Thoughts and flowers from the lab
The year starts dark
And cold on my face
While you sleep sweet.
Tiny and helpless in your bed,
You father your strength and fearless explore and learn each day.
Brave, yet a baby,
Curious, yet checking on mum,
Each day you grow away
And into my life.
i hear my heart screaming
And my mind shushing it
With no respect.
Timid and true
The heart keeps silent
And the show goes on.
I am surrounded by balance
With a under loud core.
True to myself,
I open the valve.
Your body whispers
A break is needed.
Reluctant and fearful
You move your body
while your mind conputes
and forecasts experimental results.
The coffee is warm
Yet fades quickly
In the run to a career.
Escaped from the lab coat,
Devoid of ask analytic tools,
I dive into the garden
And let geometries of leaves
And flying perfumes surprise me.
They narrate a story
Written only for me
That will take me away
For the most precious moment of the day.
Refill these hands
That worked hard and bled today
To add beauty and respect
To old clothes.
Hands not smooth and not shy
That travel quick through the stitches
And join the borders of a hot Sunday.
Give them water, a shake, and a rest
In your lap
Until fresh again.
What hides in the grass
Grown in this day of transition?
Fruits like Easter eggs
Are hard to see,
Yet precious and rewarding
For the eye of the naïve.
Work, health, friends, emails, future plans
Are ripening hidden in the green
Of hope and routine.
The duty and the honour
Of working and walking
While all i see
Is time going by
With no flavour.
Patiently i shout and consider
Possibilities and present chances
Inventing a new setting
For me, for us,
Where time is only in the background
And not so abundant.
My stomach a fist
When entering the door
Of predigested decisions
And bland ideas.
The tiny speckle of hope
And possibility of self expression
keeps me going
In and out.
I twist my time
Advocating for everybody
Ok this synthetic office chair.
I forget my story,
While I actively and furiously write it
Reach moment.
Frustrated by inaction,
I surrender to fantasy.
Get up and get inspired
In this opaque autumn day
That has nothing reserved in its poor pockets
Just for you.
Grab these dead red leaves
And colour your way to work.
Get spinned by this wind of change
And hold on
To those who know love.
Wine is in my hands
On a Friday with rain
And my heart jumps of joy.
Love and company,
Foods and future,
Plans and relaxation,
Joy is when the opposites meet.
Days and years in and out of the lab
Are now a story and a small contribution
To a vivid community
Of hunters.
Scientists share and compete
Building a petia and a better world.
Three tiny suspension points
Keep me hanging from a finger
From my desk.
The text was succint
and the short sentence closed
By a point
But i cannot find the real meaning
That those carefully chosen words
Hide.
Even this tiny mirror
Can entrap my pride
When choosing what to do
And, this way, be.
Like milestones on the long road,
It will return me the truth
Regularly and unasked.
I march unnaturally
And the strength is artificial
When fighting is not a choice
but the only solution.
I March stiff and serious
For what will come through the door
And not only my body will be overdressed,
Yet judged.
My story is apparent
On the skin of my willing hands
And on the edges of my smiling mouth.
I have written thousands of sentences,
Yet none is enough
Or necessary.
Add a stroke of pink to your writings
And a curl to your Ts and your Is
When the window is closed
and no escape can be found.
The head down on the white paper
Can imagine a world of fun and flowers
With exercise
Even In a grey cubicle.
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.
I caress my petals in the sun
And embrace the astonishing landscape
Of water and mountains
Dotted with white fluffy sheep
With short memory.
I turn and stare absorbing the energy
Irradiated
And keep it within.
It has a warm price
The recognition of your work by a friend.
Work talks stay at work
And the focus is down to that stained bench
That stores your weapons and your solutions.
