“A Woman” — A Collaboration by @Zorlone and @FrankCunhaIII

Posted: October 3, 2012 | Author: fc3arch | Filed under: FC3ZMD, Poetry | Tags: Art, FC3ZMD, Photo Art, Photography, Poetry, Zorlone | 2 Comments

Through the hour glass

shaped wire

I make out a figure

of a woman.

In her form,

I can see the universe.

All the colors and shapes

that form

the space

around us are present

in her outline.

In the curves

I can make out each planet,

each cell,

and each subatomic particle.

She is the universe,

she is life!

Photo credits: Lorenzo Bernardino – Philippines

Artwork: Lorenzo Bernardino | Poetry: Frank Cunha III (reformatted/edited by L.B.) | More FC3 Poetry

If you like this post please share it and spread the love to my collaborator in the Philippines by liking the post here as well.

Sincerely,

Frank Cunha III
I Love My Architect – Facebook

FC3 ARCHITECTURE+DESIGN, LLC
P.O. Box 335, Hamburg, NJ 07419
e-mail: fcunha@fc3arch.com
mobile: 201.681.3551
direct: 973.970.3551
fax: 973.718.4641
web: http://fc3arch.com
Licensed in NJ, NY, PA, DE, CT.

Sunset and Springtime | 0401201215321549 — Collaboration by @FC3ZMD @Zorlone @FrankCunhaIII

Posted: April 2, 2012 | Author: fc3arch | Filed under: Art, FC3ZMD, Photography, Poetry | Tags: Collaboration, East, FC3, FC3ZMD, iPhoneOnly, Photo, spring, West, Zorlone | 1 Comment

Photo Art by Frank Cunha III (taken with iPhone, edited using Snapseed, scratches added on iPad using SketchBookX app) — USA

This sunset and springtime,
colors of my tired mind.

Painting the memories,
of another lifetime.

Past and present chances,
woven in time and space.

Lines of songs and dances,
like rain in dreams embrace.

As the sun bids farewell,
this day to remember.

Bridging thoughts and stairwells,
this future to answer.

My memories remind,
of a painting sublime.

Colors of my tired mind,
this sunset and springtime.

Artwork: Frank Cunha III | Poetry: Lorenzo Bernardino

More FC3 Poetry

Read the rest of this entry »

Forgiveness | 0318201222302238 — Collaboration by @FC3ZMD @Zorlone @FrankCunhaIII

Posted: April 2, 2012 | Author: fc3arch | Filed under: Art, FC3ZMD, Photography, Poetry | Tags: Collaboration, East, FC3, FC3ZMD, iPhoneOnly, Lorenzo Bernardino, Photo, West | Leave a comment

Self Portrait taken by an Instagram Friend - Edited by Frank Cunha III — USA

I left

the silent gaze
of your sympathy.
Stepping ever slowly
on shards of glass
as I walked away.

I bleed

from the cut
sliced skin
of my decision
to grow apart –
from your side.

I cried.

The thoughts
of your kindness
that I disregarded
and abandoned
from fear
of leaving behind
a life that I knew.

I am sorry.

Artwork: Frank Cunha III | Poetry: Lorenzo Bernardino

More FC3 Poetry

Read the rest of this entry »

Filipino Culture And Street Food | 03131208080900 — Collaboration by @FC3ZMD @Zorlone @FrankCunhaIII

Posted: April 1, 2012 | Author: fc3arch | Filed under: Art, FC3ZMD, Isms, More FC3, Photography | Tags: Art, Culture, FC3, FC3ZMD, Filipino, Filipino Culture, photoshop, Poetry, Street, Street Food, Zorlone | Leave a comment

Photo by Zorlone – Philippines Edited by Frank Cunha using Snapseed and Photoshop — USA

Figures, forms, random, and repetitive,
Sequences of space and time –
shape stories.
Seeing, being, and occupying space.
She senses the essence of being there –
from here.

On her device,

she loosely listens,
distantly distracted,

Looking and being, mind, body, and soul collapse.
Sequences of space and time.
Patterns forming,
and changing.

Calls dropped, missed, and gotten, but never forgotten.

Her cell phone glistens, cover cracked,

Soul retracted.
The other person listens.

She talks,
and stops….

Patterns remain, shapes broken,
love ones born, and love ones lost,

Talk.
Talk.
Talk.
Walk.
Walk.
Walk.

Sequences of space and time come and go,
Her phone call – done,
her essence – gone.
Soul patterns on the floor,
only her soles,
remain.

Artwork: Lorenzo Bernardino Edited by Frank Cunha III | Poetry by Frank Cunha III & Lorenzo Bernardino

If you like this post please share it and spread the love to my collaborator by liking the post here as well.

Sincerely,
Frank Cunha III
I Love My Architect – Facebook

Golden Hour | 0315201220332047 — Collaboration by @FC3ZMD @Zorlone @FrankCunhaIII

Posted: March 15, 2012 | Author: fc3arch | Filed under: Art, FC3ZMD, Photography, Poetry | Tags: Collaboration, East, FC3, FC3ZMD, iPhoneOnly, Lorenzo Bernardino, Photo, West | Leave a comment

After-5K Run Sunset Photo (right) taken by Frank Cunha III on 3/11/2012 Foggy Sunrise Photo (left) taken by Frank Cunha III on 3/14/2012 (iPhone4S, edited using Snapseed / Diptic apps) - USA

Twice in a mundane day,
Unnoticed by most walks of life.
The perfect scene of perfect light,
Strikes at the golden hour.

Like reflections on both ends of the Earth,
Stretched by the reach of the sun.
The day begins when another ends,
But meeting halfway at the golden hour.

Awed in a similar scene,
The skyline of blue and yellow.
These ghost silhouettes and familiar shadows,
Are formed at the golden hour.

With the same expression of a precise time,
Separated by the distant future and the known past.
The present is clearly united,
And in sync at the golden hour.

Artwork: Frank Cunha III | Poetry: Lorenzo Bernardino

More FC3 Poetry

Read the rest of this entry »

Filipino Culture and Street Food | 03131208080900 — Collaboration by @FC3ZMD @Zorlone @FrankCunhaIII

Posted: March 14, 2012 | Author: fc3arch | Filed under: Art, FC3ZMD, Isms, More FC3, Photography | Tags: A Filipino, Art, Culture, FC3ZDR, Food, International Collaboration, Poetry, Street | Leave a comment

Photo by Lorenzo Bernardino – Philippines | Edited by Frank Cunha III (Photoshop "Extreme Edit Version") - USA

“One more, please?” Pedro cried out a prayer. He counted the small change he got from yesterday’s earnings.

He still needed to meet his daily quota of cotton candy sales before he could start making any profits for the day.

The gloom oh his face brightened and he couldn’t help a smile broaden when two beautifully dressed girls approached him.

Read the rest of this entry »

Overlapping Lines | 0313201222562304 — Collaboration by @FC3ZMD @Zorlone @FrankCunhaIII

Posted: March 13, 2012 | Author: fc3arch | Filed under: Art, FC3ZMD, Photography, Poetry | Tags: Black & White, Collaboration, East, FC3, FC3ZMD, iPhoneOnly, Lines, Lorenzo Bernardino, Photo, Photography, Shadows, sharp, West | Leave a comment

Photo taken by Frank Cunha III on March 11, 2010 – USA (using iPhone 4S, originally edited using “Snapseed” App) | Re-Edited using “Pic Collage” by Lorenzo Bernardino – Philippines | http://pic-collage.com

I stood
At the
Edge
Of a sharp
Fence of shadows
Careful not to get wounded
Careful not to bleed.

I was lost temporarily
From the presence
Of overlapping lines
Of spheres
And swords
And daggers
And of mistakes.

There could be more
Of these picket fences
Of these thin soldiers
Of these dark knights
That stood on ground
To protect
To defend
To throw
Their lives.

They stood
Still and firm
In attention
Of the lines
There
In.

Artwork: Frank Cunha III Edited by: Lorenzo Bernardino| Poetry: Lorenzo Bernardino

More FC3 Poetry

Read the rest of this entry »

A Diary of an Architect.

Through the hour glass

shaped wire

I make out a figure

of a woman.

In her form,

I can see the universe.

All the colors and shapes

that form

the space

around us are present

in her outline.

In the curves

I can make out each planet,

each cell,

and each subatomic particle.

She is the universe,

she is life!

This sunset and springtime, colors of my tired mind.

Painting the memories, of another lifetime.

Past and present chances, woven in time and space.

Lines of songs and dances, like rain in dreams embrace.

As the sun bids farewell, this day to remember.

Bridging thoughts and stairwells, this future to answer.

My memories remind, of a painting sublime.

Colors of my tired mind, this sunset and springtime.

I left

the silent gaze of your sympathy. Stepping ever slowly on shards of glass as I walked away.

I bleed

from the cut sliced skin of my decision to grow apart – from your side.

I cried.

The thoughts of your kindness that I disregarded and abandoned from fear of leaving behind a life that I knew.

I am sorry.

Twice in a mundane day, Unnoticed by most walks of life. The perfect scene of perfect light, Strikes at the golden hour.

Like reflections on both ends of the Earth, Stretched by the reach of the sun. The day begins when another ends, But meeting halfway at the golden hour.

Awed in a similar scene, The skyline of blue and yellow. These ghost silhouettes and familiar shadows, Are formed at the golden hour.

With the same expression of a precise time, Separated by the distant future and the known past. The present is clearly united, And in sync at the golden hour.

I stood At the Edge Of a sharp Fence of shadows Careful not to get wounded Careful not to bleed.

I was lost temporarily From the presence Of overlapping lines Of spheres And swords And daggers And of mistakes.

There could be more Of these picket fences Of these thin soldiers Of these dark knights That stood on ground To protect To defend To throw Their lives.

They stood Still and firm In attention Of the lines There In.

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This sunset and springtime,
colors of my tired mind.

Painting the memories,
of another lifetime.

Past and present chances,
woven in time and space.

Lines of songs and dances,
like rain in dreams embrace.

As the sun bids farewell,
this day to remember.

Bridging thoughts and stairwells,
this future to answer.

My memories remind,
of a painting sublime.

Colors of my tired mind,
this sunset and springtime.

the silent gaze
of your sympathy.
Stepping ever slowly
on shards of glass
as I walked away.

from the cut
sliced skin
of my decision
to grow apart –
from your side.

The thoughts
of your kindness
that I disregarded
and abandoned
from fear
of leaving behind
a life that I knew.

Twice in a mundane day,
Unnoticed by most walks of life.
The perfect scene of perfect light,
Strikes at the golden hour.

Like reflections on both ends of the Earth,
Stretched by the reach of the sun.
The day begins when another ends,
But meeting halfway at the golden hour.

Awed in a similar scene,
The skyline of blue and yellow.
These ghost silhouettes and familiar shadows,
Are formed at the golden hour.

With the same expression of a precise time,
Separated by the distant future and the known past.
The present is clearly united,
And in sync at the golden hour.

I stood
At the
Edge
Of a sharp
Fence of shadows
Careful not to get wounded
Careful not to bleed.

I was lost temporarily
From the presence
Of overlapping lines
Of spheres
And swords
And daggers
And of mistakes.

There could be more
Of these picket fences
Of these thin soldiers
Of these dark knights
That stood on ground
To protect
To defend
To throw
Their lives.

They stood
Still and firm
In attention
Of the lines
There
In.