The Coffee Monster

“The monster in me, before coffee, believe you me, you really do not, want to see” Gun Roswell

The Coffee Monster

In the early morning hours, the alarm went off, waking up, with a large yawn
It was that time of the day, too early to be frank, when it’s still not quite dawn
The darkness, lying heavy and so, are all the eye lids
At this point, when nothing yet works, all you want to do is quit
And then, the monster within, rearing it’s true and ugly nature
Everyone and everything, even the mirror image filled with hatred
Better steer clear of it, or else, some heavy duty shit
Will be thrown upon you, with words, carefully not chosen nor chewed

“Do not speak, do not question
Do not even try to give one single silent suggestion
For this, is the way of the coffee monster
And, as the feelings of evil getting stronger
Until the time of the daily doze
Please, do not, try, to oppose!”

Because, only when the calming liquid has done it’s job
And the changes are so visible, like the turning of a knob
The beast within finally sedated, only smiley faces remaining
You may approach, even join in the early morning session
Of having a cup (or few) of the now, sanctified blessing
But do not think for a moment, that the monster is gone
Because if, heaven for bid, the coffee would be lost, or somehow gone
The monster will return, and this time rest assure
That no one, not a single coffee less person, will be safe!

X-mas x3 I two

“It’s that time of the season…again!” Gun Roswell

X-mas x3

Santa Claus

The long awaited guest for all the families in all the homes
With a reindeer town sleigh ride, promptly, each year, comes
The jolly fat old dude, who is never ever rude
Some might say, he’s afraid of getting sued!

Alas, down the chimney, or even through the conventional door
The presents under the tree soon for every single soul will pour
Dressed in a red suit, seeing him is surely a hoot
But you’ll never see him at his own horn to toot

Anyways, it’s that time of the season
When even a child’s fantasy cannot be a treason!

A Christmas Tale

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times” Charles Dickens

pudding-1

A Christmas Tale or Can I have some Figgy Puddin’, please

The year was 1845. I was about ten years of age and working as a stable girl. Our family lived and worked in Lord Hamilton’s manor house. It was Christmas time and as a gift for the servants, the Lord arranged a feast for the staff and their families.

Mommy had the children dressed in their Sunday best. My two brothers were complaining about the stiffness of the shirts. Starch was itchy and could cause rash, especially if one scratched the itch.
I had my favourite dress on and my younger sister was a bit jealous of the red and green colouring. She was wearing a plain blue coloured hand me down.

After all the fuzz and hassle with the wardrobe, the whole family was finally set to go to the main house and start with the Christmas dinner. Us servants would be dining in the large kitchen. Several long tables were brought in with extra seats as well. This wasn’t a large household. With around fifteen servants and their families, well not all had children and spouses, all in all around sixty people in total crammed around the tables. The two cooks had had their hands full with the preparations and naturally every one that could had chipped in.

But now it was time for celebration. Everyone was finally sitting down and getting quiet. After grace the noise level rose again. Food containers were passed around and everyone was filling their respective plates. After all, it wasn’t often we got to eat in this manner and variety.

After a while, everyone had cleared their plates and it was time for dessert. My favourite was the Figgy Pudding. If possible I opted for seconds. As I got my plate of the delicious substance before me, I licked my lips and dug into it with gusto. It did not take too long for the food to disappear from my plate.

My mom looked at me with a smirk. I looked back at her and passing my bowl I asked: “Is there any Figgy Puddin’ left?”

I was smiling widely, feeling exhilarated, when the bowl was passed back to me with an other helping.

When the final bits were eaten, it was time for the traditional sing along. The farmhand brought out his accordion and after the first few tunes, we all joined in. The evening was spent singing, chatting and finally picking up the tables. We all went back to our dwellings, thanking the Lord for the special meal.

Merry Pudding and God bless us everyone!

pudding-3

X-mas x3 I one

“It’s that time of the season…again!” Gun Roswell

X-mas x3

Elves

Dressed in grey and red, some trying green instead
A neatly stacked row of elves, there, sitting, on the shelf
They’ll come alive, when the clock strikes five
No matter if it’s night or day, the Elves will come out to play

If you happen to catch them in the act, then as a matter of fact
An Elf you’ll become too, at least, for an hour or two
Some say it’s just the holiday spirit kicking in
But you’ll know better, once you into their shoes are stepping in

They might be a tight fit
But squeeze your toes in, they’ll sit!

It’s Friday, the 13th!

Posted in Celebration/Tales of the Odd

“Happy Friday the 13th. Satan just texted me, saying, to watch my back…With a winky face.”

friday 13th 3

It’s Friday, the 13th

The tale told below
Was it based on a true story?
Or just pure fiction?

That, my dear reader
Is for the writer to know
And for you to enjoy!
As I arrived in the office, the place seemed more quiet than usual. At least this early in the morning. Sitting in my seat, pondering, where everyone else were.

No emails, no calls
No contacts at all
Had I mistaken?
Or too early awoken?
Was this a wrong day?
A Saturday, a Sunday?

Thinking about it, the traffic had been oddly light.
Even though it had been early morning time.

After a few hours of waiting in solitude, people I had never seen, entered the room.
Talking in strange languages, sounding like a record been played back the wrong way.
I was observing them. They did not seem to notice me.

Passing me by
Wondering why
Seemed like a dream
So unreal did it seem

I tried to greet one of them. I kept repeating
Hello, hello, HELLO!

But unnoticed
Even by the closest
Visitor did I go

Getting irritated, I did no longer hesitate.
Jumped in front of the nearest stranger.
I did not feel I was in any danger.
Waved my arms and shouted.
Like a mad person undoubted

But nothing, no nothing stirred the strangers.
As if I wasn’t even there…

Maybe, just maybe
I had turned invisible
Or maybe,
It was all, just a dream

After all
It was Friday the 13th!

The Truth Is Out There for TBT

Posted in Throwback Thursday

“Look up at the stars and not down at your feet. Try to make sense of what you see, and wonder about what makes the universe exist. Be curious.” Stephen Hawking

believe

The Truth Is Out There

In
My Mind

Science Fiction
Science Fact
Utopia

The Earth
The Planets
The Stars

In
My Mind

A Galaxy
The Milky Way
The Cosmos

The Universe
The Intergalactic Space
A Void

In
My Mind

A Wormhole
A Black hole
A Singularity

Pi
A mathematical constant
The number 47
A mystery

In
My Mind

Spiraling
With random thoughts
With coherent thoughts

Universes and Worlds
Conjured up and destroyed

In
My Mind

Aliens and
Their spaceships

Humans with
Their flying machines

In the Here
And Now

I am
Peddling
On my Bicycle
The long dark road
A head of Me

Back in Time for TBT

Posted in Throwback Thursday

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

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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!

The Dame and the White Cat for Caturday I two

Posted in Caturday

“When all candles be out, all cats be grey” John Heywood

The Dame and the White Cat 

The dame with her white cat
Stepped in for a quick chat
Sat down and whisked off her hat
Ordered a coffee with milk non-fat

“Good evening dearie”

She said leering

“Nice weather we are having this evening”

That was all she said
Her conversation dropping dead
Just quietly sipping the beverage
As if looking for a leverage

I stood there staring
The silence more than unbearing
Wondering ‘what or who was this stranger
Were we all in danger?’

As if reading my mind
The lady put down the cup
And finally looked up
And with smile made of kind

She stated matter of factually

“I need more cats!”

As ipso facto, this was actually
A store, where one could purchase such things

The Dame and the White Cat for Caturday

Posted in Caturday

“When all candles be out, all cats be grey” John Heywood

Angela,Cat

The Dame and the White Cat 

The dame with her white cat
Stepped in for a quick chat
Sat down and whisked off her hat
Ordered a coffee with milk non-fat

“Good evening dearie”
She said leering
“Nice weather we are having this evening”

That was all she said
Her conversation dropping dead
Just quietly sipping the beverage
As if looking for a leverage

I stood there staring
The silence more than unbearing
Wondering ‘what or who was this stranger
Were we all in danger?’

As if reading my mind
The lady put down the cup
And finally looked up
And with smile made of kind

She stated matter of factually
“I need more cats!”
As ipso facto, this was actually
A store, where one could purchase such things

A Christmas Tale

Posted in Holiday Celebration

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times” Charles Dickens

i01

A Christmas Tale: Can I have some Figgy Puddin’, please!

The year was 1845. I was about ten years of age and working as a stable girl. Our family lived and worked in Lord Hamilton’s manor house. It was Christmas time and as a gift for the servants, the Lord arranged a feast for the staff and their families.

Mommy had the children dressed in their Sunday best. My two brothers were complaining about the stiffness of the shirts. Starch was itchy and could cause rash, especially if one scratched the itch.
I had my favourite dress on and my younger sister was a bit jealous of the red and green colouring. She was wearing a plain blue coloured hand me down.

After all the fuzz and hassle with the wardrobe, the whole family was finally set to go to the main house and start with the Christmas dinner. Us servants would be dining in the large kitchen. Several long tables were brought in with extra seats as well. This wasn’t a large household. With around fifteen servants and their families, well not all had children and spouses, all in all around sixty people in total crammed around the tables. The two cooks had had their hands full with the preparations and naturally every one that could had chipped in.

But now it was time for celebration. Everyone was finally sitting down and getting quiet. After grace the noise level rose again. Food containers were passed around and everyone was filling their respective plates. After all, it wasn’t often we got to eat in this manner and variety.

After a while, everyone had cleared their plates and it was time for dessert. My favourite was the Figgy Pudding. If possible I opted for seconds. As I got my plate of the delicious substance before me, I licked my lips and dug into it with gusto. It did not take too long for the food to disappear from my plate.

My mom looked at me with a smirk. I looked back at her and passing my bowl I asked: “Is there any Figgy Puddin’ left?”

I was smiling widely, feeling exhilarated, when the bowl was passed back to me with an other helping.

When the final bits were eaten, it was time for the traditional sing along. The farmhand brought out his accordion and after the first few tunes, we all joined in. The evening was spent singing, chatting and finally picking up the tables. We all went back to our dwellings, thanking the Lord for the special meal.

Merry Pudding and God bless us everyone!