Like a panoramic balcony
Or a fast black bike,
My zone fits me.
Pins my feet down and my fingers up,
While my thoughts travel and evolve
Planning my version of my future.
It has a fresh breeze
Even when indoor
And always has a START sign.
Science meets poetry
Like a panoramic balcony
Or a fast black bike,
My zone fits me.
Pins my feet down and my fingers up,
While my thoughts travel and evolve
Planning my version of my future.
It has a fresh breeze
Even when indoor
And always has a START sign.
I wish i could touch
My life through the passing landscape.
Just through my eyes,
The story unrolls
And leaves no mark.
It is not forgotten
What made today singular
But not material
And only mine.
i hear my heart screaming
And my mind shushing it
With no respect.
Timid and true
The heart keeps silent
And the show goes on.
I am surrounded by balance
With a under loud core.
True to myself,
I open the valve.
Repurpose and relocate
Ideas and memories and free that space.
Push hard and lean forward,
Roots will break
And be reborn on the first day
of unexpected sun
To hold you strong
And let you live out of balance.
What hides in the grass
Grown in this day of transition?
Fruits like Easter eggs
Are hard to see,
Yet precious and rewarding
For the eye of the naïve.
Work, health, friends, emails, future plans
Are ripening hidden in the green
Of hope and routine.
Stepping in the icy air,
This Christmas hours my face
And wakes the memories
Of a whole year
Up.
A mosaic of feelings
and events to drop in silence
Lay behind the steps made
for the future.
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.
The lounge dream around my feet
Is thick and solid
And keeps annoyances and doubts
at bay.
I draw it each day
But vanishes during the day
Under the lightning of others.
The market is sometimes hard to find
In the big bag.
The struggle is to simplify
Spotting what makes a true difference
From what makes naturally chaos.
Zooming out of the daily vibrations,
The value of affection and loyalty
Comes through the days of silence
Empowered and solid.
The little noise repeats itself
And pushed me to the ground
At the of this day of no events.
A letter, a comment, a wish
To keep private
To be me.
I have removed you
Grin your crystal pedestal,
Stupid thought of the perfect body weight.
I freed space and feel lighter,
Feelings of acceptance stepped in
And a realistic daily plan.
Consistency and authenticity
Border the road
Where I roam apparently free.
Direction is forward
On the long term,
But today i will go sideway
And free myself
From the restrain of the map
Of a well accepted career.
On the sunny grass,
I refuse to count the minutes
And abandon myself into the light
And into this book with potential.
In a cone of rays,
Life seems logical
And nature an expected component,
Fast from the arrogant asphalt
Of home.
My story is apparent
On the skin of my willing hands
And on the edges of my smiling mouth.
I have written thousands of sentences,
Yet none is enough
Or necessary.
Now you can see me
And include me in your plans
Of succulent dinners and unreachable offices.
I will embrace your plan,
Obscure and personal,
Until we stand on a higher rock
And I will see what the horizon holds.
Rushing to the train
Is an art on its own
That only with intelligence you can master.
Quick and instinctive my steps
used to accelerate behind the illusion
Of being the first.
I was crashed and let alone on the track.
I learnt too appreciate each step
That with consciousness I stamp on the ground
And can guide myself faster to the station.
One click is one situation
I wish to remember and store.
Digital data take on the value
Of vibrant feelings and dear persons
Condensed in a limited second.
No more foggy memories and personal additions
To the story.
Waterproof and windproof I sail out
Feeling a fearless warrior and sneaky cat
in my soft belly.
An army of characters and attitudes
Populate me and take shifts
To go through this Monday
And to make it glittery and eye-catching
Like that romantic movie
On the big screen.
The answer to your shaking
Sits patiently hidden
at the bottom of those drawers
Or in the farther of the thoughts.
You have attended all tasks in sight for today
But cannot sit still and breathe.
Running in the wheel and digging
The missing piece emerges
With what has to be done
To feel worthy and complete for today.
I am grounded by the drops
Of this rain with no reason
And purpose.
It is regular, yet unexpected and comfortable
Like a familiar face
that left long time ago
And is now back to wake you up.
I sit in this train
Fruit of mechanics and engineering
But today Full of eccentric lifestyles and meaningful missions.
I am Searching through the window mine.
The wild and the human concrete
unroll with regularity building expectations
And suspense for the ending
That has not been written yet.
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.
Noise and broken sentences
Crawl in my mind
Worrying why the job I used to enjoy
Is now a reason off dark dreams and tears.
Have I seen a part of it that disgusts me?
Is it just this broken environment I am in?
Is it inside me? Is it the situation?
I reject the whole package
And my life gets impossible,
and gets on.
My skin is soothed
With creams and ailments
I carefully spread at night.
The armour is on
And the shield risen towards the coming sun.
Unreasonable demands and chaotic requests
Are bounced back by the integrity
of the protection I am wearing
And space is created inside and outside of me.
I have no idea of what power
Is pulling the sun up today,
Across a deserted sky of summer loneliness.
I can estimate that strength
And find carefully inside myself
To push myself through the chores
Of the office, of the hobbies, of the marriage.
Humans have failed
As social animals
And lonely enjoy now
The pungent flavor
Of personal success.
Alone with their own rules,
They select and analyse
Components of the same herd
Whole convinced of traveling alone.
The static office
Leaves little room to the spacious personalities
of its inhabitants.
Little ants with black backs
Collect and reposition
Inert Objects within a superior map.
Protected by their hard exterior,
Their inner stay sky might remain untold
But always at reach.
I will not stay awake
Or feed on chocolate
Examining your assumptions
And what is expected from me.
I will love in pajama
Inside
And cuddle my desk and computer
Like a lover does
To support and let the best grow.
Repeat and renew
Is a motto for work and for life.
Myself, my interests, my failures
Are resurfacing over and over again
In the cyclical time.
I run naked to complete this routine
Consistent with who I am,
Yet new and innovated
To move ahead.
Politicians discuss for living,
Magicians disappear for amusement,
Bakers burn for flavour,
And scientists struggle for progress.
Few hours can feel
Like a whole expedition
And I now, tired, vanish
blending in the night.
Releasing control,
My head wonders
Happy like a child
At the end of the day.
The synthetic smell of rain on the asphalt
Will stay with me today
And remind me of the aggressive civilization
I belong to.
No flowers of green
On the way to work
To greet my struggled motivation.
What went wrong can be fixed,
Feelings of inadequacy
Linger in the air.
I opened today the door
To trust and uncertainty
To give a chance to a future
I cannot imagine.
In every lab,
Peers and rivals
Put their word in the closing sentence
And hold shaky hands
in times of indetermination.
Small icons summarize my feelings
In strings of text
Become insufficient.
My complex emotions
are condensed in a single character
In an instant
While the time spent to process them
Becomes the real value.
I sit today
Alone and not lonely
Like a modern woman searching
and possessing her space.
Overqualified and clearminded
Are just traits she shows in her work,
Selected between being a romantic, traditional, and self-doubting.
We are filled and addicted
by the sleepless media
And induced to Compete for the best work
And for the best life in picture.
Looking outside to monitor the others,
Loser of the losers,
I waste my day and my attention
Running blind to a nowhere.
Tired of wearing my armour,
I rest careless on this wooden chair,
No care for winners or losers
But only for safe guardians
Of the everyday life.
Another day is over
With no fresh scars on my body
But invisible dry marks
Close to the heart.
Could it be true
That even after yes you are
Never too old for being nervous.
No matter the big tools in your luggage
and the tricks yours hands know,
When the future knocks,
The stomach is a stone
That keeps you going
Nevertheless.
The cycles of life
Repeat and renew
Leaving a scar and a nod.
A cycle for a new job,
A cycle for the true love,
A cycle to acquire confidence
And enjoy it for a while.
Each time you are thrown
Into the stage of new circus
And wonder when the next cycle will start.
Majestic are the little things
That Each day I do not expect
And encounter behind my door.
A regular life
Dotted with tiny adventures.
I let myself get surprised
By the man whose past nobody knows
And by the driver who takes the bus through the city
With shocking pink nails.
A smile is behind the corner,
A story is sitting nearby.
The prism of science
Gives a rainbow of molecules
and active proteins
That together build the unimaginable.
Impossible to fully understand or draw,
This panorama fascinates me
As every inch hides a temperamental player.
Reality hits you
like a pan on the face
when you walk quietly home
or wait for a bus you do not care about.
You will feel its hit
making your eyes wet
and a sad version of your your future
come into focus.
Your legs will rebel and you will search for alternatives
from that moment on.
Reward me with a tea
Made from free mountain herbs
For my independence.
Return my kindness
With a freshly baked cake
That your hands crafted in liberty.
Move your eyes to follow my anguish
And surprise me with a message
Made of five words that do not rhyme.
Start a movement
and you will never feel in the corner.
The difficulty of looking inside
Is unimaginable
Yet necessary and necessary of training.
My inner voice head to shout
For me to listen
And no volume switch is in sight.
My ear is gentle and too respectful
Of those voices outside
That talk loud over that whisper.