#vapour
I sit and watch the clouds drift by
Forming pictures in the sky
Swirling, changing billowing high
As the birds around them fly
Between the white are hints of blue
A sunbeam slowly breaking through
To shine it's light onto the ground
As clouds cast shadows all around
They crash together, make no sound
Merge with each other in swirling mounds
Piling high upon the Horizon
On Thermal drifts that gently Raise them
But soon the droplets will appear
Conglomerate to tiny spheres
where gravity will pull them down
To fall as rain upon the Ground
The Sun it shines, the rain disperses
The water´s chemical form reverses
And wanders as Vapor up into the sky
To make more clouds to please my eye.
Jan 4
Jan 4, 2026 at 5:06 AM UTC
Fog and mist rising,
And then disappearing behind the peaks.
Fog and mist rising
From the lake as if
The water itself is burning beneath its lurky surface.
Fog and mist rising and dissolving into the meadows,
Painting the grassland in grey and white.
Fog and mist rising and nestling in the deodars,
Reflecting the icy surface of the water in its vapour.
Fog and mist rises higher and higher than the mountain peaks as if teasing the slope of the hill.
Fog and mist rising and tainting the hillside until nothing is visible,
Not even the roads in haunted small towns.
Fog and mist rising from nowhere and covering the hills
In blue and grey and white.
Fog and mist rising like an old curse after the rainfall dances.
Fog and mist rising and then disappearing
behind the peaks,
Where there is only the open sky.
Sep 19, 2024
Sep 19, 2024 at 9:41 PM UTC
I lie upon the soft field grasses,
and look up upon the blue.
To ease the mind to rest,
and let my eyes take in the view.
Vapour shaped by wind,
that drifts high upon the restful scene.
To float upon the pastel,
leaving no trace where it has been.
Shapes of white and grey,
like soft pillows in the air.
That by some subtle contortion,
transform, 'til naught is there.
Others drift across the daylight,
as if on some predestined course.
propelled across the sky,
by a breath of nature's unseen force.
I wonder where they go,
what bidding do they do.
As they glide along their way,
until far beyond my capsuled view.
Sun's warmth in temporary instalments,
as shadows come and go.
The shade and shadow's fall,
slightly cool all that is far below.
Through my eyes now closed,
of soft patterns I remain complete aware.
As warmth and slight chill mark the clouds,
that march upon the springtime air.
Jun 13, 2021
Jun 13, 2021 at 8:50 PM UTC
even if my wings overfill with remorse later,
I really need to leave for my pilgrimage –
angels, stars and janitors wait for me there.
they do not make merry
do not mourn
cannot marry, will never reproduce
my *** soon will be undefined, they say my spirit will too
what do I do with my freewill that you all so envy?
those who are born in prison,
do not know abusing certain privileges –
this is an impudent wastage of luxury.
terribly, now, the unwells too have mastered
celebrating medieval poets,
forsaken sonnets –
and rejoicing in complete despair.
May 10, 2020
May 10, 2020 at 5:21 PM UTC
You are smoke.
Mesmerizing.
Dangerous.
Beautiful.
You are smoke.
Impossible to touch,
Soothing,
Intoxicating.
You are smoke.
Because even though you slip
through my fingers,
And I can't hold onto you,
You suffocate me.
You make it hard for me to think.
You seep into every inch of my lungs;
You are harmful.
You are smoke.
Evaporating vapour;
And all I want to do is breathe you in.
~j.l.
Feb 14, 2019
Feb 14, 2019 at 8:51 PM UTC
Every breath is a balloon
rising and floating away.
We never hold onto them,
as its nicer to watch
them soar.
And who want to hold on,
when we have our
feet on the ground.
And can watch them dance in the air.
Jan 9, 2019
Jan 9, 2019 at 7:38 AM UTC
Moon mantled in clouds
From it falls tears of Heaven
Lotus kissed with dew
Barefooted, she walks
A lithesome body in white
Rose cheeked, tear-brimmed eyes
Her skirts made of mist
as she twirls and piroettes
and reaches for you
Her sleeves are water
They wave high, above her head
Drops become crystals
As she shines so bright
Crowned with cassia-blossoms
on her silk black hair
But why does she cry?
She hears the music of life
and yearns for the flame
The flick of her wrist
The lake murmurs its sad song
And she's reminded
As the petals rain
In hemp or rich brocade
We are like vapors
Jul 29, 2018
Jul 29, 2018 at 3:06 PM UTC
I'm clouded within the vapor
of droplets that collect
in my lungs
to verse a drowning motion
that others swim upon
May 6, 2017
May 6, 2017 at 2:22 PM UTC