Island Life in Monochrome, when the Sun is none too bright

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“The island life can be, a kind of a strife, at least some times, as it makes none smile, but hey, that is the life, on an island, am I right!“ Gun Roswell

Island Life in Monochrome, when the Sun is none too bright

The low hanging dark grey skies against the tall greyish mountains 

The mood quite dark, without a spark, as is the ambiance, all around 

But there is really no escape, even if you wanted to leave the place

As, after all, you have chosen this small kind of life, on a remote island 

But, when the season is totally right and the sun is shining so bright 

Then all notion for fight and flight completely vanishes, like a dirty dish

As the beaches are so very soft and the skies turn to the coolest blue

Mimicking the waters hues, simply because this colour us soothes

Still, whatever the weather is, or the time of seasonal delight

It does not matter for the true island dwellers, because they will fight

Against all the elements, just to be able to live on their promised land

No matter if it will mostly stay, in the monochromatic colour of grey

POEM OF PRIDE

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PRIDE

“It is pride month again. For those otherwise inclined, not fitting the norm. Some call it pandering, others simply enjoy the appreciation thrown their way.” Gun Roswell

Pride

What does it mean? Really?

It is just having a flag of colour raised up the pole for a duration of thirty days?

Wearing colourful socks or shoes, perhaps a bag of the same colour spectrum?

Being acknowledged at the work place, having pins placed on their lapels, sporting the rainbow colours?

The convenient store around the corner, displaying their pride collection proudly beside the register?

But for me? Personally?

Simply to be me, to exist, just the way I was intended to be

Not to be put in a box, designed by those, who would prefer to do so

I don’t ware any other colours than those, which suit my daily mood

Just because the calendar said so, and wanted me to come out of my home

I have and always will be, simply me

Acceptance or not, I cannot and will not change who I am

And so, alone or together with others daring, I make my stand

Celebrating each and everyday of the year, without fear

And so, tipping my bonnet to those, who chose this time to appreciate us, other folk

But also reminding them all, this month is not the only time we, queer folk, do exist

Blue, Blues, Bluest

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“The blues a beckons once again, I reckon, it’s that time of the day or week or even year, when all of it and us too, will be engulfed inside the coolest and calmest of blue“ Gun Roswell

Blue, Blues, Bluest

The blues of the day, when I first opened my eyes and onto the gorgeous scenery lay, those magnificent varied hues, making me shiver just out of the blue, with the pun included of course as today was all about becoming one with the blues.

The cooling and calming skies and waters, all now combined together, or so it seems even without the tether as the skies and endless seas are blurred in to each other like someone slurred the words out and then painted on top.

Blue, bluer, the bluest, those are the best of the hues, at least, today when all I want to do is sit and play the blues, and that is okay to do. Just enjoying the calmest of views, without too much to do, until perhaps some other colour takes their place, tomorrow.

Sailing into the calming waves

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“Sailing into the sunset? Perhaps later, but right now, following the calming blue of the waves, is the best way to move ahead“ Gun Roswell

Sailing into the calming waves

The wind on my back, the sun on my face, where could be a better place, for at least a day to stay, more even, as it was no chore, than in a small vessel, lulled by the calming waves, no destination set, only to let the spirits of the undecided to guide me on my way, wherever it may lay, but for now, it does not really matter as the journey is just about to begin, and so, hoisting the sails, without any further delay, as it is time to set sail, out there, into the world open wide, with a hint of a smile, as I wave my goodbyes to those, standing by, but this life, has just begun and even if the path ahead was unclear and filled with unknowns, it was simply part of the fun, not letting anything to stun moving ahead, but always keeping eyes peeled on new adventures instead, and so letting the blue coloured flow guide through the waves, the small craft with just the single sail.

Neighbourly views

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“Nothing of a more perfect view, like staring through, the neighbours window, peeping into the secret life never meant to?” Gun Roswell

Neighbourly views

The windows so close to each other, it is impossible not to see what the other side does, even if the curtains would be closed, surely one or few observing and vigilant peeps are a must, of course unless you get totally busted in doing so and then, well, it could be rather awkward for all, then or perhaps not?

Because aren’t we all, small versions of a peeping Tammy or Tom? Wanting a quick glimpse of it all, of how the other side supposedly lives, especially when looking through a rose coloured lens of course, after all, if they did not want someone to look, then why bother to keep the shutters un-shut?

Still, when sitting by the window sill, an admiring the many views, natural or those created by the lovely neighbours, there is no better reason, for a celebratory drink or few, alcoholic or simply sugarcoated whatever is fine to choose, as the peeping through the windows will continue, as long as there is something to view.

News on and off the walls

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“Read the news, old or new, while strolling the streets of blue, as they are all, off the wall, literally, because reading is fundamental” Gun Roswell 

News on and off the walls

They are splattered all across the walls, here, there and everywhere, the news from today and news from the before, interesting reading they just might make, even if not all are on the nerve of the day, but for those who are on the eternal stroll, not really needing anything usually to know, but soon curiosity peeking, even without seeking the right instalment, even if not from their present day kind of story, it is never boring at all, especially, when nothing else peeks the mind, and this stuff is just to unwind, depending of course, whether the news is happy or dreary, well, either way, they might leave the reader in some kind of feelings, about it all, even if it was all just off the wall, but do not worry, it is only natural and so, just continue with the stroll, as soon enough, another kind of wall will feature a set off whole selection of all kinds of news, and ain’t that just totally cool!

Seated and in waiting

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“There is nothing to do, except to sit and wait, for a minute, an hour or even a year, worst case scenario being that is” Gun Roswell

Seated and in waiting

The long wait ahead, or so it seemed, even if the queue was not that long and things seemed to moving nicely, but then, soon enough, when the turn was about to be mine, the moving along halted and nothing was happening for a while. There was nothing to do about it of course, but to patiently wait, as it was this was always the catch with this kind of affair, as nothing ever happened as expected, and somebody always had some kind of a complaint, leaving the others for a long, long wait. 

Well, there was an upside to the down and so, the long faced frown, soon turned around as the the table with free seats came to view. As luck would have it, the place across the queue, was serving some brew for those weary in waiting and so, quickly heading to the visible respite, finding the place totally empty, much to a surprise, but never mind, an order soon enough placed and seated at the table, and then, then with a sun in face, keeping an eye on the very place, with others queuing in their place, but me, I was waiting for my turn with a smile on my face on the comfy bench. 

Star Wars the Bad Batch – new fan fiction released on AO3 and FanFiction.net

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Gun Roswell's avatarGun Roswell

The Bad Batch

I have uploaded several stories of fan fiction onArchive of Our Ownand FanFiction.net of the adventures of The Bad Batch. These tales follow a completely original story line diverging from the Star Wars canon. Some of the themes are for the more mature audiences. All of it being pure fan fiction aka Fanon. Naturally!

Go check them out here on AO3:
Against the odds
The Bad Batch – Snippets with altered ending for season one, episodes
The return of the prodigal clone
The light of the darkness
What ever happened to Crosshair?
Crosshair lost and found
Crosshair and the Rex
Tech-O/T-Echo
Tech-O/T-Echo Two

On FanFiction.net:
Against the odds
The Bad Batch – Snippets with altered ending for season one, episodes
The return of the prodigal clone
The light of the darkness
What ever happened to Crosshair? PARTS 1-3

Hope you will enjoy reading…

View original post 33 more words

Coffee, on the run

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“There is always time for coffee, no matter where and when you are running, coffee, in the run, of course!“ Gun Roswell

Coffee, on the run

The coffee break does not read the time on the clock, ticking away, tick tock, too loudly, as a moment or few had passed, without a cup on the side, and so, there was now a great big gaping hole where the coffee used to go, a size which could only be filled with the strongest kind of concoction, the kind where even a spoon would melt in, and so, it was totally a large kind of sin, to go such a long time not consuming even a drop of the stuff, which made life somewhat worthwhile, and perhaps even that faint smile onto the grumpy old face, as nothing else really these days could, but now, on the run, not the morning jog type rather fighting through in the rat race, trying to keep the head above the water’s edge, and without constantly tipping into the coffee jar, it was impossible at best, and so, taking a mug filled to the hilt, a large one at that, consuming it while moving forward in a good pace, the coffee helping on this difficult race.

Light at the end of the very dark tunnel

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“Even in the darkest of moments, a slice of light will crack through” Gun Roswell

Light at the end of the very dark tunnel

The darkness long and harsh, without any redeeming parts
The land, the sky, the ocean once blue, painted in the same hue
Of greyish black, dark as the heart of the dwellers without a clue
On how to and this all and to get back into the ways of light
As despite, all their efforts to gather up some slice of the nice
And warming softly burning fiery light, there had not been any signs
Of the darkness letting on and so, trying to remain calm and strong
The dwellers patiently waited and kept on looking into the horizon
For any and all signs of the bringer of light to be anytime soon rising
There was a long time spent, just doing nothing special to relent
To the thoughts of never ever seeing the hope in the air
Yielding into to semi permeant despair, as all the things to repair
The missing life of the light had failed but there was one who dared
To hop and sit and stare, at the tunnel of darkness but seeing the end
And there, the very hope of light, and standing guard just in case
The light could be spared all through the tunnel and to all others
Simply waiting in strife, and perhaps tomorrow would bring it forth