Cool and the Gang of Cats

“They’re all ganging up now, against us, against the world, against all, and trust me, they will, win ;p“ Gun Roswell

Cool and the Gang of Cats

The ominous clouds, gathered in the tall skies
The streets empty, devoid of all kind of life
Except, well, that is when, they, stepped in
Those supposed friends, of this, hooman kin

Soon enough, each and every nook and cranny
Are filled up to the hilt with them sitting on their fannies
Taking over each and every vacant corner and lot
Yes, most definitely, they have some all consuming plot

As the furriest of characters, make their claim
On this small planet, where life, well, let’s face it, is lame
The growing sounds of the purrs and meows 
Are totally scaring off any other being, even the cows

But the point here really is, to take over the world
And en masse, the furry felines, are certainly heard
Their agenda still, the guess as good as any really
Then again, all of us, surrendered surprisingly freely

After several moments of collective breath holding
Awaiting for the inevitable to be soon enough unfolding
But then as if reading the quivering masses an out
The leader, or at least assumed to be, give out a shout

The demand list, has finally been delivered to the front door
To those ones whom the felines assumed to be the top dogs
After reading the list, assumed to be the end
Was actually really nice, and nothing there to defend

The few request, of fresh tuna, catnip and occasional belly rubs on the top
Were quickly reciprocated to the cool gang at the docks
And soon peace landed on over the land of all
As the cats, yes those ones, ate their fish and had a ball

Maybe, we, hoomans, are better off with these leaders
After all, they demand so little and are not cheaters
The trick here might be to just co-exist and adore
The furry leaders, keeping us happy, and in awe

Going back, in time

“When I was kid, my social network was called ‘outside’ “

Going back, in time

This is the work one of pure fiction. Neither polar bears nor reindeer were harmed in the creation of this literary process!

The year was 1924.

Longitude and latitude: Somewhere up north, thataway! The Finnish Lapland would probably be the most accurate location for this tale.

How old was I?

I guess I was somewhere between ten and twelve years of age. In those days, people were born and they died. No one really bothered with the record keeping. Lord knows there were plenty of us to go around.

Despite the fact it was close to midsummer, there was still snow on the ground. The reindeer and polar bears were roaming the streets while us kids were running around, having snowball fights. That is, during the minimum spare time we had between school, chores and work. Sleeping in those days was a luxury. Sometimes we had a full night’s sleep, sometimes the watch duty fell on my plate and I needed to stay up all night. Luckily, coffee had been invented ten years prior and we were all pretty much hooked on the sweet dark liquid.

Our housing for the winter months was an igloo, which the whole family constructed out of ice. Snow was used as plaster to fill in any holes between the blocks of ice. During the summer time, we had a tent like structure made out of bear and deer skin. Unfortunately all of us favoured the winter dwelling for one simple fact: The summer house stunk like a skunk. The choice of material was not a good one, but then, it was depression and all commodities were scarce.

The trip to school, either winter or summer time was made on skis and it was part to the exercise curriculum for all of us still eligible for the classes. A twenty kilometer trip back and forth was not a big deal and was building the strength and endurance nicely. This also came in handy for our after school activities. Some of us went to work in the coal mines, while others were herding rein deer or taking care of their younger siblings.

Each Saturday the Sauna was heated and all the family gathered into the cramped little room, heated up to eighty degrees. We were sitting all butt cheek to butt cheek in the nude on a wooden construct in the small dark room. Only the burning fire in the stove gave some lighting. As a luffa, a loosely tied bunch of birch tree branches with leaves on them was used. Out mother pummeled us with the concoction and me thinks she enjoyed it a little too much. Granted we children gave her grieve sometimes, so I will give her that.

Bathing for us then meant taking dips in the icy, below freezing waters. This, after we had first heated our body temperatures close to baking. Then we ran naked to the lake, where a large hole had been dug into the ice and plunged in.

All in all life was pretty ordinary and uneventful in my childhood, apart from the minor quirks.

Do I miss it? My childhood?

I would rather spend my next holiday on a labour camp!

10 Cute Southern Phrases and What They Actually Mean – From Bonnywood Manor blog

1. “Well, sugar my foot!” Translation: “I am thoroughly astonished that what you just said is actually true. Even if it’s really not.” This is a …

10 Cute Southern Phrases and What They Actually Mean

Caturday in Greece

“Cats rule the world.” Jim Davis

watchalookingat-2

Caturday in Greece

“Are you looking at me? You, looking, me?”

“Nah, I’m just resting here for a while It’s cool, hope you don’t mind!”

“Well, as long as you remember, You are in my turf now So just move along before the clock hits September!”

watchalookingat-1

Two of geese a-walking

“The birds are taking over the world, just like in that movie! Hey, that is just fine!” Gun Roswell

Two of geese a-walking

On the eleventh day of May
What comes suddenly my way?
Two geese a-walking
And their really slowly walking
I am thinking they are stalking
But I try to ignore them
As I am quietly walking
Into my phone I am talking
But I fear they’re still walking
And at me they’re really gawking
I am getting nervous
This song is not so funny
And it’s not even x-mas
Please I try to hurry
And not much to worry
Then i start up running
Are they still me following?
In self-pity and doubt I’m wallowing
Are they going to kill me
Am I going to be their dinner
But I don’’t eat meat
So it’s not a good defeat
I can clearly see it
Just some bones soon left
Then I run even faster
Maybe try to out last ‘em
Now this road is ending
No more time for me spending
On this stupid poem
Which turned out to be a song
With the two of birds
Birds of something something
Of the two geese a walking

Out there, into the Wilderness

“To put it rather bluntly, I am not the type who wants to go back to the land; I am the type who wants to go back to the hotel” Fran Lebowitz

Out there, into the Wilderness

Urban nature
What a wild creature
Concrete, asphalt
Dog poop on the sidewalk
Grass may look green
But everyone has seen
It was spray painted
To keep it untainted
And just as a feature

Nothing quite like
The smell of petroleum
In the early morning
When riding that bike
Or taking a hike
Though fair warning
Try to avoid stepping
Onto the tossed wrapping
Made of aluminium

Reaching the heavy trafficked streets
Listening to the musical feats
Of the car horn section on the right
The jackhammers creating the beats
People shouting in chorus
Day feeling more bright
Like your name was Doris
Crossing the street at red light
Just for fun not out of spite

Come late evening
Walking through the darkened park
The streetlights broken
Someone a lurking
Deep in the bushes
Not at sea, so at least no sharks
Your pace fastening
Trying to be cunning
Then almost running

Finally arriving
To the safe haven
Entering the doorway
You realize you’re not in Norway
From the lack of pine trees
Rather the sweet smell of pee
Greeting you, making you sneeze
Not the perfume of choice
But it could be worse?

Phone Home, or ?

“Our daily lives are so mundane, we get taken over by what is immediately in front of us and we don’t see beyond that” Benedict Cumberbatch

phone-home

Phone Home, or ?

A dialer device
From a different era
Had to suffice
Let me tell ya
An analog connection
No visual perception
No texting
Sure no sexting
Just a calling machine
The only mean
For ancient times
But oh how time flies
Now we all have
A mobile device

Que Sera, Sera

Camping in style

“When camping, do it in style, camp style” Gun Roswell

Camping in style

When the bug hits you
It’s not so easy to refuse
When the great open wide beckons
It’s really the time to reckon
Whether to pack for a trip long
Or just a few days going strong
Camping can be cool in a van
But a trip on a bike
With just enough gear to hike
Beats the mundane bed
When sleeping on the ground instead
But the ultimate luxury
For a weekend trip on a hurry
Is a caravan from the beyond
Call it campy camping fun
But the looks received will secure the pun
In a seventies vehicle
Of a trip quite memorable

Black Friday – The Finnish Way

“I hope your Black Friday injuries aren’t so severe that you can’t click a mouse on Cyber Monday.”

darkness-2

Black Friday

“Bright light, bright light!”

“Oh my God, what is that?”

“Holy hell, is it a flying saucer?”

***

The masses had come out from their homes and workplaces staring and pointing up at the unidentified bright light high up in the sky. Some rumours had circulated, stating Finland had fallen under attack by UFOs.

In the corner of the street, a lonesome believer was preaching:

“The end of the world as we know it, is upon us!”

That day, was the first day of the month March.

***

Several months earlier:

darkness

It was the beginning of October. The land had fallen under darkness. As if an evil warlock had cast a spell. Sour faces all around, no expressions, as if away blurred. Hardly any sound could be heard. People on the streets, dragging their feet. The lust for life, all sucked out.
First of March

An unidentified source of light had appeared in the skies.

“The sun”, someone said, as the onlookers stood before her, bewildered.

“It is called the sun” she stated again with a smile.

But the other just shook their heads in disbelief.

Still, turning their collective faces towards “the sun”. And, as by a wave of a magic wand, the crowd closed their eyes in unison and enjoyed that sacred moment. A collective sigh of content was the only sound heard.

For who knew, how long this would last…

light-2

On the edge, or a tall order

“Nothing can save us now, except coffee” Gun Roswell

On the edge, or a tall order

When that specific mood hits
And you are standing on the ledge
Close enough to jump
Take that one final plunge
In good or bad the need of courage
Is like eating a bowl of too hot porridge
Some say it just may
Be that of a one too tall order
Alas a savior at hand
Just there, were, you stand
A tall glass of the darkest of liquids
Will never let you quit