Smokey Friday part one

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“It’s always difficult to keep Fridays confined within themselves
…they tend to spill over”
Kai Sinclair

Smokey Friday

Smoke, on the water, smoke, on the asphalt, smoke in the air: That is not fair!

Friday was finally here. A time of joy, a time of parties, a time of all the things you could not do during the week, because you had to get up early and that meant going to bed early… see where I am going with this? Yes it was just that time, Friday, the day, freedom begun.

But as most of us may have feared, the weather gods in their great wisdom, had decided our fates to follow an other path. The cold damp outside, just made you want to stay indoors, close the curtains, cover the doors. Light up all the candles… oh this was certainly a scandal!

Continued in part two

Smokey Friday part two

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“It’s always difficult to keep Fridays confined within themselves
…they tend to spill over”
Kai Sinclair

Smokey Friday

Foggy, cold, damp. Do I need to this list add? Oh why was this weather made to last?

I could not wait to get out of here fast!

Staring, at the bright coloured images on the wall, that moment trying to stall. Memories from the year last, were filling my mind fast. Wondering, was it still possible? Maybe if I let something go?

Thinking, thinking, thinking. One more look outside, and there it was: I had decided.

Running into the bedroom, opening the closet door, taking out my suitcase and quickly, not deciding,

taking out some clothing. Sooner than later, the bag was packed. I had just stuff grabbed and now on my way downstairs, passport in one hand, suitcase in the other. Anything else, I could not be bothered.

Calling the taxi, anticipating, blasting, why I had not thought of this sooner.

Never mind, better later I told myself as the taxi arrived and it I hailed.

The door slammed shut, I was sitting on my butt and on my way, where ever, because here I could not stay: preferably sunshine and sandy beaches, as far as the eye sight reaches….

Skeletons in the Closet

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“If you cannot get rid of the family skeleton,
you may as well make it dance”
George Bernard Shaw

Skeletons in the Closet

I found some skeletons, deep in my closet
I don’t know how they got there, possibly it was a good idea as a deposit
Now, I know this house is old, drafty and has leaky faucets
Yes, and it has caused quite the dent in my wallet

But as you can probably surmise
And imagine my total surprise
When these bones from the past
Out from their hiding splashed

So now, I am sitting on the floor
Carefully watching the door
Hoping to get these bones ridden
To a place safe, secret, away hidden

Unfortunately, at this day and age, I don’t have a time portal
Which could aide me to turn back time and make all normal
Make past things right, to not to run away from the fights
But, now I can only try to hide, that which I once let slide

People in glass houses, should not throw bones
Keep off your microphones and telephones in your own homes
You can never be too sure or safe
So just remember to lock your secrets in a very safe place

Clockwork Apple (one)

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“There’s no rule
that says you have to make records constantly,
like clockwork,
to continue being who you are”
Daron Malakian

Clockwork Apple

Apple

If you’ve eaten a red apple
A hold of you it will grapple
There is no use to struggle
For the Evil Queen known to few
Has gotten, a tight hold on you

apple

Clockwork Apple (two)

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“There’s no rule
that says you have to make records constantly,
like clockwork,
to continue being who you are”
Daron Malakian

Clockwork Apple

Clock

Tick-tock, tick-tock
By the turning, of the clock
This rhyme was meant to shock
But, there really is no plot
If this was what you thought
And this place was not what you sought
Maybe you’ll say “thanks a lot!”
And feeling quite distraught
Never mind, fear not
Added, a few twists and a knot
But ended with this one shot
Neither story, nor plot
So what!

clock

Bitch Perfect

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“I am not trying to give an image of a fairytale,
perfect, everything else,
I am just being myself”
Rebecca Loos

main

Bitch Perfect

Call me the perfect bitch
Or just the worst one you can find
I may be a broom-less witch
But still the best of my kind

You may find me..

Taking flight
In the darkest of night
Or just taking a bus
In the early morning rush

You may see me…

Dancing naked in the pouring rain
Celebrating life to the fullest
Or just having a beer in a dive bar stained
Being one of the people dullest

You may catch me…

Casting the mightiest of spells
Cursing and not giving a damn
Or just talking to my mom on the cell
Just because, I can

Now you may see me…

In a new aspect
As a bitch perfect
Because that is who I am
Just because, I can

women-parking

Friday, the 13th

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“Don’t walk under any ladders,
Don’t break any mirrors,
Don’t spill any salt,
And don’t walk by any black cats.
Happy Friday the 13th!”

Friday, the 13th

Lock the doors
And shut the windows,
Close the curtains
Because who knows,
What uninvited
Behind them lurks!

Switch off all the lights
Under your beds go hide
Better fright than flight

Just because today,
Is Friday night
Of the 13th kind!

friday-13th

Happy Friday The Thirteenth!

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Happy Friday The Thirteenth!

“A black cat crossing your path:
Usually signifies,
that the animal is going somewhere”
Groucho Marx

black-cat-bw

One Day in December for Freaky Friday

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“December’s wintery breath is already clouding the pond,
frosting the pane, obscuring summer’s memory…”
― John Geddes

One Day in December

one-day-1

The early morning light in the eastern horizon, in the colour of brightest red and powerful, like a wild fire, gave the villagers quite the scare. It had been a long dark period after the colours of fall had faded, but they had expected the dark times to last at least several moons over, before the light bringer would once again light the fires up in the North, indicating start of spring.

Gathering into the village centre, whole families and their pets, standing there, staring in awe at the fiery sky. No sound was heard, apart from the roars of the winds in the near forest. Then, the eerie silence was broken. A bang on the ground of a heavy object being dropped followed a squeaky voice:

“Ragnarök!” she shouted pointing at the sky.

The other turned at her, looking and wondering what the village oldest woman was on about.

“The war is coming!” she kept looking at the skies.

“War?” someone from the crowd dared asking.

The old woman nodded and kept looking at the skies, “Yes, the war”, she simply stated. Then sighing, she looked back at the village, who had their eyes turned to the old woman, clearly gone mad or delusional.

“What war is that?” a man questioned her.

The old woman stood silent for a moment before she responded.

“The war of the ages, the war between good and evil” she whispered under her breath and then turned towards the others, “Armageddon!” she half shouted.

“Surely, you are mistaken?” the man continued and hesitated for a moment, “Maybe we have miscalculated the passing of time and the springtime is upon us?” He turned toward the others nodding as if getting the others to go along with his assessment.

But, the others were looking worried and starting to realize, what the woman was trying to say. That the old fairy tales, passed on as folklore. Bedtime stories told by parents to scare the children to do their bidding, may now have become true.

“Ragnarök”, the old woman just stated silently and once again turned her face towards the reddening skies.

ragnarok

To be continued

Polar Night for Freaky Friday

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“Could you like chill for a sec?” Freaky Friday The Movie

Polar Night

ff_darkness

Presently:
“Darkness surrounds us.
There has been no spec of light for months, or possibly hours?
I am not really sure. All I know, is, that I have lost all track of time.”

Before:
In the darkness we lived for a long time. But then, “It” appeared.
A round object, in the darkest of skies. Super moon, they said. It will bring us light, they said.
Some speculated of another, possibly even more powerful, than the first one would exist.
Apparently, the objects did not appear at the same time, rather the other would disappear as the other’s time, was to shine. The more sceptic ones believed the tales to be told by fools, who had their heads in the clouds. The only thing proven to exist, was the darkness and its shroud.

Presently:
But, for now, we could only hope the tales were true, as we go on without dark little lives.
And daring to hope, that maybe, some day, the tales told by fools, would bring us the jewels
of light.

ff-full-moon