You don't know me

I don't know you either

Not yet.

Who are you?

What's your name?

A few years ago

we might have met

on a square

in a pub

at a football match

or

somewhere on the street

or maybe not

Where I walked around

maybe you walked around too

But I didn't know you

or was busy with other things

or you were busy with other things

and didn't see me

or saw me and thought:

He's old, dumb, too stupid

Or we never met

Why would we.

Many pass each other by

and have nothing to do with each other

But it could be

that we got to know each other

and became friends

just like that

because I found you nice

or you found me

What did we do together?

Some things

many things -

maybe

But we never met.

Or did we?

Just a thought:

What would be different

if we had planned

to climb a mountain.

Together.

Maybe that's not a good example.

To climb a mountain together

you have to know each other better

Let's say we had a drink

in the station pub for example

at the bar.

And I had asked you what you do

and you asked me what I do.

Could be.

Would anything be different?

Could be.

I might have missed my train

because what you told me was so exciting.

What did you tell me that I found so exciting?

Is there something you don't tell anyone else

Not even your friends?

How you are

what you do

what you think.

I have no idea

what it could have been.

But it must have interested me a lot

otherwise I wouldn't have missed the train.

Unfortunately I didn't meet you

there at the station

and we didn't come up with a plan

to do something together.

Maybe you would have asked me:

What do you do?

And I would have told you.

And you would have found it somehow interesting.

Later we could have met often

or we met

whenever I was back in town.

If you wanted

or

if I wanted

And once, much later,

we climbed a mountain together

You happy and with strength ahead

I a bit out of breath

but at least

Did it change anything in my life

this friendship?

For me?

For you?

Whoever I'm friends with

that always changes me

because then I want to be like you

and maybe you a bit like me.

We tell each other what we like

or what we never wanted to do

but did

what we wish for

and what we avoid like the plague.

Friendship. Something always rubs off.

We didn't meet.

That's a shame.

For both?

For both.

But we can imagine

we were friends.

That would be nice.

What we imagine

can already be something like friendship.

You don't know me

I don't know you.

Not yet.

But in our heads

we've long since met.

Whether a friendship will come of it?

Who knows.

Maybe in a few years

I think

if I'm not too old

we could meet

and talk about our friendship.

And laugh.

Find it funny

because we haven't seen each other for so long

and

tell each other how it was...

That would be exciting.

I'm looking forward to it already.

I am me and you are you. I stand here, you listen to me. If I want to know something about you, I'm pretty much at a loss.

If you could stand here in my place, quickly I could learn from you what the last years were like, what you had to clear away between your fever dreams and some other things that might make you angry?

Are you cool? Certainly. Always happy? - Certainly not!

You and me - without any nonsense or rubbish, everyone pumps up the tire - too much and suddenly the fun valve bursts

Tricks, that's how it started, frustration, because many of us failed.

You and him and me, all of us came up with a lot of nonsense

The difference - from my point of view is small and mean because no one ever caught me.

How easy, if someone had flashed me, I'd be sitting right where you're sitting now.

Who is cheekier of us two is, honestly, hardly distinguishable.

There are so many thousand things that make me what I am

In a dull parental home, do I stay in there? Do I flee from there? If false friends betray me? Do I play along and learn to lie?

And suddenly, what rolled over me, I do only what I never wanted.

How easy, if someone had flashed me, I'd be sitting right where you're sitting now.

Hard to understand what is just and who understands my offense and the why and these things that I often confuse...

If you wanted to speak here in my place now, quickly I could learn from you what the last years were like, what you had to clear away between your fever dreams and some other things that might make you happy?

The good thing is when I recognize that I'm only running against walls, yes, when I have to say to myself: Damn it! Finally! Stop!

I can steer the cart differently. I just have to rethink a lot

There's a lot to be said for it ... A piece of paper helps me with circles, squiggles and in columns, to hold something with a pencil and sort the thoughts that have been frustrating me for a long time.

Often it becomes a slam poem because it's nothing else.

Not just to pass the time for you, anyone can write a slam poem, it helps to thaw a little and at the same time reduce frustration

What I haven't easily achieved so far, the slam poem, might help me, when playing with the ideas, I can understand some things better, these are sometimes those things that maybe give us pleasure.

What I wish for, in secret, I write down, in twenty rhymes. What you think, you can also condense super easily in plain slam verses.

Because I am me and you are you. I stand here and listen to you. How nice when you entertain me and tell me something about yourself...

That's very exciting. And then what? We start something together. It's great, so good and how - Have fun with our poetry.

How should I know what I think

The first lines are the title of a book about brain research by Franca Parianen. She picked up thoughts by Heinrich von Kleist: On the gradual completion of thoughts while speaking

How

should I know

what I think

before I hear

what I say?

do I know

what I think?

do I think

what I say?

why should I think

what I hear

or

say what I don't know?

I look into your eyes

I hear your voice

I think OF YOU

but - do I really say

what I mean?

what do I mean?

What I heard about you?

or what I see

or feel

often I think

what I don't hear

and see

what I will never know.

so:

when I see you

do I know

what I think

and hear

what I feel?

aha!

what I feel

do I hear

or at least think

what I hear

or do I only see

what I feel?

Crazy.

I look into your eyes

and see what you feel?

I feel you

when I hug you

but,

I don't see you!

when kissing -

Do I see you?

I don't see you.

I close my eyes

so I can feel you better

I don't see

what I hear

I often can't hear

what I see

and what I smell?

I can't hear that

can't see

can't feel

or all together?

Do I hear

what I smell?

no

do I see

what I feel?

yes?

often?

always?

sometimes?

never?

and what I taste?

that's a smelling

and feeling

together.

do I taste you?

I hear you

I see you

I smell you

I think of you.

do you still feel

or do you already see?

do you only hear

or do you already think?

of me?

do you think of me?

One who thinks?

Does he feel more?

or less?

Does feeling help thinking?

Or?

Thinking while feeling?

Crazy

When I see you

I feel what I think

or

do I think

what I feel?

Complicated!

A hug is

when I feel

hear

smell

the scent of your hair

your skin

or

when I see you

do I then feel

what I hear?

do I smell

what I see

or?

Until now I always thought:

what I see

I love

what I hear

I can feel...

No?

Tell me,

how it feels

for you.

Do you like me?

When you hear me?

When you see me?

Everything is so simple

yet

it's all so difficult

or?

how

should I know

what I think

before I hear

what I say

I hear

I smell

I see you

and you me

you me

I you

then I know

what you think

and you

what I think?

really?

How do I know that?

I know nothing.

Nothing of what

you think

I know

Sure.

I suspect

I guess

it could be

but know?

I know nothing!

And you?

Do you know

what I think?

Yes, you feel.

You suspect.

But

do you really know?

We both don't know

what we think of each other.

That remains secret!

Why is that?

Maybe because it would be boring

if we knew

what you think about me

and I about you

where would be the

tender guesses?

The hope?

The trust?

The salt in the soup.

You see me.

but

do you look at me?

You hear me

but

do you listen to me?

You think something about me.

What could that be?

I'm not in your skin

and you not in mine.

Your eyes look

into my eyes

and yet

I don't see

behind them...

luckily?

Luckily.

If I knew

what I don't know

would I be happier?

How should I know

what you think

before I hear

what you say?

and then?

I don't know either.

Nothing is more beautiful than

a dream

I can't grasp it

it's fleeting

so it is with affection

I can't hold it

it buzzes around us

it's like a scent

do I know

what I think?

do I hear

what I say?

When you hug me

isn't that so important?!

I believe...