garment away throw,
Even with big, see through holes,
They really keep me nice and cool, when the wind blows”

The argument for and against may have taken too long
In the end, the end results for either side were none too strong

Today, once again, is laundry day
My raggedy old things, on the washing line sing
The same old broken song,
Even joining, is the odd thong

“We may be old and worn, but we will not be scorned
By anyone’s looks of long, as there is nothing with us wrong (not really)
And we will hold together, with a thinnest of tethers
Until we are discarded, and into carpets yarn
So, never mind us here, just look over there!”

Directions I two

“It’s all in the perspective of things” Gun Roswell

Directions 

Flying Up

Catching the winds of spring
Soaring high up, my song to sing
I am a pretty bird in flight
And I may not always choose right
But I am sure this direction
Is the one I need for completion
Of my getting up so high
Even so far as the crows fly
Despite being a miniature beaked thing
There is no rule saying I cannot sing
And thusly, I am up here
In the open wide stratosphere
Higher than any other bird ever
In your face, for being clever!