Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"auspices" poems
Dar Al-Hekma University hosted its second fashion show on Sunday that featured the work of its second batch of fashion design undergraduates. The event, titled “Luminosity” was held under the auspices of Princess Reem **** Muhammad Al-Faisal. President of the university Dr. Suhair Hassan Al-Qurashi said: “Providing such events to our students before graduation exposes them to industry leaders of their prospective industries and gives them a head start in their careers. “Dar Al-Hekma University’s students stand out because of the combination of their high caliber and the opportunities the university provides for them.” Along with industry leaders, families of participating students attended. The event started with an opening speech by the department chair for the fashion design program Dina Kattan, who then introduced the sophomore and junior students’ work. Afterward, models wearing three-piece collection garments designed by senior students scheduled to graduate this year took the stage and were graded by four judges. Kattan said: “I am so proud of the work my students presented today; they worked really hard and they deserve a big hand. “Everyone was impressed with the level of creativity and attention to detail they demonstrated.” The judges were Batool Jamjoom, businesswoman in the fashion industry and manager and owner of Jamjoom Fashion House; Amra Alabdalilsharif, director of the innovation and visual merchandising department at Rubaiyyat; Dalal Al-Hasan, a fashion designer; and Aram Kabbani, Dar Al-Hekma alumna and fashion stylist. The grades students received during the fashion show will form part of their final grade. One of the students whose designs were featured at the show, Zahar Algain, said her collection was inspired by Mexican artist Frida Kahlo. “Studying fashion has altered my perspective. I view fashion, in the same way that I view life; it’s a matter of balance and proportions. “My interest in avant-garde fashion has led me to believe in using creativity to solve difficult situations. Algain’s collection was meant to blur the line between art and fashion. “It is inspired by Frida Kahlo but with a fictional twist. “The story behind my collection is a daydream, a magical love story, an artwork; it is splattered with Frida’s colorful soul and spirit.” Following this women only event, Dar Al-Hekma is organizing a one-day fashion design exhibition on Tuesday, which is open to all. The event starts from 7 p.m.Read more here:www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-adelaide | www.marieaustralia.com/long-formal-dresses
0
May 12, 2015
May 12, 2015 at 11:09 PM UTC
Dar Al-Hekma’s second fashion show becomes an industry hit
Dar Al-Hekma University hosted its second fashion show on Sunday that featured the work of its second batch of fashion design undergraduates. The event, titled “Luminosity” was held under the auspices of Princess Reem **** Muhammad Al-Faisal. President of the university Dr. Suhair Hassan Al-Qurashi said: “Providing such events to our students before graduation exposes them to industry leaders of their prospective industries and gives them a head start in their careers. “Dar Al-Hekma University’s students stand out because of the combination of their high caliber and the opportunities the university provides for them.” Along with industry leaders, families of participating students attended. The event started with an opening speech by the department chair for the fashion design program Dina Kattan, who then introduced the sophomore and junior students’ work. Afterward, models wearing three-piece collection garments designed by senior students scheduled to graduate this year took the stage and were graded by four judges. Kattan said: “I am so proud of the work my students presented today; they worked really hard and they deserve a big hand. “Everyone was impressed with the level of creativity and attention to detail they demonstrated.” The judges were Batool Jamjoom, businesswoman in the fashion industry and manager and owner of Jamjoom Fashion House; Amra Alabdalilsharif, director of the innovation and visual merchandising department at Rubaiyyat; Dalal Al-Hasan, a fashion designer; and Aram Kabbani, Dar Al-Hekma alumna and fashion stylist. The grades students received during the fashion show will form part of their final grade. One of the students whose designs were featured at the show, Zahar Algain, said her collection was inspired by Mexican artist Frida Kahlo. “Studying fashion has altered my perspective. I view fashion, in the same way that I view life; it’s a matter of balance and proportions. “My interest in avant-garde fashion has led me to believe in using creativity to solve difficult situations. Algain’s collection was meant to blur the line between art and fashion. “It is inspired by Frida Kahlo but with a fictional twist. “The story behind my collection is a daydream, a magical love story, an artwork; it is splattered with Frida’s colorful soul and spirit.” Following this women only event, Dar Al-Hekma is organizing a one-day fashion design exhibition on Tuesday, which is open to all. The event starts from 7 p.m.Read more here:www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-adelaide | www.marieaustralia.com/long-formal-dresses
Continue reading...
12
The preacher scrubbed your sins away absolved you under rafters under fire under auspices Of books with dust in bindings layed down many lifetimes thick. But a preacher needs a pulpit like a fish requires scales Without the choir, no pool to swim. Senators tell you sweetened lies that half us want to hear two per state means only saying "Sorry," 'bout half the time to half the people, sometimes. But a liar needs your two ears and a moment of your time No need for snake oil when you're well. McGowan is a drinker, true draining oceans of pints dry under fire under praises, too From quarters high and lowly his legend laid down thickly But a preacher needs a pulpit and McGowan needs a page Needs pen in hand and needs a stage Otherwise, he's just a "Shane."
0
Oct 26, 2012
Oct 26, 2012 at 7:01 PM UTC
Priests, and Liars and Shane McGowan
If his bed was empty, where once red poppies bobbed a sled downhill. It became colder and thin ice grew. From the starting gate, they fell, spawned indifference, for they were like two horses, stabled in the face. Reined for the show. With blue ribbons in their eyes, so very prim and proper in public eyes. Away, their tongues at war, fueling the armies, in their eyes. He cried the impending emptiness, warmth and love, the empty bed. The pound of fish on Fridays. And slices of cake, where the red poppies come to thrive and the sled cherishing the ride. Yet. Blind not to her vices and him. Their marriage dissolved. Infidelity in her back pocket and undoubtedly a bigger sled. Where are my angels, he cried so often the last thirty years of darkness. Where unfortunate endings replaced auspices beginnings and shadow dancing replaced romance. See through a lone wolf distancing from the pack. Logan Robertson 5/17/2018
0
May 17, 2018
May 17, 2018 at 5:55 AM UTC
He Went Howling Into The Night
Paradise Men falling from the sky using parachutes of peacock plumage hues The professionals plummeting in perfect spirals The novices sheepishly prolonging their gentle, gliding drop The salmon shade adobe dwellings with their thatched, lovely roofs Shelter me in their auspices from an unforgiving star Handmade tiles of authentic design line each steep stone step A covert staircase leading nowhere, we lounge near the pool by day There I observe a couple through a sour tequila haze A scarlet clad native and her sometime American lover Their hands never leave each other’s guilty bodies, sexually charged His absence of wedding ring betrays his intended affair In the distance crushing waves claim territory on the shoreline I underestimate; in a death roll I lose all sense of direction The blushing sky with rosy smile watches over its children A lighthouse by its lonesome guards the cliffs from clumsy ship Locals sell their wares by approaching fair-skinned tourists Necklaces of beads require long hours of work Their labor goes unappreciated, sells for meager dollar Popcorn man blows his lonely, dissonant horn forever Into the deaf night
0
Jan 8, 2011
Jan 8, 2011 at 6:17 AM UTC
58. Lighthouse 1/1/11
Like Oedipus I am losing my sight. LIke Judas I have done my wrong. Their punishment is over; the shame and disgrace of it are all used up. But as for me, look into my face and you will know that crimes dropped upon me as from a high building and although I cannot speak of them or explain the degrading details I have remembered much about Judas - about Judas, the old and the famous - that you overlooked. The story of his life is the story of mine. I have one glass eye. My nerves push against its painted surface but the other one waiting for judgement continues to see . . . Of course the New Testament is very small. Its mouth opens four times - as out-of-date as a prehistoric monster, yet somehow man-made held together by pullies like the stone jaw of a back-hoe. It gouges out the Judaic ground, taking its own backyard like a ****** daughter. And furthermore how did Judas come into it - that Judas Iscariot, belonging to the tribe of Reuben? He should have tried to lift him up there! His neck like an iron pole, hard as Newcastle, his heart as stiff as beeswax, his legs swollen and unmarked, his other limbs still growing. All of it heavy! That dead weight that would have been his fault . He should have known! In the first place who builds up such ugliness? I think of this man saying . . . Look! Here's the price to do it plus the cost of the raw materials and if it took him three or four days to do it, then, they'd understand. They figured it weighed enough to support a man. They said, fifteen stone is the approximate weight of a thief. Its ugliness is a matter of custom. If there was a mistake made then the Crucifix was constructed wrong . . . not from the quality of the pine, not from hanging a mirror, not from dropping the studding or the drill but from having an inspriation. But Judas was not a genius or under the auspices of an inspiration. I don't know whether it was gold or silver. I don't know why he betrayed him other than his motives, other than the avaricious and dishonest man. And then there were the forbidden crimes, those that were expressly foretold, and then overlooked and then forgotten except by me . . . Judas had a mother just as I had a mother. Oh! Honor and relish the facts! Do not think of the intense sensation I have as I tell you this but think only . . . Judas had a mother. His mother had a dream. Because of this dream he was altogether managed by fate and thus he ***** her. As a crime we hear little of this. Also he sold his God.
0
2.6k
The Legend Of The One-Eyed Man
Like Oedipus I am losing my sight. LIke Judas I have done my wrong. Their punishment is over; the shame and disgrace of it are all used up. But as for me, look into my face and you will know that crimes dropped upon me as from a high building and although I cannot speak of them or explain the degrading details I have remembered much about Judas - about Judas, the old and the famous - that you overlooked. The story of his life is the story of mine. I have one glass eye. My nerves push against its painted surface but the other one waiting for judgement continues to see . . . Of course the New Testament is very small. Its mouth opens four times - as out-of-date as a prehistoric monster, yet somehow man-made held together by pullies like the stone jaw of a back-hoe. It gouges out the Judaic ground, taking its own backyard like a ****** daughter. And furthermore how did Judas come into it - that Judas Iscariot, belonging to the tribe of Reuben? He should have tried to lift him up there! His neck like an iron pole, hard as Newcastle, his heart as stiff as beeswax, his legs swollen and unmarked, his other limbs still growing. All of it heavy! That dead weight that would have been his fault . He should have known! In the first place who builds up such ugliness? I think of this man saying . . . Look! Here's the price to do it plus the cost of the raw materials and if it took him three or four days to do it, then, they'd understand. They figured it weighed enough to support a man. They said, fifteen stone is the approximate weight of a thief. Its ugliness is a matter of custom. If there was a mistake made then the Crucifix was constructed wrong . . . not from the quality of the pine, not from hanging a mirror, not from dropping the studding or the drill but from having an inspriation. But Judas was not a genius or under the auspices of an inspiration. I don't know whether it was gold or silver. I don't know why he betrayed him other than his motives, other than the avaricious and dishonest man. And then there were the forbidden crimes, those that were expressly foretold, and then overlooked and then forgotten except by me . . . Judas had a mother just as I had a mother. Oh! Honor and relish the facts! Do not think of the intense sensation I have as I tell you this but think only . . . Judas had a mother. His mother had a dream. Because of this dream he was altogether managed by fate and thus he ***** her. As a crime we hear little of this. Also he sold his God.
Continue reading...
85
Parsimony Antipathy or Prudent Hostility Locked-up Cuspid Of the One Celled Organism As the Augury tends to its Auspices oddities One Weak Ordeal and your reward will be handsome Ceteris paribus when Ockham’s blade gets dull Get a loan from your Karma or come back as amoebae Hearts won’t be practical until they’re unbreakable. But if you hear hoofbeats, think horses, not zebras. Sometime this week I’ll hang from the gallows Every drip of the tallow brings closer the end But I’ve got this imp secured in this bottle And you can have him for a price less than a penny Yeah, I’ve got a genie who’ll grant all your wishes Just pay for this bottle and your family gets fed But act fast, for soon I **** my last twitches By this time tomorrow I could very well be dead Salivating tadpoles for Hegemony crickets All imprisoned here with this repressionist peasant By a singular stroke into Jove’s black booklet Lucidly errant, who hasn’t been flippant? Clever Arachne, my love, oh thou immodest spider All I ever wanted, she picked a fine time to leave us My days squandered eavesdropping Apocalypse riders But if you hear hoofbeats, think horses, not zebras. Sometime this week I’ll hang from the gallows Every drip of the tallow brings closer the end But I’ve got this imp secured in this bottle And you can have him for a price less than a penny Yeah, I’ve got a genie who’ll grant all your wishes Just pay for this bottle and your family gets fed But act fast, for soon I **** my last twitches By this time tomorrow I could very well be dead
0
Jan 2, 2013
Jan 2, 2013 at 11:29 AM UTC
The Unexpected Hanging Paradox
Parsimony Antipathy or Prudent Hostility Locked-up Cuspid Of the One Celled Organism As the Augury tends to its Auspices oddities One Weak Ordeal and your reward will be handsome Ceteris paribus when Ockham’s blade gets dull Get a loan from your Karma or come back as amoebae Hearts won’t be practical until they’re unbreakable. But if you hear hoofbeats, think horses, not zebras. Sometime this week I’ll hang from the gallows Every drip of the tallow brings closer the end But I’ve got this imp secured in this bottle And you can have him for a price less than a penny Yeah, I’ve got a genie who’ll grant all your wishes Just pay for this bottle and your family gets fed But act fast, for soon I **** my last twitches By this time tomorrow I could very well be dead Salivating tadpoles for Hegemony crickets All imprisoned here with this repressionist peasant By a singular stroke into Jove’s black booklet Lucidly errant, who hasn’t been flippant? Clever Arachne, my love, oh thou immodest spider All I ever wanted, she picked a fine time to leave us My days squandered eavesdropping Apocalypse riders But if you hear hoofbeats, think horses, not zebras. Sometime this week I’ll hang from the gallows Every drip of the tallow brings closer the end But I’ve got this imp secured in this bottle And you can have him for a price less than a penny Yeah, I’ve got a genie who’ll grant all your wishes Just pay for this bottle and your family gets fed But act fast, for soon I **** my last twitches By this time tomorrow I could very well be dead
Continue reading...
34
Tango like there is ****** no gravity, Fading up into the winds of levity. Felt the world's stories on my shoulders, 'Tween Heaven and Hell, an epic I tell. Smitten, in a flash, she deftly kissed me, A smooch of death, the fragrance of tea. Spying the end is to be in heavy debt, To the unseen origin, now of inspect. Vexed for larcenous dogs stole my nova, Patience of the Everest; pressured lava, Toward the high noon sun, soaring too fast, Warming our visage, winds behind a full mast. Colorful beams from heights of the precipice, The monolith painting chromatic auspices, Yet the churning oceans voice their unrest, Against shields of Earth, the Hydra will test. I can hear the green, caressed by a breeze, Through the wet looking glass, I was seized. A brazen gasp of life lifts the starry shroud, Swim through the maze of a microcosmic cloud.
0
Oct 19, 2010
Oct 19, 2010 at 3:15 PM UTC
Lecherous Blades of Grass
Your beauty is like a naked sword Which will cut me in to small pieces My love my love is above board Love nurtures under beauty auspices When you show your graces in light My eyes feel being intoxicated in trance Your kisses are so gorgeous to delight I want to take just chance after chance Let us celebrate love moments in trance Let us just forget about all our rivals Let us don't forget the taste of the glance Let me kiss your lips like flower petals Col Muhammad Khalid Khan Copyright 2016 Golden Glow
0
Oct 16, 2016
Oct 16, 2016 at 3:10 PM UTC
Like Naked Sword
those kohl rimmed eyes soak a tristesse beyond words, bitter sweet memories which now lie buried in the sands of time.... underneath that ram-tough exterior lies a delicate lily clad in chanel vulnerable enough to wither under the auspices of a full moon © 2021
0
Jul 23, 2021
Jul 23, 2021 at 10:59 PM UTC
tall beauty(a metaphor)
Sometimes I'm lost Left to wonder do you care I'm the one who has to pay the cost In my heart you'll find a tear Sometimes I search Someone take your place Light me up like a torch I need to solve this case Sometimes I'm broken into pieces I look to others to be mended I think of you and the hurt increases You, I've never really needed Sometimes I'm confused How can you just leave I feel so abused I'm whole, thats what I want to believe Sometimes I'm empty Someone fill these spaces, you? So much uncertainty How could you just forget us, I haven't a clue Sometimes I'm ignorant Not a single thing have I been told Never recieved the slightest hint I strive for the truth that you hold Sometimes I wonder What if you had been there I know I can do without, still I ponder Though sometimes the pain is almost to much to bare. Sometimes I'm needing Why weren't you there to minister auspices My mascara is bleeding But just like you, I make sure to leave no traces Sometimes I see Daughter and father With me, this will never be Recycling cognitation why do I bother?
0
Nov 25, 2011
Nov 25, 2011 at 9:23 AM UTC
Daughter and Father
Gay time parade's wherewith the colors fly high, Masks of all columbine where artist's passeth by!!! Temptious women wherewith two world's become one, As shadow's read the mountains of guru's and lost son's!!! Timeweeping keepers of pocket\switch blade's, Wherein haircut's are riddles, as lips turn to fade!!! Scientific genious of law's gone thwarted, Olympian of krip-tonight, Oh calamitous runt!!! Enter not , Sais the hourglass auspices ventriloquist!!!! All Hater's pique despite peanut buttered pies!!! Societal havoc of sweated Baguette's, Wherewith sweater's touch winter letter's, Of lost cigarettes!!! White lies are highly mounted to protect ourn outter shells, Where hellion can possess thy inner best of masculinities feminine selves!!!! White-out conditions, Schemers to invention, Taketh what thou hath.......                                                 And leave the scroll set scene!!!!
0
May 26, 2015
May 26, 2015 at 6:02 PM UTC
Whiteout zombies...
The sky is the quartermaster But you are it’s eyes, Currying favor from Life’s narrow surprise; The days of your weather Arrive fair or foul, Delivering artifice; As much as allowed. I sail in your auspices, Partake of your airs; Not minding the skies, Whether cloudy or clear, For found nowhere else Are the things you are giving; And till your arrival, It’s not really living.
0
Jul 2, 2010
Jul 2, 2010 at 4:27 PM UTC
The sky is the quartermaster
I landed here Alone Deposited. Instinctively I searched for friendly faces Guides and teachers To show me who I was And where to go. This body, face and family Was not me. My clothes, my voice, my knowledge Was not me. I needed help I was a human and had human need: Hope,heart and humour were a start. I landed first on Mars and sought protection from a mighty arm But arms that hug can hold too tightly and too long. So up to Jupiter I looked 'Oh father Sky God, keep me safe!' But, 'Oh by Jove!' The auspices that came as doves Brought thunder too And frightened me. To Uranus I fled, and fled again as he detested me And meant me harm. The weekend beckons; Saturn's next, the Golden Age of Man Feast and plenty Five and twenty. But no! Move on. The moon awaits And love and lust and Soma from the gods- But werewolves howl and madness lurks. Neptune swims by and draws me in To nuptials And I float awhile upon the tide, Losing myself in another. Pluto gives me wealth But rules the underworld Where wealth can take you If you bide its rules. A young man next, so fare of face,an orator, A man of letters: Mercury, quick silver Changing with the wind. A messenger, a vessel merely He steals and is the God of thieves. A thief who tends the dying. Nothing is his or of him; he takes and smiles and moves then moves on. And then to Mother Earth, The Titan, Gaia. And what is earth? The dirt beneath my feet from which I look up To the heavens. My feet are black and bruised My eyes are open My toes can feel the grit I feel the air upon my face. This now is me.
0
Sep 14, 2016
Sep 14, 2016 at 10:25 AM UTC
I landed here
I landed here Alone Deposited. Instinctively I searched for friendly faces Guides and teachers To show me who I was And where to go. This body, face and family Was not me. My clothes, my voice, my knowledge Was not me. I needed help I was a human and had human need: Hope,heart and humour were a start. I landed first on Mars and sought protection from a mighty arm But arms that hug can hold too tightly and too long. So up to Jupiter I looked 'Oh father Sky God, keep me safe!' But, 'Oh by Jove!' The auspices that came as doves Brought thunder too And frightened me. To Uranus I fled, and fled again as he detested me And meant me harm. The weekend beckons; Saturn's next, the Golden Age of Man Feast and plenty Five and twenty. But no! Move on. The moon awaits And love and lust and Soma from the gods- But werewolves howl and madness lurks. Neptune swims by and draws me in To nuptials And I float awhile upon the tide, Losing myself in another. Pluto gives me wealth But rules the underworld Where wealth can take you If you bide its rules. A young man next, so fare of face,an orator, A man of letters: Mercury, quick silver Changing with the wind. A messenger, a vessel merely He steals and is the God of thieves. A thief who tends the dying. Nothing is his or of him; he takes and smiles and moves then moves on. And then to Mother Earth, The Titan, Gaia. And what is earth? The dirt beneath my feet from which I look up To the heavens. My feet are black and bruised My eyes are open My toes can feel the grit I feel the air upon my face. This now is me.
Continue reading...
55
Circa Holy Roman Empire between ninth and thirteenth century after common era (approximately 800 AD and 1200 AD) benchmark year 780 bracketed Benedictine monks of Corbie Abbey devised cheeky guttural lingual rapartee vis a vis European calligraphic standard script inked lined writ via extant Irish and English monastic members nsync strong influence of Irish literati eased communication popular Latin cognoscenti common lingua franca spawned Carolingian Renaissance Codices, pagan and Christian text plus educational material written viz Carolingian minuscule Emperor Charlemagne issued prescription (hence named Carolingian) boosted unified modus operandi he advocated learning, though somewhat illiterate recognized value of education predicated on singular codified regional alphabet, the then webbed wide world linkedin, sans uniform symbolic shapes uncontested salient advantage offered up ease to master clear distinct explicit letter formation simple logic boosted rapidly transmitted standardization, especially with exceptional legible readable characteristic adequate spaces between words Merovingian "chancery hand" still reserved to draft traditional charters Gothic and Anglo Saxon favored traditional local script as opposed to Latin learning latter involved less tricked out embellished flourishes or interconnected strokes drawn by a scribe allowing, enabling, and providing greater popularity to teach masses, latent etymological nuances apparent centuries following implementation quasi initial Carolingian letters steadfast, where Carolingian influence moats strong adopted local stylistic signature flavor divergence woke since proliferation stoking diffuse prospects decreeing entrenched footing, where auspices boded prescient until groundswell didst surcease sub limb mated into modern patois.
0
May 14, 2018
May 14, 2018 at 7:39 PM UTC
Carolingian Minuscule
Circa Holy Roman Empire between ninth and thirteenth century after common era (approximately 800 AD and 1200 AD) benchmark year 780 bracketed Benedictine monks of Corbie Abbey devised cheeky guttural lingual rapartee vis a vis European calligraphic standard script inked lined writ via extant Irish and English monastic members nsync strong influence of Irish literati eased communication popular Latin cognoscenti common lingua franca spawned Carolingian Renaissance Codices, pagan and Christian text plus educational material written viz Carolingian minuscule Emperor Charlemagne issued prescription (hence named Carolingian) boosted unified modus operandi he advocated learning, though somewhat illiterate recognized value of education predicated on singular codified regional alphabet, the then webbed wide world linkedin, sans uniform symbolic shapes uncontested salient advantage offered up ease to master clear distinct explicit letter formation simple logic boosted rapidly transmitted standardization, especially with exceptional legible readable characteristic adequate spaces between words Merovingian "chancery hand" still reserved to draft traditional charters Gothic and Anglo Saxon favored traditional local script as opposed to Latin learning latter involved less tricked out embellished flourishes or interconnected strokes drawn by a scribe allowing, enabling, and providing greater popularity to teach masses, latent etymological nuances apparent centuries following implementation quasi initial Carolingian letters steadfast, where Carolingian influence moats strong adopted local stylistic signature flavor divergence woke since proliferation stoking diffuse prospects decreeing entrenched footing, where auspices boded prescient until groundswell didst surcease sub limb mated into modern patois.
Continue reading...
62
TLACAELEL [to audience as spectators] Hear ye! Of these five games, his majesty The emperor has won the first two rounds, And Hungry Prince has crowned the third and fourth. Who takes this final set will clinch the match. HUNGRY PRINCE [aside to Motecuhzoma] Motecuhzoma, why not call it quits, While thus we tilt in equilibrium, So time may be arrested in his stride, And nothing will be proven to your loss. MOTECUHZOMA Oh yes, well, well you should prevaricate, Since you recoil, and your horoscope Is but a bunk, evasive, spurious sham. HUNGRY PRINCE We used to sport like willful brothers once. This pointless schism scathes me to the core. MOTECUHZOMA Play on! Your grace, equip him for the serve. PRIEST OF TLALOC Behold this little token of a ball- Through this ordeal, symbolic of the sun When- swallowed nightly by the earth’s dark mouth- He spars with demons of the underworld, To birth anew at dawn. So does this sphere, Across the blood-bathed flagstones of this court. Regard it so. The gods assort you both. To one: bask in divine approval’s nod, The other: dark ignominy. Engage! He throws the ball to HUNGRY PRINCE. MOTECUHZOMA and HUNGRY PRINCE leave the stage separately. TLACAELEL A solid serve. PRIEST OF TLALOC A capital return. TLACAELEL These salt-and-pepper gents belie their age. Look how they swoop, like eagles bloody-beaked. PRIEST OF TLALOC Our monarch springs, a glistening dynamo. TLACAELEL And his contender sheds years as he runs. Tell me, your eminence, What are your sentiments on Hungry Prince? PRIEST OF TLALOC Though not a brilliant statesman, he remains The most perceptive prophet of the earth, With whom the gods must share their captain’s logs, His auspices so rarely miss their mark. TLACAELEL You’d buy his soothsaying? PRIEST OF TLALOC I'd say I would. TLACAELEL That’s to the heart of this imbroglio. PRIEST OF TLALOC What is the real dispute, then, of this duel? TLACAELEL You’d know their true contention? PRIEST OF TLALOC Tell me. TLACAELEL So . . .
0
Oct 12, 2016
Oct 12, 2016 at 3:11 PM UTC
The Floral War 1:5:1-38
TLACAELEL [to audience as spectators] Hear ye! Of these five games, his majesty The emperor has won the first two rounds, And Hungry Prince has crowned the third and fourth. Who takes this final set will clinch the match. HUNGRY PRINCE [aside to Motecuhzoma] Motecuhzoma, why not call it quits, While thus we tilt in equilibrium, So time may be arrested in his stride, And nothing will be proven to your loss. MOTECUHZOMA Oh yes, well, well you should prevaricate, Since you recoil, and your horoscope Is but a bunk, evasive, spurious sham. HUNGRY PRINCE We used to sport like willful brothers once. This pointless schism scathes me to the core. MOTECUHZOMA Play on! Your grace, equip him for the serve. PRIEST OF TLALOC Behold this little token of a ball- Through this ordeal, symbolic of the sun When- swallowed nightly by the earth’s dark mouth- He spars with demons of the underworld, To birth anew at dawn. So does this sphere, Across the blood-bathed flagstones of this court. Regard it so. The gods assort you both. To one: bask in divine approval’s nod, The other: dark ignominy. Engage! He throws the ball to HUNGRY PRINCE. MOTECUHZOMA and HUNGRY PRINCE leave the stage separately. TLACAELEL A solid serve. PRIEST OF TLALOC A capital return. TLACAELEL These salt-and-pepper gents belie their age. Look how they swoop, like eagles bloody-beaked. PRIEST OF TLALOC Our monarch springs, a glistening dynamo. TLACAELEL And his contender sheds years as he runs. Tell me, your eminence, What are your sentiments on Hungry Prince? PRIEST OF TLALOC Though not a brilliant statesman, he remains The most perceptive prophet of the earth, With whom the gods must share their captain’s logs, His auspices so rarely miss their mark. TLACAELEL You’d buy his soothsaying? PRIEST OF TLALOC I'd say I would. TLACAELEL That’s to the heart of this imbroglio. PRIEST OF TLALOC What is the real dispute, then, of this duel? TLACAELEL You’d know their true contention? PRIEST OF TLALOC Tell me. TLACAELEL So . . .
Continue reading...
58
~1~ INFAMOUS In the world's eyes rising to fame falling in SAME ~2~ OVERSEERS Government under the careful auspices of the Major Corporations ~3~ SOUL SIFTER The wheels of fate grind us fine bad fortune sifts 10W Soul Survivor
0
Mar 20, 2014
Mar 20, 2014 at 1:11 PM UTC
three thoughts 10W
The advance of spices Found in today's shyness The shrewd and spry, auspices Of a count of succinctly, the face you make is... My favor of sincerity Such an uncertain cue, to look the other way...? And know the silence, has a question in all civility Does a sly thought, have the best of well, your day? Dawn, the silver of the clouds Has just fallen in love; with a coming star...? Sharing only the mornings rustling, of breezes and towns The taste of seclusion with a joy here, never to far... Noon, the more we modernly save, the time Happy was a heralded ordeal, of handsomeness's stone We take to resolve, for another solution of sides We are with, the kindness and the insist, of complication... Dusk, and the fools of surmisal, have become realer silence... The stare of synchronicity and its terror, love Has the day for another you, with a realm to signify, the end Of a wishing sky; a simpler earth, hungry for a covenant... And the night of a lands court... Made to order, and seldom, the love of forces we describe As mercy, to an angel's heart, the very first vanity to flirt Has you by a king, notice a queen share a kiss with life... Any and all, the resolute masses, take their time... Here, and the space for vanity to understate hell With whose tongue; we know the contrite, the pain, and exodus of rights? Of a coulding mirror? so did the candor it took to say desire's day, and all's well... With the light and the shadow... Spirit in my hand, or estrange a hair for a carnal blossom I've seen your care become a salt, an imagination of milk and honey That has a jew for you, a waiting wall of accord that has seen, loves and hates shown...
0
Oct 16, 2023
Oct 16, 2023 at 6:57 PM UTC
Look At The Time, Admit Herb Looks Pretty...
The advance of spices Found in today's shyness The shrewd and spry, auspices Of a count of succinctly, the face you make is... My favor of sincerity Such an uncertain cue, to look the other way...? And know the silence, has a question in all civility Does a sly thought, have the best of well, your day? Dawn, the silver of the clouds Has just fallen in love; with a coming star...? Sharing only the mornings rustling, of breezes and towns The taste of seclusion with a joy here, never to far... Noon, the more we modernly save, the time Happy was a heralded ordeal, of handsomeness's stone We take to resolve, for another solution of sides We are with, the kindness and the insist, of complication... Dusk, and the fools of surmisal, have become realer silence... The stare of synchronicity and its terror, love Has the day for another you, with a realm to signify, the end Of a wishing sky; a simpler earth, hungry for a covenant... And the night of a lands court... Made to order, and seldom, the love of forces we describe As mercy, to an angel's heart, the very first vanity to flirt Has you by a king, notice a queen share a kiss with life... Any and all, the resolute masses, take their time... Here, and the space for vanity to understate hell With whose tongue; we know the contrite, the pain, and exodus of rights? Of a coulding mirror? so did the candor it took to say desire's day, and all's well... With the light and the shadow... Spirit in my hand, or estrange a hair for a carnal blossom I've seen your care become a salt, an imagination of milk and honey That has a jew for you, a waiting wall of accord that has seen, loves and hates shown...
Continue reading...
32
The auspices of a divided column seep Into lengthy karmic powders so deep Met again with the reactionaries of life Bringing them home in their state of strife How they danced and bled eternity Vaguely colorful trails soon followed their glee Which divided into that same column Ceremoniously bringing all of the sum To explode and transform Reinventing the wonder of yesteryear Seeping out of the creator's tear
0
Jul 4, 2016
Jul 4, 2016 at 6:45 PM UTC
******
Under the auspices of healing we whisper incantations in the dark warm breath in cold air lit by moonlight employing physics and drawing circles doing everything we can to hang on Caught in the pressure, twig snaps tambourine shakes on twos and fours I am bouncing on the ***** of my feet muscles tense, coiled, and ready I refuse to fight your ghost or engage in debate with any demons I will let the wave reach over my head and crash down behind me I will float in your salty embrace under skies gray and foreboding
0
Aug 25, 2014
Aug 25, 2014 at 7:26 PM UTC
Gradual descent
Electorate now educated by and through the auspices of internet, decisions carrying a world of weight are swayed by Facebook posts. Small wonder why the grins and gigged brains voted into power don't need to think about vox populi; anonymous vox dei spins the lies into their pseudo-truth six times an hour. What passes now for discourse or debate are statuses, conflicting rumors checked unscrupulously for what shreds of fact they may contain. God help the candidate who actually has a plan to put in play; the way that can be spoken's not the way.
0
Jan 12, 2016
Jan 12, 2016 at 2:36 AM UTC
GIGO
Trust could trust her if I do not know how it begins In the beginning It begins With a thought Temporal displacement Displayed existence Electric highways Self. Automations. Neon soul for an old world order White whips and black paper for the new Climbing into the buggie Dont forgot to kick the mud off your shoe Shoe shoe shoe Away with the coddle ****** morphing Crocodile waddles Two too many mutating scenarios There is no free water Costs to talk A fee to stare Quantified by freaks lazily writing the word for millennia Auspices of control The third eye begets the third eye
0
Dec 4, 2015
Dec 4, 2015 at 11:00 AM UTC
W.I.P #12 In Secure City
When the body politic, long fleeced, begins to understand, I believe that local weathermen will be in high demand. Our politicians will all be seen as having feet of clay; Venial types who sway according to the winds each day. Weathermen are truthful; weather girls the same. They tell us when it’s going to snow and when it will turn to rain. Their forecasts aren’t perfect but I believe they try. They consult the Doppler oracle and gaze into the sky. They, daily, take the auspices like some archaic priests. They prophesize the temperature for cold snaps in the East. They are the only public voices who do not spin or lie They don’t fall back on talking points or dare debate the sky So if we now choose presidents from their appearance on T.V. I nominate Bill Evans for president and Storm Field for V.P.
0
Jan 13, 2018
Jan 13, 2018 at 11:35 AM UTC
Vote for Weatherman
solely reduced to communicate via my choice online mode (ease of use preference via Facebook Messenger), candidate said Modus Operandi aye find tubby great even though this papa doth hate to say "good bye..." after lingering delay followed by "I love you" swallowing tears irate as bittersweet poignant end ding our irregular chat as if (analogously)...aye ab duck kate (albeit temporarily), the joyous role of fatherhood especially denoting young womanhood of late said offspring, I helped beget (with ma mate) i.e. wife (which marriage experienced rough patches) nine or so months ceased to ovulate just a tad more'n nineteen Earth Orbitz ago as reckoned via dull lix gray matter encapsulated within thine barnacle encrusted pate her virtual presence encountered earlier today - March 24th, 2018 doth highly rate as supremely blessed, through swallowed sadness sans tete a tete only after clicking end conversation does this dada (with genuine muffled sobs) ululate agonizing with reality empty nest syndrome asper averred second daughter aye helped yes sire re:) to beget whose tender loving care) under voluntary auspices sans strong willed kid sister (Shari) decision immediate decision needed tubby made (concurrence with birth mother - Abby) already couple years zipped, her homecoming (who knows when), dud dada Matthew Scott Harris must keep away fixating on requisite adulthood), argh...now...must needs wait!
0
Mar 25, 2018
Mar 25, 2018 at 12:02 AM UTC
shana aubrey harris, sans dunning
My honor was Dishonored by horns As I Approached the end part with so much greed inside my mind As I picked this words to construct a sentence bullied in pains I quote in my sentence : Im trying to live his legacy but Im dying digging my grave with Satan, Like a dumb child on his first day at school My honor look for a relationship to rewind, As I upwind life inside a boom box, Im confusion but still a toolbox Weird as my brick mansion built with grey hair from Satan skin As I was trap taps inside his kindness It's an illusion Im in a lawsuit duck They plug in the electric chains chair And I cry inside a shower cap until my vocal chord Could auspices my name . Did , I discharged my honor: Destroyed my ugly heart Simply an amazing honor As no differences between you and me My honor.
0
Mar 19, 2020
Mar 19, 2020 at 8:54 AM UTC
Devil crossbarnice