Analysis of No Clouds
When I looked up at the sky in my states of penalizingly noxious prejudice; with my fists overwhelmingly raring to pulverize all around me; into inconspicuously threadbare shit,
All I could see was clouds with vindictive streaks of manipulatively beguiling violet; threateningly seeming to brutally strangulate the very fabric of enchanting existence.
When I looked up at the sky in my states of lecherously augmenting discontent; with even the most replenishing of riches failing to trigger the slightest jubilation in my preposterously greedy life,
All I could see was clouds with cataclysmically malicious streaks of dirty grey, perniciously adulterating the impeccable fountain of mesmerizing existence.
When I looked up at the sky in my states of remorseful anguish; with my persona treacherously abandoning even the most humanitarian sects of the blissfully sagacious society,
All I could see was clouds with thunderous reverberations of gory red; raining down unrelentingly cold-blooded downpours of diabolical hell.
When I looked up at the sky in my states of indefatigably castigating rebuke; with my tongue lambasting sardonically heinous abuse at even the most bountifully blooming entity that it encountered in its way,
All I could see was clouds with decaying tinges of lugubriously decaying yellow; insidiously plotting every unfurling second of the day to baselessly pulverize melodiously exotic existence.
When I looked up at the sky in my states of raunchy uxoriousness; being irrevocably drawn towards sleazily derogatory smoke; vixen and wine,
All I could see was clouds with thunderbolts of perfidiously white lightening; intractably bent upon metamorphosing every aspect of glorious existence into
mists of meaningless chowder.
When I looked up at the sky in my states of horrifically debilitating insanity; with every cranny of my countenance maniacally marauding even the most holistic ingredient of the spell bindingly rhapsodic atmosphere,
All I could see was clouds with pugnacious battlefields of ghastly brown; salaciously trying their best to corrupt the ingratiatingly majestic charisma of vibrant existence.
When I looked up at the sky in my states of tasteless exasperation; tirelessly fuming and fretting at even the most fantastically reinvigorating shades of my inexorably fantasizing mind,
All I could see was clouds with abominably lackadaisical grains of chalky turquoise;
surreptitiously planning to nondescriptly imprison; the regally soaring colors
of ebulliently euphoric existence.
When I looked up at the sky in my states of treacherous nonchalance; slithering like an infidel insect in the marshes of desperation; without the tiniest of mission or ambition in vivacious life,
All I could see was clouds with sordid maelstroms of disparagingly dolorous black; torturously thrashing and uprooting the tree of marvelously aristocratic existence.
When I looked up at the sky in my states of satanic disbelief; not trusting even the most blazing inferno of patriotically perpetual truth,
All I could see was clouds with inconspicuous traces of ephemeral blue; venomously poisoning the sacrosanct demeanor of existence to abscond towards the graveyards of non-existent death.
When I looked up at the sky in my states of criminal hatred; parasitically sucking innocent blood; just in order to spuriously titillate the already scrumptiously rejuvenated trajectories of my skin,
All I could see was clouds with tyrannical prisons of cheating green; miserably eluding eternally iridescent existence of its; profoundly bountiful passion and graciousness.
But when I looked up at the sky in my states of perennially unassailable love; harboring nothing else but the spirit of timeless companionship in my heart; for every caste; creed; religion and organism; royally alike,
I saw no clouds at all; not even the most mercurial trace of devilish savagery around; as all that stared into my innocuous eyes was the Omnipotent light of the Sun; which immortally enlightened me to live and let live; forever and ever and ever.
Scheme | XA BA XX XA XXC XA XXXA BA XX XX XC |
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Poetic Form | |
Metre | 1111101011111010011101001110101101111 1111111010111010100100010110010010101010010 1111101011111000111001010011010110010010011101 11111111010111011100100101100010 111110101110101011010101001001010011010010100 11111111000010110110111101101001 111110101111100011110100100010011100111010011010011 1111111010111010101101000101010111101010010 1111101011110110010001011010011001 11111111111100110111001110001001 1110010 1111101011110100010011001011100101010010100100101101010 11111110101011011101110101010010110010 1111101011110010100100101100101000100111010001001 11111111010011110 0100101101001001010 11010010 111110101111001011001110100101010010100110101000101 111111110110100011110001001110000010010 11111010111010011101001100101101001 11111110100101010011100010001010101010101110101 11111010111100101101001101011100010101001111 111111101001011011000010010001001011010100100100 11111101011101000010011001011010110010011110011010010010001 111111110010100111010001111101101001100100110111010111011010010010 |
Characters | 4,042 |
Words | 619 |
Sentences | 11 |
Stanzas | 11 |
Stanza Lengths | 2, 2, 2, 2, 3, 2, 4, 2, 2, 2, 2 |
Lines Amount | 25 |
Letters per line (avg) | 135 |
Words per line (avg) | 25 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 307 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 56 |
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"No Clouds" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 11 Jun 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/50692/no-clouds>.
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