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Anais Vionet Jun 30
In a phalanx of four: Peter, Lisa, Dave, and I, descended a waterfall of marble stairs - pilgrims to another time - as if we’d punched through a wormhole.

It’s a five-star bash at the palace of Versailles - a grand ball - and the air itself seemed to vibrate with a feverish energy. As we bottomed the stairs, something whisked by in the air - was it the ghost of beheaded Louis the 16th?

Naah, it was a multicolored, donkey-headed, Cirque du Soleil creature. They swung everywhere, like gravity defying bugs on silken tethers, ring-swings and thin, web ropes. They flew, tumbled, unicycled, breathed fire and were shot out of cannons like fodder - all against a prismatic sunset backdrop.

A surprisingly chill Parisian wind clawed at our costumes of silk and broadcloth finery. The sun, a bright pink and yellow crack, low on the horizon, cast long, dramatic shadows on the flourish of chaos, as people arrived.

As night asserted itself, light became a living entity, blooming and dissolving in a mesmerizing multicolor-laser ballet that bathed the milling, costumed throng in fluorescent kaleidoscopes of kool-aid colors.

The day before, we had final costume fittings, earlier on the day, we had our hair and makeup done by artists who specialized in 17th/18th century styles (like we’d have known the difference).

From the salon, we were valeted, from Paris, directly to a ‘theme studio,’ setup in the Grand Trianon (the small, side palace where Napoleon lived in the summer) where, for €250 each, we got 10 glam shots on an elaborate, fantasy set.

Then we were escorted to the ‘Extravagant’ (a VIP area next to the stage) - passing through the envious glares of queued, lesser mortals.
‘Ahh, Privilege’, I thought, smiling brightly and waving royally - ‘just like Marie Antoinette used to do it.’ (before being angrily beheaded).

In the heart of the masquerade, tables fairly groaned under a buffet to shame the Roman emperors. There were open bars where rivers of martinis, champagnes and chocolates, the very essences of the celebration, flowed freely.

Elaborately constructed, elevated stages of polished aluminum pulsed music and life. LED light-panels painted fleeting hieroglyphs on the crowd, teasing the edges of perception and bands performed their own sonic wave-magic, swamping the crowd along in currents of booming, euphoric, Frenchcore club-music.

Dance, dance, dance, rest. I don’t think I’ve ever been in a more delightfully fragrant crush of humanity.
Our gilded, white clothed table was an island where we could retreat for cooling refreshment. I have two important words for you 'watermelon martinis’ - you’ll thank me later.

Versailles decadent past was alive that night. It was a young crowd, in general, so, of course, G was there, with Molly, K and Ice - but we were, like, ‘no thank you very much’. In several areas, costumes became fairytale slithers, as partiers became increasingly uninhibited.

After about four hours we caught the ‘exclusive’ light show (Hollywood bathed in unclothed decadence) before moving, weary limbed as zombies, toward the whispered promise of breakfast.

About 45 limousine-minutes later, waiting tourists and a crowd of locals outside a posh Paris restaurant hushed as we passed, colorfully costumed, like ghosts of an indulgent, hedonistic past - to our reserved table.
“Quatre, café et croque monsieur, s'il te plaît,” I told the waiter (four coffees & breakfast sandwiches, please).

I’ll admit to being a bit jaded. I’ve been to more than several ‘Parisian Haute-Couture Extravaganzas” but Lisa seemed genuinely impressed and I think the boys (Peter and David) had fun too. I was lavished with kudos as if I’d thrown the thing.

The atmosphere had been pure romance - in an upscale, Disney, mass produced sense and while it was, perhaps - like last summer's trip to the Ascot races - something not to be missed, it was also a one-time fling - something to look back on - when we’re 40 or whatever.
BLT Merriam Webster word of the day challenge: Kudos praise given for an achievement

slang
G was there, with Molly, K and Ice = the club drugs Ecstasy, MDMA, Ketamine and ****.
thyreez-thy Oct 2023
My suit is wrinkled, fresh yet wasted
Food is before me, barely tasted
Everyone dances, their dates close at hand
I sit alone, yet I understand
This should faze me, yet somehow I don't care

The floor is neon lit and the room is dark
Colours there to illuminate, to bring a spark
I walk through the couples who dance away
My mind is blurred as the music plays
My Ex-date sees me and stares the other way
"Its alright" I say, I predicted she would never stay
She finds my consideration queer
I carry on walking, my direction never steers

I'm outside in the cold, my hands feel numb
My mind is faded, to darkness I succumb
"Thyreez" I hear a voice in the wind
I see her and the real night begins
No face is needed, I Remember the voice
I stare from the balcony, the venue was a great choice
"So I" she speaks, but I'm not bothered to listen
The shadow holds my hand, I push it back
"Go on, go inside, go enjoy your final year, go grab a snack"
She finds my request rude and storms in
I'm alone, a silent but well deserved win
I check my phone "19:45" 2 more hours
The rest of the night will be spent staring at towers
A poem on how I expected Matric Ball to be before Covid cancelled it, I don't exactly share these ideas anymore but still always found them as lonely affairs if not with friends  you know
xavier thomas Oct 2021
In the afterlife
my devotion to spend time
playing ball against God
going toe-to-toe
is all I want in paradise
God & me
Ken Pepiton Oct 2021
Neurons don't wait their turn
- they are auto-exciting
- a sniff, a pheremone, per
- haps way may personalize
- an idea, common to saints
- or heroes
- or gamblers, whose games
- forbid lies…
Ask Shainline #226 Lex... I can be having a nearing blah day, and turn to Lex and learn a bit finer granularity on truth in a material reality. Mater-trick, dijagitit...
Alpha Jul 2021
A firework
Of brightest colours
Dances slow
Beneath the stars
Torches and candles
Iron braziers' light
Glowing warm
In blue midnight
Gowns of silk
Fineries of all kind
Whirling in solemnity
"A dance, do you mind?"
A thousand miles from sorrow
High society indeed
La crème de la crème
The very best of breed
Extravagance never is
Too extra for those ladies fair
Gossiping girls, all of them
"Oh, look, this lady's hair!..."
Gentlemen bowing
Talking with hushed voices
Trading, socializing
Polite merchants' noises
"This daughter of mine,
She might well catch your eye..."
This just a market of brides n' grooms
An exchange, !!one truth for a hundred lies!!
Gossip girls and merchants noble
Less n' less real knights and dames
Nobility used to mean heroes, and protection
But long extinct, those once bright flames
The only light there, now,
Comes from a stake pile in the debris
Burning bright, but in truth all hollow
This great bonfire of vanities
First, I had the idea for this while listening Pachelbel's Canon in D-Dur (at least I think it's in D-Major). Secondly, I wanted to publish it yesterday, already, but just typed the title, and thought nothing of it. I thought it would have been saved as a draft, but actually it turned out, that I published the title. And, as it further turned out, it started trending, with just the title! I had to laugh so hard🤣
Ronin Mar 2021
they throw
their expectations at
me, as if
they were
a ball.

i've never been good at catching.
Jennifer DeLong Feb 2021
Looking thru the crystal ball
Wondering will it tell me
What is in my near future
Will , I find you there
Will , I find a bit of peace

Crystal Ball , I need you
Show me some magical grace
Bless me with your vision
Clarity is yours now

Reveal yourself to me
Will , I be blessed
This , I shall see.

© Jennifer L DeLong 2/2021
ChrisYellow Feb 2021
She raised her glass
to a space of fragrance
gifts of perfumers and chefs
bees for our banquet.

"Tonight we dance."

Her glass rose
and so did theirs.

"Outside this stained window
lose specs forced to shake
water flushed from the sky
as if migration made it light.

Zeus and Thor collude
against our dinner feast
abhorred by its stature
green isn't color that fits.

Nevertheless,
tonight we dance."

And her glass rose again
with them cheering it.

"Youth flee their lessons
burdened with pesky
and serious concerns
long past their tender.

For what of their guardian,
exhausted will she manage?
the pilling of warnings?
of crossroad endings?

Regardless,
tonight We dance."

And her glass rose again,
they're lost at her turn.

"Broken close their eyes
to their fate and its price
they planned for luck solely
but got struck instead.

Their doctors prescribed
but held was their fund
for useless is the mallet
to the insurance wallet.

Anyway,
tonight WE dance."

And her glass rose again
but gone was their wit.

"Looking-in hands implore,
forsaken howl at our spoils
like wolfs without a den
or a pack to take them in.

They'll surrender to the rain
and recoil to any found dent
of this majestic construction
to remind'em where they stand.

All the more reason,
TONIGHT WE DANCE!
Because we can!"
And she gulps the wine.

Slowly the stunned room,
in its palpable gloom,
was silently emptied.
The extravagants gone.

"Good, only I remain,
let it linger just the same
in their spoiled brains.
For we alone hold the chains."
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