Golden star

I smiling enter the tunnel
of fantastic travels
And uninhibited thoughts
While the wet really condenses around me.
The minutes dilate
And the day got a its golden star
Even today.

Holiday mirage

I count the days
And the minutes seem not passing
To the first day of holiday.
I convince myself that each day is Friday
Yet the story is not finished
And another episode comes with the sun.

Water within

I sip slowlsy this day
made of too much talking
and too little fresh air.
I let no minute pass under my eyes
while the night rises
with its promise of companion and delight.

Poetry jumps

I evade the white sheets
And the pressing characters
That ask for more writing.
No daydreaming is allowed at work
My hands are enthusiastic
And my heart jumps
When the free minutes combine
And the time for poetry comes.
I run, I sweat, I take off
For the holiday of the day.

Multidimensional Poetry

My thoughts travel like envelopes
From my mind through my arms
To the tips of fingers.
I read them out loud,
As only felt words can be,
And they cross the dimension of time
And travel into space
From this grey chair of willingness.

Time pain

As I grow older,
Time seems to accelerate
And Push me aside from the competition.
Valuable minutes are spent
And I do not notice
But I miss them
When alone in bed
I am hurt by what could not be done
today.

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 make this cycle
Consistent with who I am,
Yet new and innovated
To move ahead.