I love the words holding hands
And the sun hitting my keys
When nothing seems to happen
In a world of mistrust
Those Black ants start working
And scribble the life that could be.
Meeting survival
Just let it happen and distance yourself
By flying to the coming singer
And exploring for the perfect Christmas present
Whole they all waste words.
Nod and consider
W what is really important to you
And take notes
To plan your short but dense free time
And your next knitting project.
Word stream
Protracted and diluted
Worth no valid reason,
Your words are losing their power
And you my respect.
Aggressive words
Hide a void intention
I will not favour.
Life advice
I have heard it ten times
Yet it has not changed my life.
That encouraging sentence,
full of wisdom and experience
Cannot effectively transfer its content
Through words.
I will hear it another million times
And it week one day
Enrich my life.
Thanks for the advices
But words can have limits.
Phone call
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.
Communicating for you
Communication appears essential
When what you research daily
is uncommon
and has a shine for your eyes
No other people can see.
Selecting the words is the job
And depicting them in images
Hard.
You will fill the white pages
With memories and sensations
Others live on holidays
And you feel in the lab
When nobody is watching
And your results emerge.
