Leaves

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“There are leaves across the skies, seemingly alive” Gun Roswell

Leaves

The leaves, which never fall, no matter spring, summer, winter or even fall

They keep on hanging there, being for ever green, the pretties anywhere seen

And then when the sun turns up to shine, against the coolest of blue skies

There are vibrations of various kind, the other colours, seen just again the dust

Even the very soft fluffiness of them reflected, against the blue up in the sky

And as the eyes do spy, all those sudden elements hidden there, on the inside 

What a surprise, for the weary observer of nature, never fully understanding the nature

Of those mundane leaves, which sometimes in the soft winds start to heave

But still are able, a most permanent mark on a person leave, just by seeing them be

Oh so quiet and calm!

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“The ocean beckons to  be explored, but today, I feel like such a bore, and simply want to rest for a while longer, on top of the calming waves” Gun Roswell

Oh so quiet and calm!

The calming of the waves, as soon as I my head will lay, on top of the smoothing surface at any, body gently floating, as it is coping, with this overly gentle place, searching for a state of mind, which out there is really hard to find, the peace, the quiet, the calm, but here it is all so clear, when lulled to sleep, on these calming waves, as even after all the fight of the day, this is where I finally want to stay, on top of the soft material, even if not a bed of any kind, I need my rest and so, this state is the one not to debate, whether or not, and so, with eyes closed tightly, I concentrate, still floating above the edge, the mind at rest, thoughts all gone, no sounds or images to explore, only the calm and quiet surrounding, this unruly mind and body, without counting the passing time, and that is all simply fine.

Blue seats for a Blue Sunday

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Crete, Greece

“The blues can continue all through the week, and so, when we seek solace, it can be found inside the blues, so take a load of, on a seat so blue and let the blues wash over you“ Gun Roswell

Blue seats for a Blue Sunday

The Sunday is once again upon us, the working week, finally done, feeling like a bunched up sponge with all the energy having been sucked out, like the wraith had had their fun and now, forgotten all the supposed puns about that, but I digress and so, the idea of getting a respite even if feeling the Sunday blues, as per usual, because it is the end of a short era, a week now done and done with, even if it may not have been the most fun I had with, but today on this Sunday, I am able to have a respite and dwell inside the blues, sit on my seat I did eventually choose and now surrounded by the whole electric feel of the blues, skies, seas and my seat, for this day, are a perfect cheat for the mind wondering, before Monday rears its head once again and a new era of a week will begin.

Archways decoded

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Cyprus

“Arches upon arches, as smart building styles, mathematically totally sound, are the archways where the codes in are bound” Gun Roswell

Archways decoded

The ancient ruins, discarded, but most walls still standing, especially those doorways and entrances, the archways, built to last the test of time, with mathematical preciseness, the builders clearly decisive of what and how, the calculations done without a single flaw in the formula, the code hidden inside of the regularly looking stone work, hidden from prying eyes and not even possible to reverse engineer for the present day bob of a builder, even if similar archways could be built along the lanes, but it would never be the same proud constructs as those from the ancient past, because these modern day structures will never last, like the old school ones did and do, the secretes buried inside of how these fine arched doorways and walls appeared, from the claws of the backwards dwellers, and so, before we start to tear down and destroy them, perhaps leave them be, as a reminder of something good and clean, we can really never be Abel to achieve during these so called days of the modern era, as these archways can never really be, decoded.

The fortress and the fountain in front  

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“Traveling through the world and then into the wide galaxy hurled, only back home to find my way“ Gun Roswell 

The fortress and the fountain in front  

The fortified home, on the island  way too small, with a fountain or few up front, what a cliche was the first thought, still, the view still highly sought, but when it was bought, there was only the idea of being in safe place, with it pretty kind of facade up front, and so, the heavily built home of thing, rose up inside the spring, now fully grown into a large lake, nay, ocean wide, the divide not small but large and certainly keeping anyone else at bay, pun intended, as the strong house in the midst there lay, the pretty front of fountained resources on display, only it wasn’t simply for the dwellers to attention pay, but the odd traveller stopped by, admiring the view of this so called home on the way, seeing the postcard perfection, and even wanting to lay claim to it themselves, alas, it wasn’t an easy task as the fortress was not on sale, not for a million or more credits someone wanted for it to pay. 

Star Wars The Bad Batch – more FanFiction released on AO3 and FanFictionNet

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Gun Roswell's avatarGun Roswell

The Bad Batch (Star Wars)

I have uploaded several stories of fan fiction onArchive of Our Own (AO3) and FanFiction.net of the adventures of The Bad Batch. These tales follow a completely original story lines diverging from the Star Wars canon. Fanon as I like to call it. Some of the themes are for the more mature audiences. All of it being pure fan fiction aka Fanon. Of course!

Go check them out here on AO3:
Tech-O/T-Echo Three
The Bad Batch – Crosshair’s Personal Log
Tech-O/T-Echo Four
Old friends found in the strangest of places – Part One
Good soldiers serve the Empire?

On FanFiction.net:
The Bad Batch – T-EchoTech-O
The Bad Batch – Tech-OT-Echo Two
The Bad Batch – Tech-OT-Echo Three
The Bad Batch – Tech-OT-Echo Four
The Bad Batch – Crosshair’s Personal Log
The Bad Batch – Good soldiers serve the Empire?
The Bad Batch…

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Though the ancient eyes

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“The ancient ones, had it done, and all out of rock too, with chisels and chicken bones no less“ Gun Roswall

Though the ancient eyes

They sure did know how to build them, on top of the tallest mountain as well, those gorgeous temples and other houses of worship, as they did, only using their bare hands and chicken bones, at least, that is the tale still being told. There might be other opinions out there, as how these ancient ones managed to build on this sphere, so many millennia ago, as even if they had nothing more to show for their tools other than perhaps, a few stone knives when called upon, to make something for their gods above. And so, they did, ever more upwards and higher, having the visions in their minds eye as to what the place would look like, and even out of spite, if no one else but their waring neighbours, the monuments were erected in the most unusual places. And so, because of that gut and effort and sweat and perhaps even soul, we, todays children, are able to admire and see, what the world was like as seen, through the ancient eyes.

Three windmills a standing 

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“The wind does not stop blowing simply because there is some resistance up ahead, right?” Gun Roswell 

Three windmills a standing 

Forever and all the past ages, the three sages have stood there

Against and with the howling winds, rotating their crooked wings

No matter which way all the blows have landed, they always sing

The eerie tune of the nature’s forces wherever the gust clings

It does not really matter for these tall three, who stood the test of time

And came out of it all, just fine, at least, for a while that is

As sometimes during the history, of these thee windmills

The effort to sustain them still standing there, was on the way

So, all those tad dwellers, did their very best

To make sure these three tall windmills would stay the rest

Of the ancient history or at least last few more years

Defending them all and providing more, like electricity

The modern thing after all the history had passed

And so, with the new modifications in place, it’s most likely

These three mills against the winds in their very spot stay

As for others to enjoy and admire, while the dwellers worship 

Them as the best things on the planet, the protectors and providers

Painted Waterfalls

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“The waters are pouring way down, all the way from the top, towards the bottom, where else did you think they were going?” Gun Roswell

Painted Waterfalls

The water falling into the small pond surrounding by colours and odours of all kinds

The place while hard to find, the picturesque setting alone was well worth the grind

Trekking through the jungles and muddy roads, don’t seem to weigh so much anymore 

Now that the views of this place are visible first hand, right here were I now stand

As this was the land I had been looking for a long time and now I am finally here

In this outer worldly place, painted with colours which only could be concocted out of fantasy

The waters soft and inviting, cascading through the fall and into the fountain below

Tempting for a dip in the calming balms of the elixirs of life, in the surroundings without strife

This indeed is the life, anyone could ask to be a part of, even if it was only constructed

For one special moment, inside the mind of a fantasy locked deep inside for a long while

But now, I am finally here and this is where I will forever stay, without any kind of fear

Mundane Monday Monochrome

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“The Monday, the one day, that can easily be spent, in the colour of Monochrome“ Gun Roswell

Mundane Monday Monochrome

The Monday mood, in grey as per usual, spending time, under the doorway open wide, an archway they say, as past most of them sway, clearly, the news, of this day, today, being a Monday, has not reach their busy minds, but here, regular like clockwork, the chime indicated, it was that time, the start for a week, for those whom something new seek, but the grey overtones, make the day rather bleak, and so, hiding under the archway, is the best bet at least.

But there is beauty in the monochromatic world too, even as seen from below an obstructed view with some kind of a Monday hating attitude, as the vivid shades of greys keep chaining with the time of the day, the lighting, the shadows and all the other whatnots, but most of all, hiding under the way of arching rock, ain’t too bad after the initial shock, as it will be only for the one day, the day of the week, nobody really admits, is the crappiest of them all, but hey, stay low, as tomorrow, will be another Tuesday again.