"victoria" poems
she put my heart in a jar.
wait here until i return, she said.
i waited two forevers for her to open it, my heart was suffocating.
i was drowning in her memories, her eyes danced like fireflies in the moonlight. timeless passion. she is my flower child.
flawless. my heart is in a cage, solitude sedates me. i recall memories we never had or maybe it was visions of a future we will have?
i sit down with a notepad and admire your movement. i pen down my studies, and try to understand your complexity. your face glows, your waist flows. like the beautiful Victoria Falls, African queen.
i digress, you still have my heart in a jar. open a few holes, my heart is suffocating.
hair like Rapunzel, fine spun gold, only love knows our connection. time is but a teardrop in our moments.
on my notepad, is stories of what i think you could be, yet my imagination is far from your real being.
your shadow is unique. i can see it dancing under the stars, it tells its own stories. faded, i am.
im loving, your heart. keep moving, beauty. i love you. stop arguing with your mind, you’re beautiful. every man knows.
o, to be young and feel love’s keen sting.
beauty.
je t’aime. belle âme, mon coeur appartient à vous.
Oct 29, 2013
Oct 29, 2013 at 12:24 PM UTC
Ebola! Ebola! Ebola!
you are only hunting in the exhausted fields,
you predecessors have done evil marvel in this land
Africa's sons and daughter were heavily taken away
in slave raid, colonial rampage two world wars, cancer
and *** aids, Ebola you must be ashamed to come here,
are you as foolish as lioness that must follow the path
initially taken by her husband the lion?
Ebola Africa is dead tired and lain forlorn
by strange diseases not known by it
but only named in the land of their cradle
where *** was born in the Irish Laboratory
on trial and error to decimate Africa's populations
in the racially biased arsenal you have also come
you fangled teeth a bare menace to each of us
you make us bleed from out body holes,
blood oozing out like Nile water from lake Victoria
Ebola! Ebola! sympathy is not a vice, but heavenly
virtue, only protege of the Godly please be sympathetic
to Africa the orphan of the classic times with no succour
her wounds of Cancer are fresh and fresh as those obnoxites
from the nasty Aids aka *** kindly empathize with Africa
you have eaten Mali and Nigeria after Congo Kinshasa
you are now in Kenya the neighbor of Sudan
the last born of Africa already rendered forlorn
by the AK 47 and AK 74, shot in the tribal tremors
O! Ebola Ebola! my prayer to you is as brief
as that; forgive me for my weird mourning
of my brothers and sister in death mongering
mandibles so ugly and Abysmal like
Gehenna of Jesus Christ, Amen!
Oct 22, 2014
Oct 22, 2014 at 7:47 PM UTC
The Victoria plum-tree that we planted this year
Is now full of blossom that looks lovely from here
The creamy white flowers and the brightest green leaves
Makes beautiful colour as Springtime relieves.
The garden of Winter, this year so wet
Does blossom herald a ‘best Summer yet.’
It’s quite true of course that village life so snug
Can have a tendency to make one feel smug
But for years our’s has struggled, it now has no shops
And a pub that’s near closure though it still sells the ‘hops.’
We don’t take it lightly the community here
For we know we could lose it which would cost us all dear.
It’s not really the money though the costs would be great
But there’d be no Village Hall and no Summer Fete
No chats with our friends over stiles by the field
Nor any more eggs from the local chicks yield.
We don’t take it lightly the community here
And we will fight to keep it which will cost us all dear.
©JRW2014
Apr 9, 2014
Apr 9, 2014 at 2:37 PM UTC
I don’t care,
That you don’t care,
About caring about
What I care for.
And you know what?
I don’t care that
You won’t care for
the only thing that I really
care for.
What if I care about
cake? Would you not
care about cake?
Would you not care
ABOUT CAKE?
You care about cake, of course you do.
I can see it in your eyes and by
that tell tale dribble at your mouth.
Cake is something that will
make your legs quake with
butter cream goodness.
A good cake baked,
makes you proud to be
a cake baking citizen in
a country that will let you
bake cake.
So what if I care about
democracy. Would you not
care about democracy?
Would you let people live
in fear of the **** of a gun,
Would you care that there
are those who are on the run
from tyranny and violence
who know pain and loss,
that you could only
wake up from,
in a cold sweat?
As you turn and toss
in your memory foam bed.
There is more happening on this Earth
Then cake.
There are greater causes
than choosing between
Thortons Double Chocolate Celebration
and that traditional Victoria Sponge your
Mother-in-law won in a raffle last week.
The struggle humanity faces, is to live
in harmony with each other.
It cannot be resolved with cake.
You cannot bring democracy
to a country with cake.
Or can we?
What if we swapped,
Non radar detectable aircraft
For dairy delectable foodcraft,
What if we swapped
12inch shells for
12 thousand babybels?
What if we stole
RPGs and gave back
MSG’s (they’re less harmful
in the long run, if thrown at you).
What if, for once, everyone cared.
And then we’d get somewhere.
Every voice in every home
Would not be a voice alone,
And for once, we’d all agree about the fact
we like cake and democracy for all.
Mar 16, 2010
Mar 16, 2010 at 8:19 AM UTC
For now the winter bites
Breath stolen by the cold fingers
Of the nights frost
Hanging in the still air
We shall return to our motherland
Victoria is the name
Pressed onto cracked lips
Let the fire of saviour burn tonight
As we prepare
For thine enemy shall taste
The cold arrows
Peirce the breast of harlots
As we march
Bear skin warms our back
And norse songs pound inside souls
Of brave warriors
Beneath the silver moon
March march march
Until this land is free again
And we return
To the love of the
Summer angel
Dec 1, 2019
Dec 1, 2019 at 2:49 PM UTC
Ebola
Ebola! Ebola! Ebola!
you are only hunting in the exhausted fields,
you predecessors have done evil marvel in this land
Africa's sons and daughter were heavily taken away
in slave raid, colonial rampage two world wars ,cancer
and *** aids, Ebola you must be ashamed to come here,
are you as foolish as lioness that must follow the path
initially taken by her husband the lion?
Ebola Africa is dead tired and lain forlorn
by strange diseases not known by it
but only named in the land of their cradle
where *** was born in the Irish Laboratory
on trial and error to decimate Africa's populations
in the racially biased arsenal you have also come
you fangled teeth a bare menace to each of us
you make us bleed from out body holes,
blood oozing out like Nile water from lake Victoria
Ebola ! Ebola ! sympathy is not a vice , but heavenly
virtue, only protege of the Godly please be sympathetic
to Africa the orphan of the classic times with no succour
her wounds of Cancer are fresh and fresh as those obnoxites
from the nasty Aids aka *** kindly empathize with Africa
you have eaten Mali and Nigeria after Congo Kinshasa
you are now in Kenya the neighbor of Sudan
the last born of Africa already rendered forlorn
by the AK 47 and AK 74 , shot in the tribal tremors
O! Ebola Ebola ! my prayer to you is as brief
as that; forgive me for my weird mourning
of my brothers and sister in death mongering
mandibles so ugly and Abysmal like
Gehenna of Jesus Christ, Amen !
Aug 13, 2014
Aug 13, 2014 at 4:59 AM UTC
Shackled imprisoned in an oval office
Called Robben island Transformed
Unshackled twenty seven years later
Freed a nation from an apartheid regime
Inspired the world from the Grand parade
A Universal Icon Humanitarian *** laude
Now honoured in the halls of Valhalla
Glorifying God...Looks upon us
With Love from the heavenly realm
INKULULEKO AHLULA
Jul 10, 2018
Jul 10, 2018 at 5:13 PM UTC
1
What my brother-in-law said to me:
*Hey, bro…glad to talk to you…
I’m flying in all the way from Canada
in 30 days’ time…yeah, whole family
Wife and the 3 kids
Hey, you ought to get leave for a week –
we’ll stay in your place,
and you can drive us about Victoria…
it’s really my sis and you we want to see…
Yeah, get back to me after you speak
to the people at your workplace*
2
What I told my brother-in-law:
*I asked my boss,
and he said leave’s not possible…
He needs me to be at work
says he can’t manage without me*
What my brother-in-law said back to me:
*Oh, we’ll try my wife’s side then
You know, the ones who live in Mauritius
We’d really like to see them…*
3
What actually happened
Well, to be honest,
I asked my boss for the week off
and he said:
*You’ve let so much work hang for so long
you’d need a whole year to finish
Let me make it plain, you shirker:
This year, you get NO days off*
And I shook his hands enthusiastically,
and I said to him:
Thanks, boss – I knew I could always count on you
...and now I've got my bro-in-law languishing in Canada - and my boss, my colleagues tell me, feeling perplexed in his office...
Oct 1, 2012
Oct 1, 2012 at 3:14 AM UTC
*I will love you till the birds give up flying
Till eyes give up the habit of crying
I will love you till the cats make a truce with mice
Till probabilistic algorithm needs not a dice
I will love you till the Nile pours water into Victoria
I will love you more than war is cherished by any warrior
I will love you till Butterflies become caterpillars
And even if It's samson pushing the pillars
The pillars of my passion will never crumble
I will never change course even if I stumble
I will love you till the Doves stop to sing
Till entangled bees cease to sting
I will love you till the Sun grows cold
And the moon burns hot and grows old
I will love you till it snows in Hell
I will love you till Ants stop living in hills
Because I need you just as Snail needs her Shell
I will love you even when human heart no longer feels
I will love you till all African states unite
I will love you till old age steals my sight
I will love you till roads cease to have potholes
I will love you even after my destiny calls
I will love you till poems no longer rhyme
I will love you till the end of time*
Jul 31, 2015
Jul 31, 2015 at 6:47 PM UTC
The goddess
Of golden-faced victory
Her head brilliantly decorated with green laurels
Victoria, bestowing victory for what is named after her
Down to the red-plumed Romans with their gleaming swords
Nike, champion of the Greek gods.
Riding the chariot of victory into battle
The laurels catches the light of a mirror
It dances away, after its victorious champion
She may be a bit crazy or at least hungry
For the taste of that sweet victory
Let her be Roman; let her be Greek;
She is never weak
What one might say, she does not know
For her victory is clogging up her ears
Goddess of victory, we all want a taste of her power.
Mar 7, 2015
Mar 7, 2015 at 9:13 AM UTC
~weary weighted~
flummoxed are the sea watchers;
the long rhythms of sea change reveal only minor modesties,
difficult discerned are the tidal subtleties
though repetitive thrashing extracts it toll,
only the weary-weighted see the true meaning of the beating,
knowing full well,
it beats for them
recalling their early day’d fascination with its endless chaining,
now knowing all are similar
detained-chained,
and the ******* churning but a cover up masque,
they need not longer conceal,
an unrevealed confess:
water is heavy-weighted, you cannot forever float,
constancy is of a thing to be wary,
its sadder longevity,
a chipping away erosion of wearing,
*‘tis is the knelling noise of sad respite,
an unlight lighthouse*
~for Victoria, a year later~
Jul 29, 2018
Jul 29, 2018 at 3:21 PM UTC
Norwegian:
”Og kjærligheten ble verdens opphav og verdens hersker; men alle dens veier er fulle av blomster og blod, blomster og blod.”
TRANSLATED BY ME:
English:
"And love turned out to be the origin of the world and its master; but all of its roads are filled with flowers and blood, flowers and blood."
Jun 1, 2014
Jun 1, 2014 at 6:59 PM UTC
Is A Birthday A Birthday
Without
Celebration
A child of God on his creation
Is A Birthday A Birthday
Without
A cake
The sweet smell plus the time it took to make
Is A Birthday A Birthday
Without
Blowing out candles hot dripping wax
65 candles fire to the max
Is A Birthday A Birthday
Without
Singing the song
A sadness lingered all day long
Is A Birthday A Birthday
Without
A friend to share it with
Or are all these reasons just a myth
Pouring Rain fierce winds rocked my car
I walked the mall
Beauty Salon new look cut style my hair
No one to notice or to care
Shopping
Victoria Secrets, things I did not need
But made me smile
The happness only lasted a short while
See’s candy, picked out my favorite kind
Still sad loneliness on my mind
Bed bath and beyond; rosewater candles
Surely the scent would cheer my mood
Perhaps
Chinese’s food
Wonton soup and *** stickers To take home
Painful knee ended my time to roam
Reading comments ,well wishers who
Remember my Birthday
I’m done celebrating now
Ready for the end of this Day
Text messages Facebook too
I wish I understood I wish I knew
Why I feel this way
Tomorrow
Will be
A bright
New Day
Inspired Song
1) It’s my party by Lesley Gore
(And I’ll cry if I want to)
2) Happy birthday the new kids by on the block
3) Happy birthday by John Lennon
4) happy birthday by “Weird Al” Yankovic
5) happy birthday by Loretta Lynn
6) birthday by Katy Perry
7) happy birthday by Stevie Wonder
8) birthday by The Beatles
Mar 24, 2018
Mar 24, 2018 at 5:44 AM UTC
poem in two parts (a plane and bird)
You are a sound in still silence; a point against negative space toward which my eye is drawn. The sun set, peeking beneath a blanket of storm clouds, painting the underside, as a plane, an infinitesimal photon, a plane flew as an impossible pinprick of optimistic light, moving slowly against the immense parallax backdrop of bright and hazy pink-orange glowing thunder clouds. You are the first breath I took. You are the product of all infinities, divided by itself, the sum of all integers. When the earth falls into the sun, long after humans left, long after you left, and any recognizable trace of you is swallowed, your memory will persist. You will have still lived; You will have been the last breath I took.
A fulcrum of loss and a wedge between two equally lost people, but between them, between them still a bird, flying farther than any eye can see, but should the lights of the lighthouses lose you against their foggy panes, or should the salty wind dash you against something equally heavy, call out, and cast your voice into the sky, upon the sea, and against the stars, and maybe its echoes will live a little longer than you.
Dec 24, 2015
Dec 24, 2015 at 5:27 PM UTC
Progress is wasted here
the high street draped in uniform glass fronts
why shouldn't we play our bugle
to rebuke this shard ?
yet in a corner there's still a market street
refusing the final nail,
there's a shoe, bakery, cycle and jewellery shop,
in our hearts we will
wear pride to headline the clarion call
and shed anger at being accused of,
carrying congress with the past
at our coffee stall.
May 28, 2012
May 28, 2012 at 6:00 PM UTC
We are polar opposites
You are West, I am East
Our views always contradict
You have a sweet tooth, I don't like sweets
You are white, I am black
Not literally, but just in life view
Sometimes you're ***** white and I'm clear black
It varies from half empty to half full
You are an extravert
While I am an introvert
You like being surrounded by people
I'm fine being secluded in the darkest corner
You're frank and always true
I lie so no one will have a clue
But you always know what I hide
While I am oblivious if you're really fine
You are a cat-lover, I am a dog-lover
It rain cats and dogs when we're together
You sing the sweetest meow at my whimper
I happily wag my tail at your purr
We both like music though
But we listen to different genres
We never even shared on one earphone
So sometimes we just endure the silence
You are a sadist, I am a *********
You leave bite marks on my skin
Whenever you're overwhelmed
But I'm really fine with it
You like Vampire Diaries and Victoria's Secret
While I like TVXQ and anime
We'll never agree on a TV show
Now who's gonna hold the remote control?
You are a clean freak
I am not that very clean
You're probably next to Godliness
While I'm second to the last in that list
You are very hardworking, I am lazy
While you are being busy
I'm being a potato on the couch
"Sweep the floor.", you said as the broom flew on my face, "Ouch!"
I like food trips
But you are on a diet
You like to eat healthy
I like to eat anything but veggies
True, we don't have anything in common
Except for the dislike of the black part of the fish's meat
But we are familiar of our demons
And the how-tos for its defeat
Yes, we must be polar opposites
And yes, we're like magnets
Positive plus negative
To each other, we are attracted
I am salt, you are pepper
And we complement each other
We are each others' puzzle pieces
Completing each others' emptiness
We are yin and yang
We cannot live without either one
And most importantly, you and I
We rhyme
Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 11:27 PM UTC
Hi my name is Briano alliano and welcome the Jupiter early Christmas party
And the first song is this
Santa Claus came through the computers
Through the computers
Through the computers
Santa Claus came through the computers
Every Christmas Eve night
He will drop presents down cyber space
Cyber space oh cyber space
Making Johnny and frank and tommy and Ryan and many more kids to count
Santa Claus came through the computers
Through the computers
Through the computers
Santa Claus came through the computers
Briany is a cool boy
Who is trying to be good
But nowadays it is harder to go down chimneys because nobody has one no more
But how about sending Santa’s sleigh
Down through cyber space
And and and send
Santa Claus through the computer
Through the computer
Through the computer
Santa Claus came through your computer
Each and every year
Cause daddy has a brand new computer
Just for you this year
Yes daddy gave me a brand new computer
For everybody to see this year
And now here is my funny jingle bells 2020
Dashing through the year
Was the covid 19
Yes the coronavirus has been making
Everybody sick
Victoria copped it bad
And footy started and finished late
I was unhappy that Richmond and storm won but at least Christmas will be cool
Jingle bells jingle bells
Party on at home
Covid 19 is keeping all the people from having fun yeah
Jingle bells jingle bells
Please find a vaccine
So we can go out and party again
Without worrying about touching
You see when you take the kids
To see good ole Santa Claus
You have to book online
And social distancing
So what you have to do
Is stand back and say to Santa
I want a book and a toy to play with
And then get our photo taken
Jingle bells jingle bells
Santa still will come
Covid 19 is really bad
But it doesn’t spoil the hype
Jingle bells party on
At home to be safe
Singing Christmas carols on YouTube mate
Party party party yeah
That was covid jingle bells and now here is
We wish you a merry Christmas
We wish you a merry Christmas
We wish you a merry Christmas
We wish you a merry Christmas
In these covid 19 times
The party will still be on
No matter what is on
We wish you a merry Christmas
In the covid 19 year
Party on dudes
Thanks and I will see ya next time
Nov 14, 2020
Nov 14, 2020 at 6:43 AM UTC
oh right...
back in h'america it's called
patriotism -
but 'ere, over, Here -
it's called nationalism...
back on the old continent
where and when all politics
is far-right mantra
and then you have
your Victoria and Abdul -
love the curry...
but like the **** said...
i'd prefer the aura and sauna
of the...
don't get me wrong:
i love the food...
but watching the Indian caste
system?
of Indians employing slaves
to build their upper-middle-class homes?
more tanned?
oh, you mean the Sri Lankan
or the Bangladeshi poor ********
sorry... i thought all slave
owners were white...
no?
oh...
alright...
**** you then!
because?
next time you ask...
i'll do what the Nazis did to the ********
i'll twist the star of David sideways...
exposing the prayer mat
and an opened book...
and, as far as i am concerned,
Islam is equivalent to the bubonic plague...
now...
compare the geographic literature
and spot the quarantine areas on a map
that constitutes Europe.
i'd rather die...
than fiddle with a phallus for
a taste of the Arabian quasi
harem orchestra of... absolute...
********
Arabian women?
fat hands...
their hands are too fat...
they have to inter-breed to
get rid of their
farmers' market of
fudge fingers and knuckles...
Arabian women expose
what is the most **** aspect
of a woman's body...
their hands...
Arab women have pork chops
for fingers...
and i'm not even sorry
making this observation...
fatty extensions
that you wish could at least
succumb to the esteem
of a pork head terrine.
Arab women can wear their niqab,
or whatever the hell they wear...
one problem...
FAT..... HANDS...
FAT.... FINGERS...
hell, hide them...
these women are worth half the erection's
worth in the *********** market of
feminine hands...
Arab women are no possessed with
geisha hands... porcelain architecture...
they're not tender... slight, polite...
the hands of Arab women are
the hands of European women...
who have a legitimate sway on arable
land, that is fertile with either
potatoes or cabbage;
well...
fat fingers eager to harvest ginger
(roots) -
what can i say...
no matter the diamond,
or the European *****
the hand is still looking
readily available to milk a ******* camel.
Sep 2, 2018
Sep 2, 2018 at 8:32 PM UTC
Plush and Prim is your White, Feathery Plume
Soft the Inertia of your Thighs update
I pray this time, your Victory resume,
Revive your Year's Fortress not far too late
In your eyes you reject the Gambler's View
For no such Attitude ever won Hearts
The Paddles you took - timed and faster blue
Were enough for us to make Key Remarks
This Beauty, defined as Hair-Painted Wind,
Tad effort needed to brush your Canvas red
Pour out! Pour out! Pour, Passion's Purest Sprint
And let your Spirit drape these Words instead:
I'll just be right here, cheering for your Cause
Whether win or lose my Soul will not pause.
Mar 9, 2013
Mar 9, 2013 at 5:49 AM UTC
Enter the dragon with death and disruption
Pride and tradition cataclysmically thrown,
Magnificent structures reduced to rubble
Distraught people bereft of their homes.
Chasms of heartache with bodies of babies
Strewn with the bricks in vast disarray,
Dust in the air and the howl of the sirens
Shouting police on a horror filled day.
Christchurch is bleeding, her confidence shattered
Our keynote cathedral is lying in shards,
Vacant eyed people are clinging to strangers
Jagged black holes in suburban back yards.
Christchurch is bleeding, our torn, gracious City
The nation arises in hurt and alarm,
To face the challenge with strength and resources,
To nurture our sister with healing and balm.
Sympathy shown by the myriad faces
Racing to help from all parts of the globe,
Expertise offered with money and labour
Students with shovels and priests of the robe.
Sadness and torment for kin of the missing
Frustrated rescuers work till relieved,
Moments of triumph with lost resurrected,
Agony felt when the dead are retrieved.
Led by the strength of the Mayor of the City
Courageous citizens help where they can,
Moments of bravery, moments of agony
Inspirational feats of elan.
Poignancy shown by the sad Maori Warden
Guiding the aged through the strewn broken glass,
Aiding the ambulance crews in their labour
Proud to be Kiwi as folk show their class.
Christchurch WILL arise from the death and destruction
Once again people will overcome grief,
Pride and resilience will triumph with the passing
And time will repair with deserved relief.
Marshalg
Victoria Park Tunnel
AUCKLAND
25 February 2011
Feb 25, 2011
Feb 25, 2011 at 8:26 AM UTC
“Beautifully Oppressive”
she called my work
“beautifully oppressive”
did she mean like the stifling pall
of equatorial heat?
what lines had I writ
to elicit such truthful and prodigious
adverbs and adjectives?
I can not recall being more flattered
or believing more that it mattered
what one said of my
delirious desultory delusions,
my petty pecking indulgences…
I believe I was recalling a dream
that spoke of elusive, fickle salvation,
the perennial curse of the chosen ******
and their haunting hunger for implacable peace
when I evoked that response from her
“beautifully oppressive” to feel such a fate?
the promise of heaven for those trudging through hell?
what other beautiful oppressive story could I tell?
Jun 3, 2013
Jun 3, 2013 at 5:56 PM UTC
My poor, stupid poodle,
peed on the pedestal
of Cleopatra's needle
on Victoria embankment,
near the Golden Jubilee bridge.
( Oh! I am miserable!
I couldn't stop the debacle)
The poodle's puny misdeed
embarrassed not just me,
but the whole city of Westminster,
as fire alarm rang out loud,
when an overzealous constable
gave a distress signal.
It brought the fire chief himself,
who came rushing to meet
the emergency situation,
thinking the poodle was trying
to put out a fire erupted
on the ancient monument,
once shipped to England,
overcoming great adversities,
from Africa, long back.
Dec 17, 2012
Dec 17, 2012 at 11:31 PM UTC
High on the O2:
Red Rossopomodoro, Wagamama,
and on the bus shelter, Marc Jacobs,
and again higher,
Habitat,
then Metroline moves past.
It's the 113
to Oxford Circus,
and the 13 to Victoria:
Thrilla Lives On,
shouts the slogan,
while National Express has
All Set For Take-Off.
They're gone...
It calms
empties,
nothing much
just the red lidless eyes
of cars
two, three, four dozen pairs
hover
over the asphalt road.
Where...
where am I?
Ahhh, yeah,
in the Oriental Star,
the road seen from a table and stool,
waiting
for food.
Where have I hailed from?
My lover's womb.
No, no
NOT THAT!
The North Star, yes:
A pub on the Finchley Road,
Where Tottenham beat Liverpool 4-1
A pyrrhic victory!
Over a couple of beers.
Warm years, and tears.
A sense of place,
a home, a nest,
Receding in the traffic
Of a busy road,
Waiting on noodles.
Nov 10, 2017
Nov 10, 2017 at 6:15 PM UTC
The splendour of glory,
Stretched beauty
Across the universe
That none could reverse.
Naturally occuring lights that leave any human mind in awe,
They're called auroras;that's not all..
Big is beautiful!when you take a look at these huge sights of divinity,
So gigantic they look like they've existed for infinity,
Located in Asia is the mount Everest,
King of the forest.
And in America;the Grand Canyon,
So grand I'd spell it in lights of neon.
The great barrier reef found in the Coral sea of Australias north eastern coast is so beautiful,
Naturally created by living organisms,its so beyond cool
More like the view of the Rio De Janeiro Harbour,
Another great sight to remember.
Talk of the beautiful,ever flowing and rainbowed Victoria falls,
How to fully describe it,only God knows,
Its location has brought its proud owners Zambia and Zimbabwe to unification,
Indeed its a great destination.
Sometimes flamey and always beautiful is the Paricutin a cinder cone volcano,
Located in Mexico.
As beautiful as they all are,
You're a better star
In the eyes of our creator.
Nov 17, 2015
Nov 17, 2015 at 1:05 PM UTC
The Annual POCU Fashion Show held by the campus organization “People of Color United,” was held in the Student Activities Center on Saturday, April 18. The fashion show is the final activity of the year held by POCU. Junior Martell Prayear and senior Miranda Jackson were the show’s hosts and announcers.
The fashion show is a competition where various designers, or teams of designers, are required to create outfits that adhere to a general theme, but also incorporate the designer’s unique, personal concepts. This year, the general theme for the fashion show was: Thrift Shop. Each designer, or group of designers, was required to utilize clothes purchased from the local Goodwill and maintain a $50 budget. Preparations for the event, Jackson said, were very short. “I was really surprised how well it turned out, because we started practicing for the show at four o’clock that day,” Jackson said. “They typically start practicing way a head of time.” Despite the delayed preparation, the fashion show was an overall success. The first designer to present at the fashion show was Victoria Webster.
Webster’s fashion line was inspired by professional work attire. “I think it can be hard transitioning college wear into professional wear, on a budget,” Webster said of her outfits. Webster was able to find three models to wear the clothes, which she said was a combination of the model’s personal items, as well as those purchased through Goodwill. The second fashion line presented at the fashion show was designed by Iyana Lynch. For her personal theme, Lynch designed outfits that were inspired by the different seasons. The third designer to present that evening was Alyssa Nieset. Inspired by 90’s menswear, Nieset designed a line of androgynous outfits. The final clothing line presented was a team effort from: Jeanita Blue and Angel Powell.
Their theme was considered “90’s Reloaded,” and featured various throwbacks to 1990’s pop culture such as TLC and The Spice Girls. Blue said that most of the outfits in their fashion line were inspired by “eco-friendly fashion,” and were intended to decrease hesitation toward shopping at thrift stores. While the judges finalized the scores for each designer or team, the Urban Dance Association entertained the crowd with a quick performance. The judge’s scores resulted in a tie between Jeanita Blue & Angel Powell, and Iyana Lynch. Despite the general tie, Blue and Powell were awarded first place, while Lynch was granted second place. There was an off-campus reception held in Cleveland after the event. Read more here:www.marieaustralia.com/purple-formal-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/green-formal-dresses
May 4, 2015
May 4, 2015 at 10:36 PM UTC