Science meets poetry
The duty and the honour
Of working and walking
While all i see
Is time going by
With no flavour.
Patiently i shout and consider
Possibilities and present chances
Inventing a new setting
For me, for us,
Where time is only in the background
And not so abundant.
My lips cannot pronounce
The impact of these numbers
But only imagine it and suggest it
With metaphors and little confidence.
Numbers talk to me
And they swirl into a portray of our future
That hardly graphics can describe.
Young woman with a sculptured character
You Prevent me from running blindly
Towards a mirage with a blurred profile
And from grabbing with direct hands my illusions.
You keep me connected
To the world of decisions and actions
Where perfection is unnecessary
And purposes are valuable.
By the water, in the sun,
I draw an imaginary picture of life today.
Balloons of dialogues
And question marks from work
Fill the white populated by the people
Of everyday.
Colours are not sure
But the voids will be filled
And the day will get its tone.
The absurd colours of nature
Ones me with their extravagance and personality.
No such bravery is permitted
In the world of humans.
Homologation as a rule to success
Reveals its limits
In the grey of clothes
And the monochrome of personalities.
Dreaming and thinking
At a double speed
To see yourselves grow
Started you down but seeds personal satisfaction.
Tortured by the question
of who you will become
You embark on a rushed slalom
On a tiny wild canoe
And steer crazy to
Escape the illusion of control.
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
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.
How to, is never a question
When the idea sweeps you away.
Sunny or rainy, cold or hot,
The world
Subsides
And you see only the future
In front of you.
The imagination flies free
And experiments are quick
Telling stories that fascinate the society
And provide talks over the coffee.
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.
Sleepy me,
Travelling through the rain
And wishing a quiet meaningful future.
Yawning nonstop
As a self cuddle available everywhere,
Even on the train.
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.
The days are crowded and futile
But remember to carry your lens
In your personal pocket.
Search the details that hide in the folds
And under the shoes
But define those who think
and appreciate the moments like you do.
Through your lens
Your partners, friends, and lovers
Will shine like under falling frozen snow
And you can get closer with confidence.
The setting is not yours
And the menu has no desert
In this meeting badly organized.
Time passes while you plan your escape
And laugh inside to the crazy adventures
At the limits of the universe our on familiar sunny beaches
you could be living
Instead of answering tasteless questions and listening distractedly.
Details are in the corners
And in the last strokes of the brush
To complete the aquarello
When nobody is watching.
Sitting at the desk
The many experiments transform
Fusing in a single story
Whose last slow details
Make me feel unique.
Clicking frantically
While daydreaming of the perfect experiment
I release the fear of missing out
And of wasting time
Pursuing hypotheses
Of no value.
