Native tears on my cheeks Remind me the struggle and the travel Each day belongs to. Not easy not known It makes me curious like a monkey While time passes sadly fast.
Work passion
No plans, no agendas, no reminders Are needed When work is curious And colleagues are stimuli. Targets are just bites for you Who anxiously dreams how the whole cake will be And how the story will end
Big ideas, small hands
I am a speckle of dust Filled with ambition and clear thinking Shivering its small size. How to translate what is boiling in me Into a recipe and a spoon To feed the curious world?
Future in the rain
Pointy and curious The rain pokes my face Carelessly On a Monday of busy with procrastinating My future. Don’t stop, It keeps me awake and anchored to the present, The only certain thing I have.
March promise
A cold March awaits me With those young pointy flowers that stars at me curious during my walks. A whole brought season in front, The do not look back to the cold winter And happily channel their energy To shine this year. No promised result, no guaranteed next year, only one year more.
Publication here
That long time had passed And what took years to compile Is now open to the world. Curious eyes will undress it, Critical thinkers will hold it One day maybe against you. Your hypothesis is breathing And, alive, it can join other minds In their travels Drawing paths in a snowy desert.
Philosophy
A new philosophy arises On the way to work, On my expectations and demanded achievements. Not every day is a success And I sip frustration even more often But I will keep on working And approach this desk everyday because tomorrow is coming And I am so curious.
First apprenticeship day
I curiously stare the shiny bottles and the silver spoons that on my bench eagerly lie. Alone in the lab I wonder my future and my decisions, everybody says I can do it, I want to believe it for myself, for my tomorrows, for a easier life one day. I thus push myself every single day… Continue Reading →
Alone in the lab
Stars outside sneak through the blinds Curious of my flame. Frenetic and yawning I focus On the fire and on my hands. Tiptoeing among the tubes Double thinking all my movements Rejecting sleep and doubts I slowly proceed.
