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?
I hear your loud words,
I see your rigorous slides,
Your expensive material is in front of me
I feel scientifically invaded.
Your childish opinion is everywhere
Taking over the space and the mind
Yet my idea is better.
Small in its corner,
It ripens to perfection
And its time to bloom is behind the corner.
I am swimming in your words
Though they come through a chord
From far far away.
The flow of information
Is no Caribbean sea that lulls me
And sustain my body.
I am drowning in your sentences
And only imagination
Lets the time pass with no effort or mark.
The talent of listening
Can be trained and domesticated
Giving us the possibility of enjoying
The efforts of others.
Listen to their stories
Or think about yourself and your daily struggle
Until you find yourself daydreaming
And time has passed.
Lost in the books
Swimming through the pages
Breathing my notes
I oxygenate the mind
To draw the contour of a future experiment
And isolate the daily adventures to give it life.
I look forward
And start the Xmas tree
Two months in advance.
Being prepared is crucial
To give and obtain the most in difficult situations.
I listen to the marvelous details of politics and cars
While I warm up with a coffee
Sitting and listening.
Day after day this is the taste of my coffee
That would be sweeter
If handcrafts and holidays were the topic.
Holding my shoulders tight
In the foggy late evening
I look behind
And every little act seems far
Yet crucial and painful.
The bonus ahead promises a rollercoaster
Of laughters and jumps forwards
To write a new chapter.
Patience is the unreachable
At the end of the project.
When you have it at your belt
Every obstacle is a small bump
On the road to the entertainment
Only life can provide.
Organizing a meeting
and fearing its waiting,
Its notes, its pauses,
And my duty to speak
Of minimal details assuming monstrous importance
While life goes by.
A General uneasiness takes me
In this situation of peace and boredom
But the reason is unknown
And the real laughter is hiding still.
A manuscript is sent
And the waiting begins
Until the judgment is transformed
In lessons for the authors
And the discoveries are sent
To the world
Like tiny helping hands.
Task after task
The boredom sets in,
The brain struggles
And the mind goes on strike.
The headache jumps up as an indicator of personal inutility
And a push to identify our passions
And our true colours.
At the end of the table
The wise sits in silence
Observing and staring
Those who nervously run
And show their plumage.
Giant and buffing the monster has me
Again at the door of the achievement.
His presence fills my room
And lays imperfections on my slides
Of no importance
While others breath freedom.