Clouds.

Swirling masses,
Shapingly moving across the horizon,
Puffs of smoke moving ever so slowly,
It is intense,
The sky is turning shapes of color,
The blues turn to red,
The reds to purple,
Yet the clouds stay the same,
Forever Held together by love and hate,
The eternal struggles of life.

Till death do us part,
The clouds line the skies,
The clouds are turning black and grey,
The rain comes down, slowly at first,
The thunder beats time in the sky,
And lightning exposes the sky,
The clouds are swirling so fast,
The thunder and lightning clashing,
The gods are screaming,
Hell is unleashed, for a second,
In another it’s over,
The sky now blue,
I take out a cigarette,
I make clouds of my own.

I like it. Very atmospheric (um, no pun intended! :blush: ).

Beautiful images :slight_smile:

I like the effect of the commas at the end of most of the lines as you [reader] read this poem. It causes the mind to pause ever-so briefly from one line to the next which elicits a subconscious emphasis - subconscious on the part of the reader, that is.

totally nebulous --pardon the shameless cloud reference-- poem, dude (dudette?),
N.

I’m a dude…

Yeah, I tend to find it a bit off when people refrain from comma use. But too much ruins the feel, I try to bo subtle about it.

I tend to refrain from punctation for the most part save for setting things off with dashes and the infrequent parenthetical, bracketed or italicized word or phraze. Usually I just add extra space between words and stanzas for added pause emphasis - just how I prefer to operate.

N.