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Everything is digital printed on glass by silicon
All analog feelings, a thing of the past
Like a million years ago
And emotions are coal
Buried deep beneath stone
And steel and concrete
Like our bones are
Beneath our plastic skin
The tree of hearts
Branching out love
A colour red ,deep
One mine and one yours to keep

Together all hearts
A Beautiful piece of art
In the faith of love
We all live and reap

The tree of love
Nourished and replenished
Stands tall, evergreen
Rooted deep
Wrote this for a dear friend , she is an artist
Shared her paper craft photo ,suggested I write something.
As he gazed on my face
I saw waves of emotion
rise and crash
in his deep almond eyes
and I became a river
hurtling down to join
the mighty current

When he whispered to me
honeyed words of passion
in the enormity of silence
I blossomed
into
a red tulip of love

As he played on the strings
of my heart’s violin
I got tuned
into an alluring symphony

When he held my palms
I evolved into
a beautiful painting
on a blank canvas

When he cupped my face
to stamp on my lips
the seal of love
I became
a flitting butterfly

When he lifted me up
in his arms
all the stars came down
to see the spark in my eyes
wondering if it outdid
their combined lustre
 Dec 2017 Edgel Escomen
luis
10:00 A.M.
Battery: 100%

12:00 P.M.
Battery: 80%

2:00 P.M.
Battery: 67%

4:00 P.M.
Battery: 45%

6:00 P.M.
Battery: 30%

8:00 P.M.
Battery: 10%

10:00 P.M.
Battery: 0%

10:03 P.M.
Notification: You have one unread message:
from Andrea

"i love you ♥"

10:03 P.M.
...
Battery: 100%
for all the boys and girls who still yearn for love in our digital age
We shall plant trees now.
So others in the future,
may sit in the shade.
Inspired by the quote "A society grows great when old men plant trees whose shade they know they shall never sit in."
 Nov 2017 Edgel Escomen
Cné
Moving past the shuttered mind
that shuns imagination
I seek a stimulating thought
a cause for exhultation.
It hovers there
like hummingbirds
whose entry I deny.
And yet
I see the imagery
and heave a heartfelt sigh.
It teases me
and mocks me
as it dodges
every grasp
Laughing at my efforts
to retrieve it
with each clasp.
Yet empty air is my reward.
My snares are all in vain.
I close my eyes and meditate
for inspiration's gain.
An empty net
a vacant trap
the target still eludes.
Perhaps tomorrow
try again
away from darker moods.
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