Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
bob Mar 2013
What works!
Spires dotted everywhere,
Meaning nothing more, for they are just hairs.
As we know, the turtle triumphed the hare.
What about something more...extraordinary?
Like golden pinnacles, draped like curtains
(in zero gravity of course!)
over the dunes of the Sahara,
so crisp and smooth.
Something like a barren Atlantis if you ask me.

But Atlantis is a magnificent place!
Filled with the ombrés of blue, green, and yellow,
Weaved together beautifully,
seamlessly.
As if the sisters of the Underworld
Were unraveling the quilt of a Goddess.

Venture beyond the golden pinnacles,
Trek the deserts,
Dive into Atlantis and swim further into the blue;
only to find a mysterious coral reef,
filled with peachy pinks and raspberry reds.
Separated, right down the middle,
by a large chasm that sinks into enigma.

This unabridged land,
filled with wonderous constellations
and dark secrets,
simply needs to be caressed and loved
for it to flourish.
Dedicated to the Hope that got away, yet still exists, when I unlocked Pandora's Box within the dark depths of my heart.
bob Mar 2013
Against the wall,
Just as blue as this 'ere paint.
Thought of Picasso...then of Bobby Timmons.
bob Mar 2013
Secluded in the darkness,
trapped behind the bars of Society;
a lonesome figure is enveloped in confusion.
Beyond the bars lay the horizon spread across the landscape,
stretching into the infinity.
Desiring no more than to break free from the isolated realm of the quiet,
the figure makes an abrupt change within itself:
to become an extrovert.
Suddenly, the bars were relinquished;
but a fragment of the figure rested upon the Earth.
The fragment manifested itself,
as though Manifest Destiny herself was reborn,
into another figure.
The figure
                      called itself...
                                                        ...an introvert.
bob Mar 2013
A little, twee serenade for you,
Or perhaps a sonnet for others,
I'm not asking for anything extravagant like, "I do."
Nor do I want you to scurry off beneath your couvers.

Where brother, art thou.
Although, to me, you're more of a sister.
To cradle you, here and now;
Under the galleria of lights, never to deter.

But...you're madly in love with another,
I know.
And it pains me to ask you, for I am not your prince, but a stranger.
It's probably too late, although...

I've mustered up a fragment of hope & courage to ask thee,
Will you go to Prom with me?
I know you're reading this, my lavender loving angel. <3
bob Mar 2013
What is love?
It's a good question, that's for sure...
bob Mar 2013
Hugging you,
My hand making a glissando
along your hair.
Blonde hair, for those of you woundering. Hehe :)
bob Mar 2013
Let your mind fill the spaces between my spaces.
Sentences are never complete,
You know, there's always room for more.
Imagination, like constellations,
And consternation from the procrastination of trying to connect the dots.
Which is which,
Steve Jobs once said to connect the dots of your future and your past.
Perhaps they'll create a Hercules of radiance,
Or a Cerberus of darkness.
In any case, there's always room for more.
Wouldn't "I love you" be better written as "Iloveyou",
Where there is no space for mistakes?

— The End —