Things used to be very simple, things used to be very clear.
You write on a piece of paper, it’s taken to places far and near.
A kiss of your excitative smell a cute touch on a secret love letter.
A heavy black seal with a crown for a way less interesting matter.
All that has changed, it’s been twisted. Your fingers tap on a screen.
How many zeroes make a one? One of a binary kin?
Ones and zeroes, zeroes and ones. As light, in sea and space, no less.
That’s how we send a message. A message in this age of mess.
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Author:
Victor Bolshov (
Offline)
- Published: May 16th, 2025 02:28
- Comment from author about the poem: I still send postcards from afar, do you?
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 26
- Users favorite of this poem: Soman Ragavan, Tristan Robert Lange
Comments6
Good write with deeper meaning. Progress is not always moving forward and moving forward is not always progress. Loved it
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Sometimes progress is not a good thing, I still write letters, I feel you put more effort into a letter rather an e mail, enjoyed the read
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Fun title, fun poem... full of meaning, full of gloam! And yes postcards are the best. It's so much better than checking-in or geotagging on social media!🙏🏻🕊️But that's just me...
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There is a terrific play on the word "Message." It's the age where you get messages about messages unsent, unread, email addresses not existing...
Thank you Soman! Indeed it’s so crazy at times!
Just on the word play alone, this gets a fave. Yes, I still send postcards from time to time when visiting places. Wonderful write, Victor. Love it. 🌹👏
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its sad that the age of scented handwritten letters is rarely found - it has been taken by the instant messaging for sure - what a mess indeed
Thanks Nafisa!
you are welcome. have a good day
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