Sunday at last

Routine tires me and each day
a challenge is born.
Many children follow me around and I chase
them like a cat fireflies.
My energy is fuelled
my smile fed
only Sundays interrupt.

Freedom in a box

The box is well defined
The walls high but reachable,
Yet a fresh air is coming through
And I breath freedom.
I think inside the box,
Generate space and ideas
And opinions and opportunities.

Freedom Monday

A new start comes with the weeek,

open to the world,

my hands still cannot shake friendly or touch.

Limited movements are now spontaneous

and this Monday is a wider beginning.

Women only

The how-to-dos are fixed

In childhood and by example,

Yet fun to challenge.

Why can’t I do it?

I can always do it.

I pay rent, i drive cars and motorbikes,

I have a good salary,

I have an opinion,

My opinion is loud.

Feet on the grass

My coat is hanging in the solitary locker
And misses my action and sweat.
My purple gloves lie lifeless
In a forgotten bin.
I left my exoskeleton and can now freely walk
On the dewy grass.

Out of the labyrinth

Out of the lab and out of my head,

I let the summer absorb me and that childish

smile come back suddenly.

Windows and computers,

Numbers and papers are like walls

in a labyrinth to my TBD destination.

Nature nurture

My normal clothes embrace me,

A scientist in disguise,

And reminds me of the holidays.

Shorts and sleeveless

from the forbidden wardrobe

Give me a brave allure.

Assault

With hate and empty handed,

I let this nature assault me and invade

My little mental freedom.

The weekend has come,

I am all out and breathing

Away my research voids

And personal strategies.

Free speech

I heard you say the truth

In that long meeting of no use

What you really thought

And was hiding behind my ear,

And the room was free.

Forced respect vanished

And my search for the way to

Ended.

Sneaking out

Even today you can

Break free

Through the little break in their attention.

In that second others ignore,

You will change your path

And will never feel

Imprisoned on a sunny day

In a fruitless office.

Marking territory

I yawn like nobody else exists
And my muscles enjoy a little reading
I only know it could feel so good.
In a crowd, yet behaving like alone,
Is the human equivalent
of marking your territory of freedom
And of personal expression.

Cat

It drives me to the edge and stares
At me and my silky pink pajama
Flowing with no respect.
My thoughts fill the void,
Like flowers the gaps you don’t consider,
And freedom is here.

Of me

The skin trembles under the UV-light
At the end of the sweaty experiment.
How much of me is needed
For answering a short question?
In this never-ending hunt?
To be recognized?

Time escape

Rediscover the minutes
Passing unnoticed while you work.
Annoyed by waiting times,
I waste the gift of those small breaks
Daydreaming me out of the lab
And laying me on a silvery beach,
At least for a while.

Window opening

The skyscraper is empty
When the dark falls inside and outside.
Alone at the desk,
Thoughts chase each other
And your will to open that window
Returns.
Escaping or expanding
Towards the new
Is so refreshing.

Empty drawer

What makes you great
might have a dark face
And a spicy story to tell.
All proud speakers
Hide an actor and a drawer of doubts.
My drawer will be emptied soon
Hiding words, arms and paper
And my shoulders will rise
Free to move and energetic like a bird in spring.