Slow rise

The sun rises slow

And weak

In the cold mornings of walking solo.

My desk awaits me,

My family demands a warm hand,

My time is split

With sorrow and pride.

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Mixology

I mix my dreams with my loved ones
And try to paint a picture of harmony.
Work and life,
Food and acceptance,
Love and ambition,
Balance and moving forward
Delimit my way.

Crystal

Regular and precise
Like a shiny Salt Crystal
Feel the changes in the air around me.
Melting away I let my energy spread
While strongly I hold on to the skills and ideas
Hiding inside but not vanishing.

 

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.

Mutagenesis

The invisible fragments
Swim free in pure sterile water
Ready for the magic.
The monstrous plasmid is coming
and the reaction will start
Hot, agitated, repetitive.
A single mutation will change the course of the experiment.
A tiny step of in vitro evolution.

Equal writing

Your voice might be short and squeaky
And gently fall prey to louder opinions,
Yet your words are equal.

8 April, 2017 18:06