They’re jumbling
And tumbling.
Tripping over themselves to get out
As soon as that clock hits 3 am.
If they don’t they paint vivid mindscapes
That vanish with the sun.
If they make it,
Well they can assault the senses of those,
Now too few, that read.

My feet are cold and boredom has struck
Along with the big hand on the clock
It screams out “FOUR”
I think it’s in the A.M.

As I wrote to a reader this morning, "I'm an R&M person, a rhyme and meter person (on which I work hard)" Content, form - they go together. This morning's work: which may need working on sometime in the future, natch'

        Vanity Or What? Or Not?✍️

youve once asked me to explain the world to you
and
when i look into your eyes the world is self explanatory


du hast mich einmal gebeten dir die welt zu erklären
und
wenn ich in deine augen schaue erklärt sich die welt von selbst

Do you understand me through what I write?
Do I confuse you or not make sense?
Do you think I can write at all?
Do I express myself well?

All these questions go through my head
When my fingers type and form these words
I try my best, raw and unedited

Creative, imaginative, real feelings
Unscrambling from all the crevasses from my brain

Real or fiction
Words become stories
Touching someone’s life
In a positive way

That’s what makes me a writer
Uniquely, in my own way...
(I hope)

Look...here comes Spring!

sweet scent in your nose
balmy warmth in the air

Ah, but then there it goes

Returns...might stay for a day

Leaves yet again as it pleases

that's its fickle way
It's been coming just to tease us

I was in love with a girl once,
she did all the things I wanted to,
she was braver than anyone else,
she was kind, smart, loyal.

She did crazy things,
Was rather outspoken
and every phrase that left
her supposedly "perfect" mouth was outlandish.

She would tell me her dreams,
we'd stay up all night texting,
and she would imagine our lives
together

But the thing about these people
who are perfect, yet completely insane
is that their insanity is toxic
and exposure to it can be too harmful for some

I fell in love with a girl,
she was beautiful, dazzling
All that wonderful sparkly ****.
But she was oh so toxic.

If indeed you were intent
on being real friends,
you have very little evidence
but your word to show it.

The only time we talk
is when I start the conversation
or you like the fact that my dads cake read:
"Happy Birthday, you old ****"

Even then, all I get is
Haha, thats brilliant
And what am I supposed to reply?
I don't want to look needy, so nothing.

Maybe if you took
your head out of your ***
And thought about what I've done,
and been there for you,

then you wouldn't be so rude.