Creativity is also creating.. here some snaps of the SHOP, hope you like it 🙂
Getting creative
BOOK on the way
Busy times over there… the poems have been now collected into a book and the cover is almost finished.
Get ready to snoop into it soon. Will it be a single huge book or a collection of 6 episodes?
What would you prefer?
Keep in touch 🙂
Christmas saldo
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.
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.
Zoom out
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.
Repetiton-free
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.
Holiday lapse
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.
Story show
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.
Horizon hold
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.
Photo story
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.
Monday cinema
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.
What is
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.
Rain reason
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.
Multi-tasking
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.
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.
Burning in/out
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.
Energy crisis
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.
Community hypocrisy
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.
Office distribution
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.
Pajama at work
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.
Cycle of this life
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.
Night feeling
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.
Urban travel
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.
Lab team
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.
Emoticons
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.
Working heart
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.
Competition drug
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.
Day scars
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.
No age
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.
Cycle of life
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.
Novels of today
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.
Reality hit
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.
Movement start
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.
Inner shouting
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.
Personal seat
Gracious with your thin arms,
You search your reserved seat
in this world
That makes preferences and fights
personal enemies.
Your request is legit
But the effort is unusual to your muscles
And only time can guarantee you
A fit.
Work expectations
In the dark I wake up
Hoping for a day of laughter and lightness
In front of the screen, behind the cubicle.
Nobody wants to offer their energy to the group
And unconsciously waits for the good Samaritan.
Come to work to get and grab
And not to give
Too much.
You might preserve your inner balance
You lose a day to enjoy.
Bumpy life
In a busy life of words and actions
The difficulty is observing in silence and discovering
What is recurrent.
Randomly bumping the elbows to corners and pains,
We leave a trail that tells our story
And passes often through points of significance.
Few points with value
Are like benches where to feel at home
And safely alone.
Time magic
Let the time pass,
Let your ideas and feelings brew
In solitude.
Time values and discards
Leaving you with a taste of a fantastic present.
Ever-emotional
Gathering emotions and transforming them
In those little wrinkles and kilos who do not leave
Is a tireless job
I seem not to be able to escape.
Making visible what can only be felt
Is a talent of man,
Yet an embarrassing mark.
Game changer 2
The letting go
And the waiting
Are a nice new exercise
To learn the art of living.
What was struggle and effort
Is now attention and observation.
Setting new rules for a new game.
Un-decided
I am hanging confused today
On the brink of a chair
Trying to decide if I am
Dried or energized
By the millions of interactions,
And the instinctual clicks of the day.
On a Friday
Flattened like a pancake,
My brain is resting
After an intense week of experimental living.
The free findings
Opened new arguments
While the story is written in chapters.
Life advice
I have heard it ten times
Yet it has not changed my life.
That encouraging sentence,
full of wisdom and experience
Cannot effectively transfer its content
Through words.
I will hear it another million times
And it week one day
Enrich my life.
Thanks for the advices
But words can have limits.
Day comic
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.
Collect disorder
Variety is the key
To a platform of success and explosion.
No vision can be born
in a repetitive regular setting
With no room for change and surprise.
I collect disorder
and reserve a future I cannot predict
For myself.
Physics of time
It turns and comes back
Today, tomorrow, whenever I watch
This situation of stall
That keeps me wandering and idle.
Time is circular
When problems are involved
And very linear when moving forward is difficult.
Get this physics.
Diapason day
I feel today like a diapason
Vibrating to the light and dispensing
a push to change inside.
Shaken and torn
The others move and progress.
Here I am in the boring train
Vibrating through the night.
No finger coming closer.
How to
Tell me how
To smile without feeling empty
To step up without feeling alone
To express my opinion when nobody is ready to listen.
Teach me how
My idea can become everybody’s idea
And we can enjoy its success together.
Love me how
I have never tasted before
And I will always remember.
Mode of action
It is the right time to switch mode of action
And operate differently
Towards the others and your passion.
Control your hands and weigh the richness of their movements
Not to distract the ideas being born
After so much struggle.
A change of focus is recommended,
While envisioning the future
Illusionary Stability.
Revenge will
Routine and curiosity killed the cat.
After shouting questions falling in thin air
And donating uniqueness to a future not his,
The wise woman sits still and observes the decline.
A million scenarios run through his head
Some fascinating, some of no effort
And tickle his will of revenge
