Minutes distillation

Sitting and staring at the landscape
I don’t value these minutes
That can hand out joyful ideas
And first steps
For a new direction.
The train accelerates,
I slow down

Parallel sleep

Sunny day and rainless office
Cannot stop my sleepiness.
Private and soft
It draws me to the land
of pink blankets and emerald fields.
I lull in this parallel reality
While the others rush.

Migrant bananas

The tropics are here
In the yellow curves on the table
And in my pocket.
Banal fruits we give for granted,
Travelled in group
Scared and green
To my table.
Like migratory birds at their first adventure,
They matured.

October islands

A pinch of sunlight
Can decorate this Thursday
And mark it as a new memory.
October of sorrow, expectation, and rest
Has now sparks of life
To jump to in the difficult days.

Gorge cold

Invisible and hard,
The cold of this gorge reaches me
And swipes away
the comfort of this Sunday.
Nature touches me
and like a stream Refills my hands.

Yellow bench

Yellow and empty,
The bench stares at the sun alone.
It waits nonstop for a purpose
And yet it is playing its role.

Train travel

On the silent train,
I space-travel and time-travel
With no effort.
The welcoming feeling of home
is left behind in a step
And ne realities kick in
Unlimited.

Flamingo dance

On a foot I cruise the lab,
Walking sideways in a diagonal,
I reach my high desk.
I stretch my neck to discover the documents,
Hiding silent in the back,
While the others follow me
with their eyes filled of water.

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.

Train catcher

Rushing to the train
Is an art on its own
That only with intelligence you can master.
Quick and instinctive my steps
used to accelerate behind the illusion
Of being the first.
I was crashed and let alone on the track.
I learnt too appreciate each step
That with consciousness I stamp on the ground
And can guide myself faster to the station.

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.

Language journey

Proud and waiting for its start,
I take my credit card and promise
To embark on this new journey.
A group of strangers
Are brought together by language
coming from far
but already coming closer.

Music hole

The Black hole is approaching,
Sucking me in with its energy
Of criticism and judgement.
I builds my personal joke
To laugh inside while I agree
To your pointing fingers.
No Black on me but only radiating music.

Train hug

Fast and straight it climbs the mountain
With the lord nose being its motor
And the admiring faces its cargo.
The little train knows its way,
On the tract that forbidden to humans,
And its personality is antique and unique,
yet home to the roaming foreigners.

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.

Illuminated mind

Illumination in the street
Illumination in my mind
Where small restless details combine
And the whole picture
Leads to a treasure.
The map to the discovery
Is old and wrinkled yet always new
And highly personal.

Train commuting

The next station has been called
Once again in this familiar train.
The journey is however different
Each day
With a summary of this local world
On the silent pale faces
And the black dogs
Sleeping dreamy below bikes full of desert dust.

Smile alone

The bitter taste of a laugh
When nobody is happy
Leaves a scar and a hope.
Your happy engine is on
And nothing can stop
its noisy dusty cylinders.

No connection

No signal, alone, no network,
reassure me while moving
through the day.
What is needed is here
and the energy gets lost in the web
of relations and demands.

Single sock

No family can bind you
when alone you travel the world
in search of no place but of surprise.
No friend can tell your story
when the protagonist is a curly
with a backpack full of tricks.

Diary directions

Learning the hard way
And writing its lessons
That hardly persist in the behaviour.
A diary as a manual
With no formulas or perfect fittings
But personalised coordinates for your route.

Morning start

Silently the train approaches me
And the action starts.
The day and its plot are initiated
By my expert and warm gestures
Moving towards the lab.
Everything looks like yesterday night
But a wow is hidden somewhere
Also today.

Science panorama

The prism of science
Gives a rainbow of molecules
and active proteins
That together build the unimaginable.
Impossible to fully understand or draw,
This panorama fascinates me
As every inch hides a temperamental player.

Authentic self

It is running through the crowd
Looking for a too friendly face,
The blame for not adapting.
Too true to yourself,
You refused the rules and expectations
of your younger peers,
Just to be well-defined and authentic.
Time has passed
And your originality is no novelty
To the people that around you
Puff their day away.

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.

Adventure ready

The rays of the early day
And the sweet smell of the morning
Are the perfect sense to the adventure
I am starting alone.
The Luggage is full at the door
And the diary has white pages left.

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.

Personal canoe

Dreaming and thinking
At a double speed
To see yourselves grow
Started you down but seeds personal satisfaction.
Tortured by the question
of who you will become
You embark on a rushed slalom
On a tiny wild canoe
And steer crazy to
Escape the illusion of control.

Pacing heart

The train with its jumps,
The radio with its melodies,
The dripping of the rain
Are all rhythms competing with my heart.
I want to follow you
But you are too quiet
And your hiding in the noises leads me nowhere.
Listening inward
To pace my life.

Foody storm

Apparent control
On the surface of a storming ocean
Is the shakiest way of transport
Through the day.
Like a cat on a sailing boat
I always my eyes are high
To the faraway land
And my heart feels at home
Only when a fish lies in front of me.
Green Food as a panacea to the waves
And the wind
That poke me on the journey.

Migrating every day

Ducks migrate all together
Outside my window.
Remind me of a direction you can only feel
Inside
And an arrival you approach
But might never see.
Eating all together, sleeping all together,
And traveling as a single with others
Towards that destination
Behind the clouds
that you see for the first time.

Reading people

Your words tell me successes
And bravery to launch your career
Despite the critics.
But I can read you.
Your hands tell me fear of the future
And confidence threatened by the established opinions.
I will hold your hand for free,
Not sure if you would return the favour.

Strategy of a failing life tasting

A new strategy of life
tells me to approximate
to be able enjoy the ups and downs.
Nothing is sharp
and everything has a margin of error
To turn the falls into possibilities
and the successes into mere stepping stones.
You survive yet not enjoy deeply
If nothing is enough and
Nothing deserves a celebration.

Publication here

That long time had passed
And what took years to compile
Is now open to the world.
Curious eyes will undress it,
Critical thinkers will hold it
One day maybe against you.
Your hypothesis is breathing
And, alive, it can join other minds
In their travels
Drawing paths in a snowy desert.

Look ahead

Head up, looking straight
I don’t feel the ground anymore
And I am projected in the future.
Motor on, glasses clear,
The gear is ready
But the destination far,
Unknown and magnetic
Pulling everyday one inch more.

Talents and stars

What is special
Is hard to find
And hard to describe.
Personal talents draw for us
The way
Others cannot see.
Under the stars
The way shines
Only for us.

Pushing

Always looking forward and nothing is enough
is the trap that takes the flavour away
from your pizza and the chat with your colleague.
A slow typing day, a smooth never-ending coffee,
and a thorough look out the window
gives the time to breath
and find a new horizon.

 

Lab 2

Transported on four wheels
Towards the place of amazement and rational enjoyment,
Where rigid ideas are tested
By creative minds.
The lab awaits me
With its shiny neon light
And silent atmosphere
For surprising me
Again.

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