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No more clouds only sun
No more sorrow only fun
No more clouds only better
             Tomorrows
Dark clouds was casting over
              Me
It felt like the world in chains
No more pain
Only better tomorrows
All the rain washed away
I dried my tears
Hoping for better years
No more clouds
Only better tomorrow’s
No more clouds
The victor triumphing recounts
(lest pride should mar his fame),
“It’s not to win or lose that counts;
it’s how you play the game.”

But losers, when they drown their shame
in truth-provoking *****,
will groan, “**** how you play the game:
it’s whether you win or lose.”


----------------------------------------------------
Cop­yr­igh­­t 2025 by Jon Corelis

joncorelis.com
As I walked in that blurry street,
I kept looking at my feet;
No one noticed the lights were out.
Or was it only me on this lonely route?

I kept walking even though,
I had second thoughts,
Even though I had no more words;
Where did my words go?

Everything felt strange!
Even the weather started to change.
Usually I'd see more people,
But on this good day it all felt so unusual.

It felt as though I was being followed,
As if I was being swallowed,
As if my mind was playing tricks on me,
Or perhaps I was going crazy to some degree.

I did not even see it coming,
Everything happened so fast,
I wish there was some kind of warning,
Or a visit from my future-self in the past.

But it all happened too quickly,
And no one could predict it.
Even I did not expect it!
Whether it’d be merciful or grotesquely

...then it hit me...
A mirror cracks loud.
Spiderweb veins split the face,
someone looks away.

Glass falls, catching light.
Tiny suns blink on the floor,
feet step through the stars.

A star drowns in dark.
A shard twitches without wind,
breath locks in the throat.

Teeth bare in the glass.
A crimson smile grins too wide,
the floor drinks its spill.

The spill turns to ink.
Letters bloom where none were writ,
shadows lean closer.

Ink drips from the walls.
Words slither where mouths should be,
a mirror cracks loud.

Emotion Shifts, Then Shifts Again...

P.S. Rest assured, reading this near a mirror is entirely safe..hehe
There we are
Bundles of thoughts and nerves
We plan and script
Burn the midnight oil
Charting paths and mapping
Defining destinations
But then, life happens

And it will

I suppose I could brood
And close tired eyes
Or I could lasso a cloud
And hitch a ride to paradise
Repost
My dorm room was bright this morning. It was disorienting.
The sky outside was a cloudless, striking neon blue.
The air was so crisp and clean, I could hardly feel it going in and out.
It all sparked to create a diffused sense of well-being.

Gone, it seems, were the concrete bunker feels of winter.

There's been some loose talk of ‘spring’ lately—I thought it was fake news—but from my third floor lattice windows I could see what looked like people outside. They were walking in the sunshine, riding bikes, throwing frisbees, kicking ​​hacky sacks, a couple was making out in the grass—it was a riot of activity.

Sunny skiffed out of her room (which looks like a hotel room trashed by some rock star), she seemed lighter than air. Three days ago, she announced there was someone of “particular personal significance,” in her life (translate: girlfriend).
Start the schmaltzy, string-drenched soundtrack—love is in the air.

Our challenge now is to carve out a poised and measured final act to our undergraduate years. There’s a scurrying, cynosure, beehive, hyperfocus to labs and classes, a heightened, almost cinematic quality, as if, up to now, we’ve only been practicing for some undefined ‘real thing.’
.
.
Songs for this:
Daylight by Harry Styles
Ain't Nothing Like the Real Thing by Michael McDonald
Dizzy (feat. Alfie Templeman & Thomas Headon) by chloe moriondo
.
.our cast: A reader once asked, “Who are these people?” (a solid question) So now I do a cast list.

Sunny, (suitemate) 21, a (pre-med) molecular, cellular, and developmental biology major, is a cowgirl from Nebraska (seriously, she has a quarter horse and barrel races). She’s an outspoken fem-facing ladies-lady.

Your author, a simple, multinational, upper-crust, trust-fund baby from Athens, Georgia who's also a molecular biophysics and biochemistry major (pre-med).
Skiffed = narrowly missed hitting someone.

BLT Merriam Webster word of the day challenge 04/01/25:
Cynosure is a person or thing that attracts a lot of attention or interest
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