#cloudsc

18 posts
  • ak_anjali_daydreamzz 15w

    #start #foreverc #fallingc #cloudsc #apologizec #smokec
    #brokennessc #almostc #octoberc #timetoleavemylove
    @milliondreamsarekeepingmeawake I ended same line !
    #ak_prose

    All Rights Reserved
    7 Oct 2021 11 am

    (Beatrice means - she who makes happy )

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    Beatrice to Beethoven

    I love night walks, I've always loved the streets stretching long and wide before me, luring me to measure the distance between my love and my destiny, which stays hidden amidst white lights, pink frames and pied piper's songs. Even tonight I'm walking, with half a mind to stop, just return back home and the other half urging to walk until I surpass this scenery. The one which will be engraved on my mind in bold tints of hues - a buried symphony of rain(tear)drops.



    Loud zephyr surged through birches lining the asphalt. Lonely footpaths are piling heaps of dried dreams, that once had palmistry of a prospering future. Just like the rosy lines on my pale palm, they are fading and blurring. Leaving mere marks that resemble scars of being alive. Maybe they'd never disappear. Maybe they'd stay forever on me. Reminding me that I once had umpteenth possibilities, all of which got flooded by unrestricted emotions.

    The ache in my heart is tracing branches of thunderstorms lighting the darkening night sky in flashes. It all started from a single drop, that leisurely rolled off my forearm, slowly. Falling, falling and then hitting hard on the concrete crossroad. Welkin left no raindrop orphaned. More of those tragic pearls fell like an ornament of the heaving clouds. 

    Fogged streetlights adorned divinity as if a halo, blessing otherwise pitch black way. With every step I took, I let some tear drops cuddle the enlarging puddles on my way. Some steps deliberately stomped on fallen leaves, unwilling to lock away my distress. 'It must be October', my hazy mind tried to reason, why my pathway is paint-dipped in crimson-maroons and amber-bronzes. Just like my red-rimmed eyes and scar-studded thighs. 

    A heart that once poured love like marvelling monsoons have now closed off with raging smoke, a clouded mind.
    It's almost impossible to believe that he's unaware of the ways he's transformed 'from beaut to beast'. His hands tremble so hard if he can't refill poison pools in the glass bottles. Mirrors showed him neither reality nor fantasy. Music is no more his high, notations are mind maps to hell, a trepidating trap. 

    Echoes have left him aeons ago, whispers can't reach him even within hairline distance. Trumpets and drumroll veiled silence, piano poignantly ponders, violins wail intermittently. Euphony unreachable, cacophony undeterred. All that left was a mirage of eutony, not even approachable. And caresses have withered as soon as winter bound him in frore, lending me blossoming whiplashes.

    I stayed by him like a shadow that has taken an oath of solemnity. But there's only so much I can do when none of my attempts could disclose his despair. He was hell-bent on pushing me away. Would promises wither if their voices travel back to their origin ? Would love disappear if the hearts unwind their own beats ? Would forever fall down to never-again if brokenness gravitied the fall ? Who is to apologize to whom, if both are hurt and keep hurting each other ?

    This wretched rain has drenched me depressed yet my heart is shielding a drought rooted in loss. This scenery is fated to fade in forlorn.
    And every foggy breath I exhale is chanting a farewell to my once-wished-eternal-spring -
    " It's time to erase this scenery.
    It's time to leave, my love..." 

    / I couldn't be a Beatrice to his Beethoven
    For I'm Betrothed to Brokenness /

    ©ak_anjali_daydreamzz

  • wilmaneels1 15w

    Clouds dress up the sky
    In complimentary fashion
    They know where to move and when to move
    Sometimes heavy and dark
    Other times fluffy and white
    Painting the sky, adding their own little touch here and there
    Even over mountain tops
    ©wilmaneels1
    ©03102021

  • blinganshu 16w

    SUN AND THE SHIP
    The vermillion glow in the indigo sky
    The flame burning in the horizon trying
    To light up the path of the ship sailing in the sea
    Once the ship docks on the port
    The flame gets extinguished
    Until another voyage begins.
    A journey with strangers aboard
    People who help you battle the waves
    People who hold each other in storms
    People who share food
    People who share warmth
    Until the last port where the ship docks
    The strangers who get down remain no longer strangers
    They become friends for life.
    The azure sky covered with cottony clouds
    Small, big, picturesque
    Trying to hide the setting sun
    The beauty at its prime.
    ©blinganshu
    #myth #wod #contest_j #cloudsc #blinganshu

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    SUN AND THE SHIP

  • snehalv 16w

    Lying on the grass,
    My eyes twinkle with joy,
    looking up to the sky
    I write my wish on the cloud
    That’s going to rain on me with all great opportunities .
    ©snehalv

  • pallavi4 16w

    Grateful

    The rising sun brings a day renewed
    With clouds nowhere in the clear blue skies
    Birds chirp as they fly from their nests
    Flowers rejoice as do the butterflies
    The trees swish in the gentle breeze
    Their glossy leaves make a rustling noise
    Nature blooms and is wondrously happy
    Simply grateful to be alive

    A new day brings with it new hope
    A chance for us to try and rectify
    The mistakes we made and faults in us
    To weary thoughts bid a jolly goodbye
    Blood runs in our veins and life
    We breathe in with every sigh
    Replenishing our wishes and dreams
    We are grateful to be alive

    Nature is a very curious creature
    Blessing us with a healthy life
    Dusk serves as a time for reflection
    As the stars start twinkling in the sky
    The sun gradually sets and goes to sleep
    The moon slowly opens its eyes
    This cycle of night and day makes us
    Very grateful to be alive

    In our hands are our destinies and fates
    A chance to make the most of our time
    Controlled by the hands of the clock we live
    By biding a time that for us is right
    Thankful to have been given a chance to breathe
    And walk the earth as humans, we find
    A chance for redemption and absolution
    And be so very grateful to be alive

    @pallavi4

    3rd of October, 2021

    Pic credit: Pinterest, picture credited to its rightful owner- Monika Luniak

    #cloudsc #writersbay @writersbay #grateful @writersnetwork #miraquill #MirakeeWorld #writersnetwork #poetry #pod #writerscommunity @miraquill #myth #wod

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  • fellowtraveller 16w

    Cloud

    She floats in her frosted forevers
    Cradling the crumbs of her halycon
    While Surreal snowfalkes clouds
    her vision for a desperate Dawn..


    Cloudy clusters of Caramel Caricatures
    Drizzles daintly through her Wayfarer soul
    Melting the Euphoric Spell of antiquity
    Munching the ashes of tranquility..

    ©fellowtraveller

  • silhouette_of_a_poet 16w

    Weightless wanderers

    Clumps of clay for thoughts
    Sometimes sheer streaks
    Or sheets of gray
    Sponging up sweat and colours
    The oldest wanderers
    At the mercy of winds
    Draw curtains in silence
    Or break it in flashes
    Dispelled in time
    When we're lost in ourselves
    We see them weightlessly float
    Without a care in the world
    Whilst we shoulder
    The weight of words

    ©edward_3355

  • paint_a_poem 16w

    Myth

    To the poet and the painter
    The sky is a canvas
    Sunlight is the acrylic
    The Cloud is her muse
    Nature breathes in blue
    Inhales colours of orange
    And paints a resplendent hue
    The fiery sun then sets
    Myths and legends abound
    There can be no rhyme or reason
    Revel in nature's wonders
    Spinning Earth, Moon and Sun

    ©paint_a_poem
    3 Oct 21

  • _firefly 16w

    a blood red chandelier hangs idly
    among the lilac pastel clouds,
    as if it is a poet bereft of words
    with no metaphorical peculiarities,
    ashamed, it hides behind the
    veil of incomplete meaningless poems.

    a blood red chandelier hangs idly
    among the saffron coloured sky,
    as if it is a yearning lover waiting
    with its arms open for the one he loves,
    for the one who left it to wander alone,
    behind the curtain of insecure possibilities.

    a blood red chandelier hangs idly
    among the far lost twilight hopes,
    as if it is an artist on his last breaths
    still wishing to paint death as it's muse
    with its contused edgy feeble fingers,
    before it eclipses behind the bleak abyss.

    /sun is furious because like all the poets, lovers and artists, it feels abandoned /

    _firefly

  • writersbay 16w

    Word of the day: Clouds

    Tag and share with #cloudsc

    P.S. - Watch clouds today. Make yourself a cup of coffee. Click pictures of the sky. Read classic poetry. It’s never too late to live your life, is it? You’ve miles to go yet, so take it easy! 🌼

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    Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under trees on a summer's day, listening to the murmur of the water. Or watching the clouds float across the sky, is by no means a waste of time.

    – John Lubbock

  • queen_butterfly 17w

    #haiku #cloudsc #deadlilac

    Woah! It's EC!
    Thank you for the read WN❤️

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    And just when your day
    is looking cloudy and grey
    a prelude to May

    ©queen_butterfly

  • jlaine 29w

    Wings in the sky
    You carry me
    Back to a time
    I once believed
    Passion was mine
    Come back to me
    Wings in the sky
    Come back for me

    Wings in the sky
    You ravish me
    Placate my mind
    So I can breathe
    Wings in the sky
    You carry me
    Wings in the sky
    Where passion's free


    ©jlaine

  • _ashna_ 31w

    SHADES OF A CLOUD.

    Like an old portrait
    that reminded you
    of the subtle art
    of loving.
    Like the cassette
    and rusted ring
    decomposing
    like the lies of
    forever and ever.

    Like the stars
    dancing upon
    her emotions.
    Like the sad skies
    bleeding upon
    sorrows.
    Like the poets
    murdering
    metaphors
    during midnight.

    Like the Zephyr
    of the late winter
    humming to
    my crescent love
    verses of an
    undying love.
    Like the spirits
    protecting the
    death of a star.


    Like the moon
    mourning for
    the death of a heart.
    Like the white Lilly
    scented like an old
    memory trapped in
    the attic of fables.

    ~The cloud rained shades of black and grey that day.
    ©_ashna_

  • wilmaneels 63w

    Clouds
    Those fluffy things that cover the sky
    That sometimes hide the sun
    Other times they get so heavy
    They pour down some precious rain
    Then to cover it all they say
    There is a silver lining too

    Clouds
    Sometimes fluffy and white
    Others times heavy and dark

    Does not matter which form they come in
    When we look up to the sky
    They paint such a beautiful picture
    ©wilmaneels
    ©02112020
    *image credit to rightful owner*

  • sproutedseeds 63w

    OPTIMIST

    Being optimistic
    in every situation
    gives us positive
    vibes and hopes
    to see the
    brighter side
    Just like" every cloud has a silver lining"
    reflecting from the sun behind it.
    ©sproutedseeds
    02.11.20

  • nocturnal_enigma 101w

    #NuEmUntitles #livingc #cloudsc @writersbay

    * An entry for a challenge- 'Weakness as Strength' #cees_was_chall challenge by: @carolyns_challenges

    ~

    * 1st-2nd lines are inspired by these lyrics of the song: Girl On Fire by Alicia Keys:

    "Oh, she got both feet on the ground....
    Oh, she got her head in the clouds."

    * The words 'ground' & 'clouds' are used in 1st & last stanzas.

    ~

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    Untitle 61 ~

    Yeah, my head is stucked in the clouds;
    But, my feet still stand; stay on the ground.
    Let me get on stage; hear peoples applauds;
    Their clapping hands make echoing sounds.
    I would like to make my parents be proud;
    So, I fight for my dreams, till the last round!
    To be myself; yes; that; I am allowed.
    But, I can't expose my deepest wounds.
    As I know that, among the crowds;
    There hide some vicious 'hounds'.
    Whenever, I get mad, I become loud;
    Unaware; there are peoples around.
    One day, I'll die; then, wrapped in a shroud;
    With that last cloth, my dead body is bound.
    Until then, I'll keep walking under the sky of clouds;
    Well, I'll keep living until I'm buried under the ground.

    © Nuruliffa Emirah
    @ nocturnal_enigma