I saw her
I saw her smile
Focus out through the sparkle
Reflecting from her danglers
And the ones in the atmosphere.
Turquoise sequinned with beige
Crackers, all around her
Our first new year
Where she took me by
My hand, entangling fingers
Lacing, when she thought she'd
Lost me,skipping between
White walls and brown floors
Finding a way out
Through the maze.

Low hung ceiling lamps.

Dragging me back through my memory doors
Remains the same
White walls and brown floors
While I wait outside.

Inside you're having your chemo.

Crackers
Inside my heart
Slithering through my mouth
I see her in between
Those flinging and swinging

Prayer flags, I recollect
Hanging them in the backyard
Of our home, you
Bargained them out
A flea market, before
That year's Diwali
You had inside of you
A life that would bless us
In three months.

A tangerine Georgette Saree
And rhyming with it,
Rani colored bangles
Sneaking up on the roof.

Crackers
White walls, wooden floors
You lie quiet, unmoved.

A skyrocket ups in a distance
As I light you up in flames.

Crackers
You'd always come back
Focusing, defocusing
My memories' pitaara
Sparkling, dangling
Skipping and lacing
Through all those crackers
Lighting me up

spiral learning
spiral failing
life is always spiral
spiralling
twist me up
spin me down
give me a plastic sequinned crown
now I'm the bloated circus clown
ha ha you laugh!
at my dripping mascara and baggy pants
my **** in a bucket of sawdust
a pie in my face

the poles are pulled
the big top falls

sobbing in the stubs
and sweet smell of candies
I lie suffocating
sad and bloated
a clown in a plastic sequinned crown

Today bears the weight of erstwhile trepidation.
Uncertainties exhumed only to be hung up as ominous flags.
Black as night my widowed heart paraded through the procession.
Garbed in ash encrusted, sequinned frock, hemmed train all tattered in rags.

Herald the face with no features yet obscured behind a chiffon veil.
In hands, a bouquet of black roses, worm-eaten to the stems.
The mourning sun only gave the weakest glow,
feeble attempt to rejuvenate all that is stale;
to imbue the shimmer back into forsaken jewels and dulled gems.

Her entourage kept up with heavy feet; all grim and sullen.
Also faceless... Armed with pitchforks and torches.
Today they will draw much; having thirst for crimson.
Today they witness her death as the black parade marches.

He's accosted Kim Kardashian, Brad Pritt and Ciara, but red carpet prankster Vitalii Sediuk tried his luck with a much fiercer face on Tuesday.

The Ukrainian journalist approached US Vogue editor, Anna Wintour, outside the Chanel show at Paris Fashion Week.

Wearing a black headdress and glittery sequinned glove, Vitalli broke through the security barriers and ran up to the notoriously icy journalist as she exited the show.

With a microphone in his hand, Vitalli could be seen attempting to get her attention - but nonchalant Anna kept her cool and dismissed the prankster, striding straight past him.

Anna's security stepped in immediately and removed the prankster, who made a peace sign with his hand.

Anna is by no means the first star that Vitalli has pranked.

He famously targetted Kim Kardashian in September last year in the huge crowd that gathered around Kim and her husband Kanye's car as they arrived at the Balmain show at Paris Fashion Week, in which her sister Kendall Jenner was walking.

In bizarre scenes, Vitalii - the prankster who accosted Brad Pitt at the Maleficent premiere in Los Angeles earlier last year - was reported to have pulled Kim's hair [which he denies] and almost knocked the then 33-year-old starlet to the ground, in front of Kanye and her mother Kris Jenner.

Security quickly jumped in and escorted a shocked Kim into the building.

This was just one of the many times the former journalist has had run-ins with celebrities including America Ferrera, Leonardo DiCaprio and Jennifer Lopez.

Brad Pitt recently spoke out about the infamous run in with the now-notorious Sediuk at the Malificent premiere in Hollywood in late May.

The movie hunk said he was forced to defend himself after the Ukrainian television personality tried to 'bury his face in my crotch.'

Brad said he was having a great time mingling with fans on the red carpet, but things soon turned nasty when Sediuk sparked a melee that left the heartthrob with broken sunglasses.

He told People: 'I was at the end of the line signing autographs, when out the corner of my eye I saw someone stage-diving over the barrier at me.

'I took a step back; this guy had latched onto my lapels. I looked down and the ****** was trying to bury his face in my crotch, so I cracked him twice in the back of the head – not too hard – but enough to get his attention, because he did let go.

'I think he was then just grabbing for a hand hold because the guys were on him, and he reached up and caught my glasses.'

The Moneyball star said he likes people to have fun, but argued Sediuk's antics could end up spoiling glamorous Hollywood events for everyone else.

He said: 'I don’t mind an exhibitionist but if this guy keeps it up he’s going to spoil it for the fans who have waited up all night for an autograph or a selfie, because it will make people more wary to approach a crowd. And he should know, if he tries to look up a woman’s dress again, he’s going to get stomped.'

Sediuk was sentenced to 30 days in jail after attacking Brad at the Los Angeles premiere of Maleficent.

He was already on probation for jumping on stage with Jennifer Lopez when he jumped over a crowd barrier at the opening of Angelina Jolie's new film Maleficient and struck Brad

He was charged with assault, battery, unlawful activity at an exhibition and delay of an exhibition, received the jail sentence plus 20 days community labor, 36 months probation and a $220 fine.

read more:www.marieaustralia.com/cheap-formal-dresses

www.marieaustralia.com/princess-formal-dresses

i am

i. made of convergence of words, stems & ink.

never one to love geography but knowledgeable enough to know of the convergence of twenty six letters, wilted life givers and pigments that forms my skin. you can keep the feather light secrets resting on the petals―i only want the stem, the xylem, the phloem; to support my fragile state. you can be the pigment that stains my skin like the sun rise and sun sets i entrapped from Mother Nature. it is unfortunate the light has lost its way amongst the maze that is my veins, but i can be your light at the end of the tunnel if you don’t mind a flickering hesitant radiator. when you have mastered Taking Things Apart Without Killing, come to me and unpick the threads in my skin. maybe you’ll learn more about the words that latched upon me and if you’re lucky enough, you may uncover a raw portion i’ve hidden away. don’t forget the Lock N Lock container.

ii. held together by creaky cartilage

never one to study human anatomy but interested enough to read up and find out that i am held together by two hundred and six bones. the clavicle cradles liquefied pieces of you and the patella locks to allow the world to rest its burden on my shoulders. the sternum pieces itself and encases the lump of muscle that keeps me breathing, and cranium holds the Boss of my body. you can pick my spine and play it like a flute but please be careful for nothing resides in them. nothingness clots up my veins; nothingness fills the space between my bones; nothingness slowly taking over my senses. your October poetry piece stings me like the harsh winter wind, blows across the land and reduces my cartilage to dust. hold me like you would a newborn baby for i do not take supplement pills and i am the result of several fractured wrists & hips.

iii. harboring galaxies & objects inside

never one to take up Astronomy but aware that i harbor several milky ways and universes among the frantic chaos of every *****. flowers blossom in the crevices of my wrist bones and butterflies and birds of unnamed species flutter around in the comfort of my rib cage, just as pixies and sprites sleep and sing Church songs in the palms of my hands. sequinned galaxies swirl around in microscopic areas and i will expand until my seams burst only for me to bleed gold dust and crumpled stars. these tidal waves inside of my head won’t stop crashing until someone wakes me up to make sense of what i am and the meaning of lif

Do you remember the first piece?
Did it wrap around wrists, a Twist or Curb
hug fingers or hang round your neck holding on 
for silver or gold?
Maybe it was gunshot through ear lobes 
hot blood rush, diamond studs sit in until 
body heals and holes held open stay open
for hoops and dangles 
Is it worth your face in gold?

Does he bling too, that black boyfriend?
Is he Bead or Box or Byzantine chain
blazing bronze or phat platinum
Did you two star gaze for long
at rocks and stones and coins
stunned and dazed in all that tomfoolery?
Did you ever put his glitter on
and how long did that ice last
before melting down to a memory?

What would it mean to leave the house naked
no sequinned cloak covering 
no shiny ear lobed shimmering's 
no solid gold hood hangings
wearing just your skin to hold yourself in?
Cloth does not count, it is matterless– 
would you be worth your face without gold?

Shall we pluck intensity from the air  
and perhaps coil it soundly and
extravagantly into a petal-soft bed
of rarely seen dreaming,
where sheets of silk make textured
messages into sequinned bliss
with rainbowed moonbeams ?

Shall we take flight, you and I ?

Untried dimensions wait to take us far,
to make morning metaphors,
and catch sight of bliss
made for our breakfasting bed.

Let us capture euphoria
to feel more elation, and when
glorious sun enters,
rapturous untamed passion
shall paint light on the face
of our embrace leading to ecstasy.

Shall we make haste then to taste eternity ?

I wish you believed these cracked bones, these arching tones, my so alones. I wish you saw my broken jaw, my tooth & claw, my obvious flaws. If you would listen to why I stay in bed, & to my cringe when the voices in my head sound, then I would tell you I am nothing, why I'm lost & not found. I would tell you that me, you'll never see, & I only live hypothetically. I am a ghost spirit, chained to this body, this ***** house all the girls frequent; they each claim the same identity & 'I' is a term they each invent. They speak in careful whispers & undo zippers & wonder why no one gives a ****. They thrive in sequinned moonlights, unfought bar fights, & ponder where the day went. When things get rough I float outside my head, sit in the air, see the scene unfold; you think you speak to me, but you can't hurt me when I'm above you, friend to ceiling mould. The girls are masters of identity theft, & 'me'? Ha! There's nothing left. They love to push me into a dream; from there they rampage merrily. I thought I'd **** them, but it seems I'm live ill-vibe & bare-ily.

By the light of a sequinned moon
She had forgotten to remember
All the stars in her eyes danced to a different tune
Her feet stepped in time to the beat of her heart
Her tears dripped on the ground he walked on
Splashing then evaporating testing and informing
Candy floss clouds could no longer sweeten
Was it worth it to worship the footprints?
Her merry go round went round and round
Her memory she saw with his seesaw swing
The helter-skelter no longer sheltered
Her childhood dreams
Time to let this caged bird swim instead of sink
In the muddy puddles of his pain full eyes
And the silent words written on his skin

Hate By Love, Burning Dark
Frozen Sun, My Nightly Spark
Flashing Blades, Sequinned Steel
Frightened Stare, Can't Be Real

Maybe next year I'll tell you
I love you, the platonic type,
the words light from my mouth
as though constructed from bubbles
and you could be there, set to let them
pop against your tongue, maybe reciprocate.

The other type, I've heard, resembles falling,
but does that feel like floating, your body
when dancing, suspended in air for
a cluster of seconds before caught
by your sequinned partner, all smiles,
or is it more sinking,

we did this at primary school a few times,
the chilly, barefeet-plastered hall floor,
told to close our eyes and gently melt,
pretending we're chocolate in a microwave,
every boneless portion hopeless, floppy
until our teacher revived us with her sound.

Otherwise, it could be a tumbling of sorts,
a trip-on-the-first-step-smash-every-limb-kind,
skin blotches that gasp in agony with a touch,
your mistake stains in violet tones, or,
if executed with a more Wonka flourish,
just lust in the blood. Perhaps you'd bleed pink.

Like I know the feeling anyway.
If the words in my throat are
painted with truth, I'll say it, mean it
and breathe or let embarrassment
crush me in its reptilian silver claws.
You might even say it back, platonic or not,

even if I don't know you much,
even if my bedtime is your breakfast
and you handle cutlery better
and don't mind my eczema if you ever
see it on a fuzzy screen or body to body.
Even if my lips have never known what to do.

Her paper-thin wings, inked in grainy
yellow and true azure blue;
The butterfly's ****** movements twitched
Like a stop motion puppet's.
Her bearded creator bows in sarcastic devoir
Wheeling out the spiralling portal
And contorting it to a star that rapidly unfolded--

At last, the pale sequinned godess is upon us,
Trembling in goosebumps like raindrops atop
   the rattling leaf. Sacred imprisoned witch;
    harbour of her sister's thorny cobweb, and fangs
That wish nothing more than to knit upon our sordid

            flesh.

Winter nuzzles His chilly
Ivory cheek
next to mine

Puffs of frozen air
hang like heart shaped clouds
around us

Crystal eyes gaze directly, clearly
unflinching
into my night sky orbs

His kiss is cold
but laser true

Together we skate
though colorful Christmas lights,
sequinned landscapes

Across constellations, borealis
and the Great Beyond
Loving it all with
vast polar bear hugs

overt discriminations
polaroid dickensian remonstrations
elevated poo pooing of forecasted demonstrations
coalescing in a whitley bay bus stop
be sick on my shoes
angel of the overcast sky

I will fornicate with bureaucrats and syncophants
call me beligerent in an acid rain downpour
belicose victim of the jackbooted thuggery
tattooed forearms,
a conduit for satanic grunting
I hear volcanos erupting, sick sick

Debonair and not caring
uppercutting the earth until it enters a feotal position
razorblade wit and ******* upon a darras hall balcony
I would like to inhibit a physical space paramount and facile
I smell tomato ketchup and whipped flesh
unequal pleasures and sequinned ******
boot me into a grave state of mind

It felt nice, to swap the boxers with this sequinned black dress, with upper body lace, revealing the perfect amount of skin.
It felt nice, to swap the daily beer bottles with glasses of vine of older times.
It felt nice, to swap the bathroom slippers with black pumps which I last wore three tears ago, at my sisters’ wedding.
It felt nice, to look at all these new faces who pretend to care, but don’t.
It felt nice, to wear this mask separating myself from the woman I really am, a widower.
This white mask, attached to its’ sides are tiny feathers of black with a pearl at the end and it is covered with sequins all around, like it was meant for an archangel to wear.
Black lace dress, showing my cleavage,under which I wore a black garter and black bra, with black plain pumps, and this white mask.
Standing afar, at the other end of the ball room, this handsome stranger catches my eye.
He notices me and walks up to me, taking my gloved hand he asks me “Care to dance ?” and my feet give the answer my lips couldn’t formulate.
He keeps one hand on my *** and one on my tiny back, I lean into him and on the tunes of Bach, we sway.
Just as the clock hits twelve, my Cinderella time gets over, time to be the widow and remove the mask I so willingly wore, just for one escape.
Escape from being a widower to being a single lady at Masquerade ball.

Oh Mermaid and Merman
I have seen you in my dreams
Your tails are bright and beautiful
Dazzling like two shiny sunbeams

Do you swim and intertwine in the mystique fathoms below
casting little bubbles to the surface as you blow

Will you be married in the moonlight underneath the pretty twinkly stars
Will your carriages have six white seahorses pulling
You both in Rolls-Royce seacars

Oh Mr and Mrs Mermaids
I know this is all true
I watched you take Miss Mermaid’s hand
I heard you saying  “I do”

There was lots of other Mermaids
Of every shape and size
I peeped inside your banquet
I could hardly believe my eyes

You were all sitting at a big oak table
With Mermaids on chairs at either side
But you Mr Merman were sitting opposite your Mermaid bride

She looked very stunning
With her diamond studded veil
Her sequinned dress was so long
It covered all her tail

I didn’t want to leave you all
You partied allnight long
But my Mammy was telling me
To get up or I’d get wrong

You see I had to go to school
That’s what us humans do
So I woke up from my dream
Even though I didn’t want to

Oh how I wish I was a Mermaid
Swimming in the deep blue brine
Then I could play with your Mermaid children
They would be best friends of mine

Oh Mermaid and Merman
I have seen you in my dreams
Your tails are bright and beautiful
Dazzling like two shiny sunbeams

Do you swim and intertwine in the mystique fathoms below
casting little bubbles to the surface as you blow

Will you be married in the moonlight underneath the pretty twinkly stars
Will your carriages have six white seahorses pulling
You both in Rolls-Royce seacars

Oh Mr and Mrs Mermaids
I know this is all true
I watched you take Miss Mermaid’s hand
I heard you saying  “I do”

There was lots of other Mermaids
Of every shape and size
I peeped inside your banquet
I could hardly believe my eyes

You were all sitting at a big oak table
With Mermaids on chairs at either side
But you Mr Merman were sitting opposite your Mermaid bride

She looked very stunning
With her diamond studded veil
Her sequinned dress was so long
It covered all her tail

I didn’t want to leave you all
You partied allnight long
But my Mammy was telling me
To get up or I’d get wrong

You see I had to go to school
That’s what us humans do
So I woke up from my dream
Even though I didn’t want to

Oh how I wish I was a Mermaid
Swimming in the deep blue brine
Then I could play with your Mermaid children
They would be best friends of mine

When Bluebeard told his bride there was
a closet she must never see
She painted deep inside her head
A portrait of how it might be;

She saw a wonder chamber there
with Baroque pearls and curios,
with sequinned birds and spiky shells,
and monstrous fish and cameos.

And when her husband had to leave
to make a voyage 'cross the sea
he said she might use every room
and gave to her the master-key


The chambers here were many, all
with costly silk upholstery
With works of art and silver plate,
and porcelain, jewels and ivory

He showed her then another key
but told her, glaring, to beware-
To never use it, for it opened
up the closet 'neath the stair

His bride just laughed and said that he
could trust her even with his life
That he might rest assured that she
would never be a spying wife


2

So now alone, she asked her friends
to come and keep her company
To gossip in the courtyard where
they all could sit and take their tea

A courtyard sweet as heaven's door
where roses smelt of cherubs' sighs
And peacocks trailed their rustling tails
of tasselled silk with turquoise eyes

The fountains chimed like chandeliers
each tree sang like an aviary
Ripe fruit hung thick from every bough
and all was just as it should be

But Bluebeard's bride could not discard
the baleful warning of her groom
Nor could she cast out from her head
the phantom of that hidden room

And though she knew that it was wrong,
she sprang up quickly from her chair
Then took the silver closet key
and hurtled down the spiral stair
3
She held the key with quivering hand
and turned it slowly in the lock
But as she did, she met a sight
that sent her reeling from the shock

She'd entered now that nightmare land
where Kraken loom up from the deep
And you no longer understand
if you're awake or fast asleep

That half-remembered childhood world
where goblins lurk beneath the bed
Where witches fly around at night
and everything is on its head

For there, all caked in ruby blood,
a woman lay upon the floor
And peering round the shuttered room
she saw at least a dozen more

Their necks gleamed dark with clotted gore
like pomegranates split apart
While others had been hanged on ropes
or stabbed with daggers through the heart

At which the girl let out a shriek
that could have woken up the dead
And dropped her key upon the ground
amidst the blood of coral-red

Then picking up the key again
she stumbled 'cross the crimson floor
And, choking from the fetid stench,
she raced to slam the closet door
4
Her ordeal though, had just begun
for Bluebeard came back suddenly
And when he did, he told his wife
to show to him the closet key



But then he saw her bloodied hem,
that glare of terror in her eye
And knew she'd peeked inside the room
where he had told her not to pry



"The key," he said, "is streaked with blood
You've poked about inside that door.
Well, Madam, you shall join my wives
and rot with them forever more."



He drew his sword out from its sheath
and held the blade above her head
"Please give me just a little time,
so I may pray to God," she said



"You went against my word," he growled
"You shall not have one minute more"
But, as he gripped his sword to strike,
he froze, then tumbled to the floor-



His wife could scarce believe her eyes
and wept with joy at what she saw
But still she took the sword and plunged
it through his heart, just to be sure.