Coffee is back

Many years as distant friends

have collapsed in a blink

and sank into a hot cup that reassures

my hand and my wild thoughts.

Regret tastes not good

to me and is a dish I do not order.

Even a cup of coffee can be half full.

Just wait

My hand is pink and soft,

It points forward and is ready to grab yours.

Do you see it in this autumn fog?

The orange trees cheer us up when

Ups and downs entertain us

And give us reasons for long coffees.

Chocolate grip

The noise of these data is killing me

One dot at the time,

Shooting on the blank space.

Lack of order and lack of grip

On this rushing days

Condense in chocolate abuse.

Noisy job, noisy pals

I bounce in my day

from a not-so-shy alarm clock

To a vibrating train,

Reaching whistling bus.

Arrived, I am now protected

By peers and furniture.

Only the instruments do not collaborate

And offer me agitation, shaking, bubbling, and stirring

On a silver platter.

Thin grass

My feet are softened by the office

But find a strong support

In this thin grass.

It gives them air and sincerity,

The honesty of plants

And the hope of seasons.

Slow steps to work

No bacteria will make me rush,

No ppt will control my steps

And slowly as a flat balloon

I will slide on the floor

And reach my desk.

The day the rain fell heavily

Walking in the rain I miss my coat,
the white and unbreakable cocoon from the outside
keeps me warm and confident on the inside.
Long sleeves to let the stress and bad outcomes
pour down.

Holidays

Your pipettes are still smoking

And your notes on scrap paper

When the holidays arrive.

A feeling of incomplete and guilt descends

While you leave the long concrete corridor.

your mind rushes

to plan and refine elegant experiments

Not to waste time

While your bikini awaits you.

Grass

In the hard times

Of pressing numeric desires and ignorant opinions,

I find myself dreaming grass.

Extended and surrounding grass

Breaths with me

And cuddle my thin roots

While i gather the energy

for the next tiny personal jump.

My zone

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.

Assault

With hate and empty handed,

I let this nature assault me and invade

My little mental freedom.

The weekend has come,

I am all out and breathing

Away my research voids

And personal strategies.

Breathing out

I pushed myself

And the sofa is far away.

The green around gives a new pace

To my breathing and expectations

For this life

That’s never enough.

Lose control, embrace your music,

Restart fresh each time.

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.

Solo thinking

I am Made stupid by the competition
And the painful comparison
With people by the different talents.
Freedom is in the solo thinking
And in the attention and consideration
For yourself.

Nature WTF?

Needles of rain in a bright hopeful sun
Surprise after a day of struggle
And closing doors on my face.
When you surrender and stop fighting and planning,
Nature winks at you
And pulls tricks out of her bag.

Proceedings and pausing

You can pause for a day, a week,
And nobody sees your standing.
You alone Are creating.
Your mind, your imagination
Is processing yours next steps
And gluing together your achievements.
What comes next is in the picture
But still unfocused
until your superpowers
Are redefined.

Artificial office

Offices should be green
And not show the man-made concrete walls.
Science is asked be sustainable and bio-inspired
As its innovation.
In my structured artificial office no nature
I can imagine
And no physiology is sustained
Enough to start the process
To produce new ideas
Friendly to all.

Window

Tired
Of hearing the’ you can do it’
The’ women can do everything’
But have to struggle more.
Annoyed
By those who give it for granted
And just enjoy your result
Laying on their desk.
Running
Among the comments and assumptions
For my present and my future.
Happy
Of leaving the window a bit open
And enjoying the fresh wind of opportunities.

Share

We all share passions
And eyes looking forward
Although staring at personal shiny targets.
We all share goosebumps
When the future is a tunnel
And its length unknown.
We all share a special hug
That keeps us warm when loneliness strikes.
We will all share our special talent
And hold on.

Monday 2

I take a walk
And hope it lasts so long
As Monday is quickly coming
And I am not ready
For its routine and vanity.
Corner after corner
I prolong this escape
And enough fresh air sinks in
To survive the shock of tomorrow.

Night

Such a long night
Waiting for that line of light
That brings pink and blue shades to the ordinary.
Romanticism and hope
Are long searched for
In flowers and hugs
In events and faces
When cheap and powerful
Only they disclose if
Unexpected.

Rain

In the rain,
The road is clear
and the future seems harmless.
Walking alone does not scare me
If the drops sound steadily behind me.
This wet darkness is comfortable
And hugs me all the way home.

Slope

Standing on a steep slope
Makes your muscles tense
And your mind alert
Yet the direction to take is unclear
And certainly tiring.
Looking down into the ease,
The fear of a quick trip to disengagement
Sets in.
Looking up into the unknown,
Tickles my neurons and starts a small blue flame,
But the climb will make my body sore.

Conference

Research is in your hands,
In your mind,
In your feet.
It takes you traveling in the world of unheard ideas
And to places of gathering
Where running free and drawing visions
Is the rule.