A word game coming from a mental exploration of the word “protein”.
It is still not clear
What makes the centrifuge tilt
And make me question my worth.
Is the centrifuge balanced? And me?
Can i fulfil simple tasks at my age?
Am i again not trusting myself at my age?
The loud noise shakes me up
And the sentences fall void.
My words flow enthusiastic
Telling a topic few appreciate.
The story had little players
With specific superpowers
That secretly touch or lives
In the core moments.
Few days are left
To tell the story of the little protein
That from an egg ended up in the pharmacy
And into my throat.
Small miracle of evolution, I admire you
And love you
For your stubbornness and generosity.
The invisible fragments
Swim free in pure sterile water
Ready for the magic.
The monstrous plasmid is coming
and the reaction will start
Hot, agitated, repetitive.
A single mutation will change the course of the experiment.
A tiny step of in vitro evolution.
Make me a protein today
To express myself in all settings.
I wish for time to make me more resistant.
I demand the stability
In a simple watery situation.
I yearn to be hard-working
And fast reaching
While selecting my companions
For a perfect fit.
Hard life in they lab
Where hard materials and soft dreams
I don’t feel I deserve
Your pastel smiles and encouragement
When my data are a Pollock
And my protocol a rollercoaster.
Be there and keep quiet
To watch the show.
In the middle of the night
I watch my life as a movie
With characters vanishing
And persons acting.
Condensed in a dream,
The countless adventures and challenges
Seem logical and worthy.
Happy and grateful,
I can ready
I contract my muscles
Crunching over control
Of little Excel cells and tiny data points.
The scenario they picture
Is the natural reality
Or the translation of my expectations?
With a joyful papercup of Black tea in my hand
And a backpack of numbers and theories,
I travel through unseen possibilities and questions that hide treasure doors.
The sun has today
A paternal attitude
Coming through in bright spots
To enlighten my thoughts
Of revolutionary science
for a future we can hardly draw
in Black and white.
In the sun,
Calm and covered by a relaxed pale sky,
The lake represents me
A surface of sweet waves
Not higher than a foot
Condenses the life and motion
Under the surface.
Dynamic and cool,
I reach the
The approaching shore and its stony grass.
Hop hop over your accelerating heart,
Hop hop over the dark thoughts of a terrible outcome,
Bounce from idea to conclusion
And have fun
Passing the levels of this living video game.
Fluo colours and sharp edges
Define the levels of no different value
Where you illuminate new routes
After a long time.
Sunny day with a lazy face,
Stand by me and lull me through the hours
Of this nonsensical routines.
The door opens silently
And the imagination escapes
Into the bright landscape
Holding hands with my secret plans.
I am Made stupid by the competition
And the painful comparison
With people by the different talents.
Freedom is in the solo thinking
And in the attention and consideration
I see you love me, science,
Through your perfect curves and colourful graphs
In which support is screamed
About my brave ideas.
I read you love me not
When the night falls
On me alone in the lab
Chasing in a round
The long awaited answer.
I live the paradox
Of being tired by sitting
And being bored by data plotting.
Refusing the surrounding drama
I enjoy my own thoughts and daydream
With my mind as a private cinema.
The echo of clashing experiments
Fills the lab on this windy day.
The dream result
has left everybody standing speechless
And everybody with a broken heart
after days of efforts.
Impulses take over and the youngs predict a ruin
While the seniors know
Another hunt had just started.
An array of emotions
Come and go uncontrolled
painting a day of surprises.
Looking for being surprised
We forget our last steps
And, like a puppy,
Come running to the first compliment.
Sitting in the train
My body moves fast and crosses landscapes of unique beauty
Yet my thoughts are childish.
Proteins dance in my mind
In choreographies resulting in creative applications.
In a line they are a sensor,
Holding hands they foam in a cappuccino
in a circle they are in a brilliant paint
But always making our life more beautiful.
The beauty of proteins cannot be stopped.
Good day today
When little satisfactions
Fall like petals in a spring morning.
The skills you forgot you had
And the good spirit
Dresses each moment with a smile.
The horoscope was positive.
Cross your fingers,
Glance at the stars,
Start with the right foot
To find luck when you are the only player.
Turn the situation
To the sunny side by
Standing strong on your sense of humour
And critical thinking.
Scatter on the paper
Those ideas and thoughts
that kept you awake.
Poke your inner child
and put them in graphics
With simple lines and basic colours.
A sentence of seven parts
Can delineate your message.
I know the theory very well,
What to is best to say
How to stand
And the way to behave.
Theory will give it all to me,
But it does not feel right.
I will find the theory for me
Maybe no career, maybe only truth.
I have only short fingers
To tell my story
And type passionately this night.
In this short distance,
All life condenses in drops of memories
And vapour of lost kisses.
Short words will be ideal
To write those heavy memories,
The persons that can only be remembered,
And the baby steps I climbed
And now behind my back.
You start to see patterns
In front of your eyes and in your life.
What in the lab perfectly fits
Is chaos and uncertainty for the heart.
Those words that hurt
Can only be approximated
To a less painful sentence.
A mute film goes on in my mind
Where the next experiment is enacted
And proteins jump and roll
Under the perfect light
On the thinnest of the cellulose fibres.
The behaviour is unpredictable,
A moody twist of the binding
Produces a loss and a dramatic inactivity.
The tiny acrobat has fallen
But not without living an imaginary event
Of high potential for science
And of fascinating cartoonish drama for me.
Like a movie with no sound,
The stories unrolling in the lab
Are told by gestures and frantic moves
Pulling papers and plastics in the air.
The dreams of science
Are in squared frames
Hanging behind the door
But always lit in the heart of a scientist.
The laughter is missing
When the hands move quick in the lab
Guided by the uncertainty
Of your recurring dilemma.
Sitting in the back of the mind
That rare possibility is talking to you
As a fresh breeze luring you away
From the routine.
Is a bad behaving protein
hiding a treasure?
A thousand experiments
Are started but might still not convince you.