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Olivia Kent Jul 2013
!
A world of wonder blessed my eyes,
For at first vision,
A shock of lightening,
Electrified my heart,
With all the blessings he'd disguised,
Hidden far in his dark heart,

Stolen kisses escaped,
Ventured from the dark,
While on a glory summer's day as we went strolling through the park,
A fantasy, a dream come true,
When I met one as cool as you!



By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
?
Olivia Kent Mar 2014
?
She, she is a ******* of the spoken word.
Words of reassurance are given with a smile.
She does prostitution, when she sells her words for wages.
She's really a misanthropist, she likes no human beings.
At work, she sparkles and grins, all  day,a staged act.
Until her pen can play again.
She says,"there, there, it will be alright, but there are no guarantees".
Compassion pays her wages, its such a sad affair.
She rather likes her job, but wants to stay at home.
She's paid for care eternally, but her love is given free.
Livvi
Olivia Kent Jan 2015
If you pay nurses peanuts, at least they can eat.
(c) Livvi
Olivia Kent Sep 2015
Looking at young men walking by.
Realising I'm old, now I just cry!
Livvi
Olivia Kent Jan 2015
Having an ambivalent moment.
Do I care, of course not.
I never do, do you?
(C) Livvi
Olivia Kent Mar 2015
Hold me like you want me.
Look deep into my psyche, to see what you can see.
(C) LIVVI
Olivia Kent Jul 2013
O my goodness had a thought,
Just a few days til I leave decade four,
Scary thought,
I'm feeling that five is so much more,
Kissed my forties wildly,
Fifty may be scary!

Guess for now,
I must savour the flavour of having number four in front,
Instead of five,
For I'm alive, and joy is mine,
I sip life's wine,
For five and twenty days,

Until the dreaded fifty hits me on the head,
With lots more love and kisses,
Before I'm rendered dead!

By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
51
Olivia Kent Dec 2014
51
I lived.
I lived in what seemed to be a perpetual hurricane.
Dervish like child, but mild of heart.
I practised living.
I practised loving and leaving.
I am glad that I did.
I bought the tee-shirt, filled up, wore it well.
Left nothing but a nasty taste and pungent smell.
Unsettled is the child wearing the wrinkled face of the ageing one.
The greying hair and playing air.

But, I am far less miserable.
As for now,on the table.
I present the lack of love, I so resent.
I have killed my self metaphorically.
I want some one, but I don't want me.
(C) Livvi
BTW, I am actually happy x
Olivia Kent Jun 2014
Arromanche,
and the sea ran red,
a scarlet tide mark on the beach,
left as the water went out,

I went to Dunquerke,
aged eleven,
much of a nothingness,
a mud flat beach,
just a plaque,
standing lonely,
A memoir,
of the lost and lonely,
and today,
and that,
that is my childhood naive memory.

Seventy years down the line,
I am grateful freedom is mine,
honourable gentlemen,
you are remembered,

I saw medal strung heroes,
today, seventy years since,
and at the going down of the sun,
and the rising of the morning,

I am free,
We are free,
thanks to the now elderly brave souls,
Let the gone rest in peace,
and the living,
may they have clear minds and peaceful hearts,
for the remaining years they live and breathe,
remembering you in our hearts,
as you remember your lost comrades,
we remember them too,
as free today,
We hold you high in tear filled esteem,
Thank you!
(c) Livvi
7/7
Olivia Kent Jul 2014
7/7
Got up to a bright new morn,
the sun full glowing in the sky,
glowed  so bright it woke me with a kiss at 5 a.m.
strolled into my study room,
my bright green crammed up box,
smiled to see the wisps of white ether, floating,
they're  tickling heaven.

Picked up my cell,
released the  imprisoned wail,
tuned off the alarm as just described poetically,
Noticed the date,
not so great,
7/7 and then like the morning it dawned on me,
seven years ago today,
London was set in disarray,
as bombers spanked the tube and buses,
chaos rallied round the streets.
the darkest day for all concerned.

Isn't it just so strange,
how,
checking the date,
can change my impression of an otherwise beautiful day?
(C) Livvi
Olivia Kent Mar 2014
Good God I'm getting so *******.
I'm trying to pen an e-book or two.
Every time I think it's right, a comment comes my way.
I'm tearing my hair out and going berserk.
Not much time, left till I go back to work.
It shouts at me,hmm, you've got too many chapters.
What on earth am I to do.
Creating tragic e-books,  is making me real blue.
Looked really simple,but it's got like a pimple,
Irritating, annoying really irksome.
Think I'll stick to paper copies that way, at least I shall succeed with my hobbies!
(c) Livvi
Olivia Kent Nov 2014
My cover envelopes me.
It's letting in the cold.
I have a spot of heartburn.
I'm guess I'm getting old.
My once true loving lover, he's been flirting with another.
My mind and jelly belly have been playing silly jealous games.
I think I'm a soppy teen.
Maybe I wish I was.
In a reckless lack of sleep the woman sits and weeps.
Not crying,the eyes are sore with tiredness.
I so hate lacking precious sleep.
My eyelids are brimming,as heavy cement.
Jesus Christ, I hate these nights when I'm not feeling great.
(C) Livvi
Olivia Kent Jun 2015
Stranded the shore the loneliest row boat.
Laid on the shore as if a grounded whale carcass collecting barnacles.
No rescuers ro save this noble beast.
The tide may come and take it home.
Depending on the time of tide.
The setting sun brings with it relief.
Cooler in a peaceful air.

A lonely gentlemen elderly in years.
Walking his chocolate labrador, Charlie, stumbles across an old wooden rotting oar.
Was going to sling it back into the sea.
Further along the shore he spies a lonesome row boat.
A perfect pair..
Row boat and oar reunited.
(c)Livvi MMXV
Watch this space...part two to follow.
Inspired by a picture sent to my Facebook page x
Olivia Kent May 2014
Creeping along the kerbside,
Kicking at flowerpots,
The miserable ***,
who lives under his hat.
The black floppy hat,
keeps the sunshine out of his eyes.
His bottle in hand, as he staggers along.
This young dandy dude,
wanders along, nose stuck up in the air,
Looked at the drunk guy,
Giggled to himself,
he wanted some fun,
Actually fancied a laugh,
The drunk guy,
He snorted, farted and roared, red faced,
Ignored the dandy for a moment or two,
Then he thought out loud, "why the fu** are you checking me out,"
Posh boy grinned,  
A face full of mischief ,thought the old drunk  looked hot for fun,  like he wanted to play.
In his poshest voice, " Hey  you ****, you come over here"
If I give you a dime, you want a gift"
The drunken fella staggered over to see,
A trip, said the posh ****.
Said he'd send on a pure holiday,
Gave him just an acid tab,
Now he's flying free!
Got to ride that trip, 'til the end of time!
(c)Livvi
Being an idiot on a boring Sunday x
Olivia Kent May 2014
She put her breast into his mouth, she gave it him for free.
She wanted to feel him close to her,
He suckled her, he needed her had took her for his tea.
The feeling made her purr,
He cuddled close.
He felt secure, his mother's milk was very fresh,
He snuggled with his nose,
His body sate, her breast, him did refresh,
The child so needs his mother,
To soothe and satisfy,
He needs not another,
Without her pure breast he may die,
It made her cry, it made her sore,
But breast is best, they cry for sure!
(C) Livvi
I do write some very strange things sometimes...days off and all that!
Olivia Kent Aug 2014
Dashing stealth.
Bins of wealth.
Perfect health.
Angular retreat.
Clandestine dwellers.
Heart breakers.
Sorrow makers.
Illicit shadows.
Foxes sly.
Hovering as praying birds.
Story catching.
Dream catching.
Truth distorting.
Expose of life.
Un secret de Polichinelle.
Their cameras.
They'll have you believe,
that they never lie.
Underground worms.
Detritus munching.
Anything that makes a buck.
Invasive bloodied journalists.
(C) Livvi
Olivia Kent Aug 2013
Abysmal!

Burning,
Curling up inside,
Edges are all frazzled,
Crisp as arid soil,
What is happening,
Feeling truly soiled,
Hurting, torn as ribbons stranded,
In a rage of pity,
Screaming as a banshee,
Wailing at the gates of hell,
Wanting to come in,
Can't break through,
Barriers to strong,
Angels try to stop the fall,
Unable to preserve,
Sanity and dignity,
Nothing's left,
Vacated here!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Olivia Kent Nov 2014
Took an amble through the countryside.
Saw the hills climbing over the landscape.
Appearing as the humps of a dark dragon.
Or maybe a sea monster.
The dusk edges the hills.  
They spill over the lumpy landscape.
X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X
The evening copse hides sorcery.
The magic of the night.
Took a silent peep.
In the brushwood hid the equine form, edged with silver glow.
Slight in build.
A single twisted horned beast shivered.
It scrapes the floor with it's front hoof.
Flicking the night with it's mane.
X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X
You move to the side.
Oh hell there's a rock.
You trip.
It's aware of your presence.
Whoosh, off into the night a silent blaze in the dark.
X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X
That lump on the side of your head hurts so much.
Even to the softest touch.
Or was it really there at all?
X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X
Morning came.
The dew fell.
Marching rambler came across a distressing sight.
Had he been there all night?
In silence he slipped away.
(C) Livvi
Olivia Kent Jan 2015
Started out beautiful a perfect female form.
He moulded her between his hands.
A figure to die for.
Apparently a perfect 69.
The months went by,
His honey flowered.
Bloomed in front of his love filled eyes.
Her belly bulged as if a whale.
Her lover watched her changing shape emerge.
Lover got frightened, so set sail.
The months they flew by, the baby born.
The infant bought a brand new dawn.
Nice to have a happy ending,
This is Miss Livvi's  rather silly fairy tale.
(C) LIVVI
A spot of mischief ** my sense of humour is playing x
Olivia Kent Dec 2013
Bless you.
A future from a Christmas gone.
So brave it was to raise a smile.
One brief life exchanged for two.

Your son had gone in tragedy.
He left a heart.
A gift that grew.

From one family's last Christmas sorrow.
Another young man was given tomorrow.

The heart of young man died.
In another he did arise.

Lifted from near death.
To a future of universal chances.

Gave such a wonderful gift.
Tonight they meet.

A spoken thank you face to face.
So bless those who lost their son.

A bright future for the one.
To see another rising sun.

Seized another day.
Saved and thanked.

Another young mans life was spared.
Before it was sadly lost.
Thanks to bereaved parents who cared.

And thanks to the lost son.
Who blessed his parents who spoke his wishes.
Before in tragic death he left!

By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Tonight on T.V. a father will meet a young man whose son died so another could live. He died in an accident last Christmas. The father so wonderfully gave his son's heart to another young man in accordance with the deceased's wishes.
Olivia Kent Jan 2015
LSD summoned me.
It opened my eyes.
Filled me with patterns.
Behind my eyes hid flashes.
With dots and with dashes.
Obscenity and darkness.
It promised me nothing, sold me no lies.
My assaulted brain, it painted the skies.
Above and below, upside down and inside out.
It was fun at the time, but I left it behind.
A long time ago.
Now I got boring, listen hard.
Hear my snoring.
My personality will bore you witless.
Okay,  so I lied.
Eerily enlightened.
No longer scared.
Who cares?
(C) Livvi
Olivia Kent Nov 2013
On a hurricane it came.
Knocked down the old wooden fence.
Melted it.
Was a dark night.

The night the sky cried a torrent.
Ripped landfill inside out.
******* thrown across the land.
Compliments of bad weather's hand.
Battered fish deep in the pond.
Was not a millpond placid.

The landscape melted.
Courtesy.
Reigning acid.
The queen of the stormy skies!


By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Olivia Kent Jun 2015
My muse is not amused today.
I'm singing oh so out of tune.
A silver spoon placed in my mouth.
Loaded with cough linctus and antipyretics.
My head is full of puffy fluff.
My brain is thinking loads of tosh.
Catarrhal mind.
Well stuffed up.
Guttural laugh of a cackling witch.
A throat full up with burning itch.
A nose that's headed to the store before I even leave the door.
(c)Livvi MMXV
Olivia Kent Dec 2013
A.D. (AFTER DEATH) DARK POEM

Inter me with a pen in hand.
A pad beside me as I sleep.
Candle positioned with me,
Safe in my box.
Light source of truth,
So I know I can see.
For me at the end,
On the day they freeze time at the end of life's clock!
Don't want to get bored laying under the ground.
Exhume me I pray,
Let my dead words be found!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Olivia Kent Mar 2014
Sat here, awaiting the arrival of grandson number four.
The darling daughter rests downstairs, as I wait for the stork to call.
A posing question, is he a Maribou?
Hope he's not a Maribou; for they are carnivores.
Got to hope he isn't hungry, as he lands outside my door.
Think he's just a cartoon character escaped from world of myth.
I'm just taking the pith (with a lisp).
Does he attend with infant in beak, wrapped in a ***** at the end of next week.
I think not!
Hope he doesn't sling him down my chimney, because it's all blocked off.
Can  you ever imagine an infant **** in the chimney ***?
Oops I forgot, how could I ever?
Poor Laura has to do hard labour before her chap is born.
(C) Livvi
Olivia Kent Mar 2014
Ageing is pursuing youth.
My age, it's feeling just a touch fatigued.
Sure as hell it will catch up with me  soon.
Caught age as the stars in a curtain of net,
Captured them there, to keep them precious hostage.
The sunshine, it chases the youth dew away.
Evasion is impossible, impertinent to try.
Make the most of  precious life, before in flaming fire,  life becomes exhausted.
(c) Livvi
And no I'm not depressed, just feeling achy after a stressful day ** :-)
Olivia Kent May 2013
This is a very dark write
A Day in Forever :Rhetorical Question!

Lily death banners,
Scent strong,
Almost pungent,
Spangled with stamen oozing sun pollen,
Noses drip allergic to the thought of death and pollen akin,
While eyes cry last goodbyes,
Pollen's drips into the valley of death's dark dreams,
A funeral dirge in sombre sobriety,
There is no fun in funeral,
The dead won't awake,
Their leave they do take,
Escape from the mortal trials,
Tell me,
Are we dead or just sleeping?

Sleeping so soundly,
Eyes shut tight,
Dis-budded as wedding carnations,
As wreaths laid on tombs,
Of those entombed,
Folks embalmed in deaths dark hallows,
Resting today in forever land!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Olivia Kent Feb 2017
And the crack heads were standing around on the corner.
Eyes hanging on stalks.
As eagles they watch.
The girls walk by with their handbags on arms.
Flashing their smiles and immense lucky charms.
And they chase her down the road, like god awful toads.
Who thinks that they're hot,
I assure you they're not.

Their faces laden with swollen oozing pores.
Result of a good many scores.

One's nose kept on streaming, his throat's really sore,
His head, always believing his feet miss the floor.

As he vomits in the corner, he expects her to care.
She looks straight through him as if he's not there.
Not a care did she give,
All she muttered was "***** you"!
(C)LIVVI
Olivia Kent Oct 2014
This evening a terrible discovery I made.
Adolf ****** was a ******.
On all those life's he preyed.
He played his sickening games.
When totally out of his head.
The megalomaniac leader.
Plastered out of his head.
He ran impure merry hell.
He played wicked games with crystal ****.
Never let the world forget,
Just how corrupting drugs can get.
Not just his head but many more.
Drugs responsible.
Mass destruction.
Chemical war.
Drug addicted mother's *****.
For all out war.
(C) Livvi
I just watched a documentary about A.H.drug addiction..Had to write this!!
Olivia Kent May 2015
Chasing dreams.
You know what it means?
Hot in pursuance,
Rainbow chaser.
Smiling faces.
Crock-pots full up with gold.

It was only when I saw him.
A perfect specimen of a young man.
An Asian Adonis.
He was sat on the bus in front of me.
Perfect build, marvellous smile,
Everything fitted.
His eyes caught mine.
He stimulated me.
Sadly just my pen.
It took me all day to write this.
Sadly realising,
I'm ancient in comparison.
Such is life.
He looked at a young woman with scarlet hair.
Did I care, of course I did.
I wouldn't let it show though.
Today I write my silly words.
Just to let you know.
Don't know if you noticed me.
I sure as hell did, did you?
If you were on that bus about half past nine.
You won't remember me,
You were just today's inspiration.
Revel in the attention,
Hope you're flattered,
By she to whom, you'll never matter.
(c) Livvi MMCV
Dedicated to a young man on the U1a bus from Southampton at about 2115 last night...
Good grief I'm shocking.
Olivia Kent Jul 2013
Adorned!
Adorned in scarlet,
Love as she bleeds,
A heart torn out still beating,
Bathed in claret,
Drenched in tears,
Silent, cowering in vacant corners of abysmal dismay, in total disarray of obsolete dreams,

Tears flow as torrential rain,
Spirit vacates words, as lies corrupt and die,
Doomed to wait in misery while eternity waits impatiently,
Cloven hooves etch on worn ,
Welcome unto desolation in degenerate spirit form,
Burning as lightening catches me, electrifying fingertips,
Kissing in magnification,as spirit charged in justification,
Live to love another day,from whence pain came and went astray!
By ladylivvi1
© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Olivia Kent Oct 2014
Jumped from his trusty steed, was desiring sweetness' touch.
Silently, he creeps through undergrowth so soft.
Sparkling damp with dew drops, remnants of warm summer shower.
Tales before, had spoke of precious women.
Woman pure who came to bathe in the stream.
Silent he came.
He had to be quiet,
No desire he had to scare them beauties away.

In this tranquil spot, he heard the laughs of woman.
Splashing  dressed only in their naked form.
My how they played.
He watched in silent silhouette, he desired so he not be seen.
The sight of their young adult form , was glory as was perfect poetry before very his eyes,
Purity personified, each and every one.

His body ached ferociously.
Oh for just for one sweet touch.
One such beauty caught his eye.
Eye locked on maiden fair.
Pretty face with flaxen hair.
Hair descended in wavy rivers down her back,'twas shining in the sun.
Shining to his hearts appeal,

His heart was set, his match he'd met.
One knight minus suit of armour,

His only goal to charm her.
Discreet and pure.
Away from stream did lure her kindly.
He did summon her.
By means a little bit absurd made strange cry of a weird bird.
One she'd never heard before.

Each sweet moment, he wanted her more.
He made her jump, near out of her skin.
In the glint of her eye,his maiden now spied,
Her ushered her over.
Cute maiden.
So fair.
By now was feeling truly aroused.
Eyes of fire.
His passion alive.

The knight took his lady.
Placed his cloak upon the grass .
A garland of roses, placed under her head.
She laid calm.
Serene.
Tranquil,

He leaned over her body and kissed her.
His kiss she full returned.
How she yearned.
Gentle caresses.
Relieving his stresses.
while her tresses.
He duly caresses in return!
No distress.
Together in near silence,

They stroked only making contact by eye.
Passion enhances their chances.
As beautiful love bans they make.
Kisses taste of honey shared.
While from the ****** womb surreal.
Supreme.
Sweet scent a woman exudes.
Elusive before newness birthed.
Here enters loves precious joy.
Between ****** young woman and grown up young boy.
A kiss before leaving hard full on her lips,
Hand in hand.
They to go.

An announcement to the ruler of the realm.
Their full intention,
Nothing else to mention.
It was not just ***.
But new love truly.
Another luscious fairy tale.
Another dream come true.
(c)Livvi
Sorry, I couldn't resist this!
Livvi
Olivia Kent May 2014
They collected cockles on the seashore,
Purely for their crunchy shells,
To decorate the rockery, in the flower garden,
They were washed up in abundance,

The rock pools alive with shrimp things,
And worms, that wriggled and jiggled, all twisted and turned.
The rocks round the edges were slippery and slimy,
Crabby creatures were kind of nippy, as was the water of spring time tides,
And the **** of the sea, predicted the weather,
Again, their predictions, they were never ever right.

Youngsters with nets, collected their pets,
Poor little pool fish, destined to die,
In an old preserve jar,
Left on the side in the kitchen,
The one with mid-brown melamine,
Under the cupboard, by the door,
Mummy keeps *******,
She never wants sea fish alive in her kitchen,
Mummy never made their flamboyant offspring, set them free,
The fishes day out died,
Minute silver things, skirting about,
Too small to even splash.
Kids curiosity got them, as down the loo they slipped,
Dead fish, on the sewer dash, repatriated to the sea.
(C) Livvi
Well I don't know where this came from!
Olivia Kent May 2014
A stone around a broken neck.
Contorted misfit, from a prison cell.
Locked in for fear of fleeting love.
Open yourself, oh male one.
Drop all your ******* protestations.
Answer her, here and now.
Upon what basis is your fear?
All that's left are faded dreams of drama queens and poetry.
Opaque in love's injurious injustice!
Is it maybe that the moment, that on my face your eyes may fall,
For fear that once again, true love may call.
You stumble knowingly within the pretense that you want is to fly free.
I have the perfect answer to this love that ails you:
From the eyes of the ornithologist, chickens cannot fly away, ostriches, they're always flashing in a dash, penguins love the chill of the thrill and turkeys they get eaten.
And hell you so like that!
(c) Livvi
Olivia Kent Jun 2014
Affected by time
Time flies as a temperamental child,
She’s chucking her toys out of her pram,
She’s a tempest in a glass casket,
Time zooms by.
A passing sparkling rocket.

Time grows and creates.
An education in the ways of life.
Time is the quay for the husband or wife,
An anchorage for quiet moments.
Spent together or alone.
Sadly,
The revolving of time is revolting at times,
The thought of ageing petrifies.
Time carried in her wings many friends and lovers.
Some current some lost.
Time herself is precious.
An ancient pearl, such wisdom.
Lessons learned.
No matter how many pleas we make.
For life and time to go slower,
It’s a natural progression.
Hanging out in a world of free expression,
Before into the light we fly.
©Livvi
Olivia Kent Mar 2016
There are moments in time when a fool is just what I am.
A fool for love.
A fool for a diamond.
A second hand on a failing clock.
A female clock with inoperable biorhythms.
Falling backwards.
Flicking my left hand over my right.
While blinding myself with the stab of a pointed finger.
Accidentally of course.
All in all I guess I'm just a fool.
Nobody's, fool save my own.
(C) LIVVI
Olivia Kent Dec 2013
Une lettre français!
 
Ne jamais révéler ce qui vérités que vous ressentez.
Les sentiments ont été conjuré. il vous a fait si triste.
Sentiments inhumés trouvés.
Ne savais pas que vous aviez.
Confus et si peur.
Mon co-accusés faisaient.
Dans un traumatisme.
Où l'amour a volé son armure.
Tout pour une dose de amore honnête.
Un visage toujours caché afin qu'il ne se perde pas.

La véritable amitié de la vie, la cause de ce gel.
Une fois très fort, maintenant si tristement perdu.
Vous a envoyé une carte pour le moment de l'année.
Probablement jeté dans la poubelle de la peur.

Je pourrais vous aimer jamais plus.
Cela aurait pu être plus jamais.
Mais maintenant, ma douce amie reposer en paix.
Peut sommeil éternel pas venir trop tôt.
Pour la gloire de l'amitié coincé au fond de cette tombe!
Avec l'amour d'un ami poétique.
Puisse notre amitié vraiment jamais de fin!
par ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (Tous droits réservés)
A French Letter!

Never revealing what truths you are feeling.
The feelings were conjured. it made you so sad.
Found interred feelings.
Never knew that you had.
Confused and so frightened.
My co-accused fell.
Into a trauma.
Where love stole his armour.
All for a dose of honest amore.
A face still concealed so it dosen't get lost.

True life friendship the cause of this frost.
Once very strong, now so sadly lost.
Sent you a card for the time of the year.
Probably discarded in the dustbin of fear.

I could love you never more.
Could have been forever more.
But now my sweet friend rest in peace.
May eternal sleep not come too soon.
To the glory of friendship stuck deep in it's tomb!
With the love of a poetic friend.
May our friendship truly never end!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Olivia Kent Oct 2013
Aftermath!

Wind blew away.
Tumbled trees.
Across the road were slain.
Trees deceased.
One or few.
Caught by the branches.
Felled.
Chaos in diversion's drench.
Liken to flowers on tender stems.

Trains deceased for hour of rush.
As leaves and rainfall both did gush.
Muddles of puddles.
Leonine wind.
Did the holy roar.
Sent from heaven or forced from hell.

Today the weather she presents no passion.
Slight chill in her heart.
Sun in her eye.
Storm forced out.
Fear did die.
Silent clouds drift through blue skies.
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Olivia Kent Oct 2014
Walking up the bloodstream hills.
Where silent warriors fell.
The land of noise and gun shot.

And so the holy fell.
As they fell into the asylum.
Rocking in chairs without rockers.

Enter stage left, the therapist,
the one with the listening ears.
He looks straight through those tears as whimsically they fall,
Drooling from your smile.
Trying so determinedly.
To try and raise a grin.
Matters not how hard he tries
You know he'll never win.
His smile mere mania.
Nothing whimsical dwells there within.
Pass him the gin bottle.
This mother's ruined,
(C) Livvi
The whimsical comments were not discussing issues of smiling...more the
feelings of total distress..following the witnessed issues, the complete loss of emotional control.
Olivia Kent Sep 2015
Wondering.
Do we know what happens when we are dead?
Is it possible, that we wake in a lively place?
A lovely place perchance.
A room full of folk, in various states of health, or not anymore.
Nobody, here seems aware of the score.
All seeming a little bit vague.
Potential for melancholic moments of reflection.
Not really awake, drowsy.
In a state of shock from sudden death?

Will the holding area be warm and cosy?
Receptionist with a phone to her ear.
A bit ****** nosy,if you ask me.
"Take a seat please dear,somebody
will be with you soon."

Oh no, that the guy over there is trying to sort out his beak, it seems to be bleeding a bit.
They don't seem to be very caring in here.
Preoccupied,with buckets of fear.
"Take a seat please dear"
Have a cup of Rosie Lea.
Speaking of Rosie Lea, there may be a little old dear reading the leaves at the base of her empty cup.
She may not speak, but I have a feeling, she'll say to me,"you know what lovey,whatever will be will be."
Welcome to eternity!
(c)Livvi
Olivia Kent Mar 2014
Sunset of lace, clothed in burning red,  much cherished purveyor of spring.
Alluding sunshine's glowing grin bowing in attendance to springtime's morning glee.
The leaving winter shed no tears today, still the breeze, it was but a gentle stroke, chided cheeks with rose thorn scratch.
A white dove perched tentatively awaiting in potential peace,  it seemed to be in a bit of a tizzy.
It tangled itself in the hawthorn in bloom,  seeking escape from infernal gloom.
(C) LIVVI
Olivia Kent Aug 2014
This planet,
our planet,
Earth,
the one that we borrowed from the universe,
an eclipse in a circle,
an orbit in time,
that's blocking the sun,
as fear descends.

Where new life is a constant, a brewing machine
in the abundant bellies of various nations.
As nations changes from wealthy to poorer.
between haves and have nots,
all politics and power
From Godly to badly,
closer to the darkest hour.

Secret situations,
Stuck fast inside a Jack in a box,
realms of shocking surprises,
and evil devices,
as brothers and sisters they maim one another,
or steal the lives of the innocent ones.

The time is now when the headless fellows fall,
For no good reason,
none at all.
This is not needed,
this evil is seeded and tossed into the wind,
to await the dropping dust and the setting of the sun.
(c) Livvi
Olivia Kent Sep 2015
Sky full of clouds
Turning inside out.
A ministry of menace.
Much too loud.
****** clouds.

Dogs are black chasing persecution.
Severest biting.
Frightening.
Scary silence.
Locked away.
I ain't coming out today.

They said the sky hung black once before.
When Jesus Christ hung on that cross.
My cross too much to bear.

Words that echo retribution.
What have you done this time?
What have you done?
What have you done indeed?

The devil bears a trident.
It snares my passion and my love.
Upon which demons feed.
They feast in continuum.
My demons got me.
My demons won.

Broken unholy.
Heavy head.
Mine eyes are dripping scarlet red.
Captain Scarlet is just a fantasy.
The blood from my eyes is flowing free.
Chased by the dog with a lusting for for food.
****** ******* is baying for blood.

If I had a dagger I'd ram it in.
Into his skin.
It has to go.
Dying daily at  his control.
With his paws with sharp claws on he's digging a hole.
To drag me down with him.
All that he's after.
My beautiful brain, he's out for the slaughter.
He's stolen my laughter.
Sentenced here ever after to never love or laugh again.
A lifetime of pain.
It's not fair.
I whinge again and he don't care.
Neither do you.
Laugh out loud,
The world loves you.
Hide from sight.
Never sleep.
Sleep too much.
Mood affected.
Mood defective.

They grin, they smirk,they smile at you pitifully.
Saying pull yourself together now.
Truth is I don't know how.

Everything's eating my brain.
I'm feel nothing.
Uncomfortably numb.
The music's over.....
Goodbye.
(c) Livvi
Olivia Kent Jun 2014
Senior moments,
a reflection,
times gone by,
the young ones,
they think us crazy,
we are not,
we carry on our shoulders,
experiences learned,
reparations of broken hearts,
separations and marriages of minds,
times of celibacy,
fingers sometimes burned,
fiddling with things,
things we don't want to talk about,
events of nothingness,
our children,
apparently they love us,
occasionally they prove it,
we prove to them entirely,
that as grown ups,
we're not truly mad,
our levels of interest,
considered somewhat obsolete,
in comparison to the focus of  our maturity,
but,
as adults we must remember,
we don't always know best!
(C) Livvi
Olivia Kent Jan 2016
Take the second door on the left as you leave.
Don't walk back in again.
Leave your key on the ******* in hook.
The one on the ice cold wall.
You're not ******* me again.
Your broke my heart with icicles.
Falling from toxic skies.
Promised love got fed lies.
Nothing new in that I see.
Ripped off your chains.
Now I'm free.
Your bird has flown.
Emigrated.
Overrated.
Your bird went cold.
Moving away before she's before she got old.
(c)LIVVI
Olivia Kent Feb 2015
Oh for reckless dreams of walking back to childhood.
Much too late, but much too soon.
Of walking over sandy shores.
Hand in hand with the love of one's life.
Once upon a life time ago, was  someone's pretty little wife.
Too soon became trouble and strife.
Time went and caught her up.
Not quite enough to be ready to die.
The ****** get wet  and the passion has passed.
Knicker elastic crawls over her waist.
Thrillers becoming passion killers.
And still we giggle like teenagers, a little less wriggling about.
Her tights dangle down as if there's no tomorrow.
Ageing bought nothing but truth and sorrow.
But it's not  going to  get me
I just won't let it.
Even tho' this stubborn old goat is a nanny.
(c ) Livvi
Olivia Kent Jul 2014
Now is but my finest hour,
as flowers spray,
Mine is that of scented roses,
wound round trellis in my garden,
such delight,
My years.
they are  just flowers in the sun,
loaded with seeds to multiply,

Mine,
are buddlea blooms on bushes,
bright blue,
enticing butterflies,
or dried lavender,
freshens costumes for work and play,
blouses of pure chiffon,
cotton and silk,

As age passes,
so,
so does my style,
Once was decadent and hectic,
now dressed with serenity,
I'm just,
Just still a hippie at heart.
(C) Livvi
Olivia Kent Nov 2016
There was a time.
When a child cried.
Somewhere, in a distant memory,
Children became, but once forgot.
As, they for whom once being parents died in mind.
Old boys and old girls become wasted by life.
Once somebodies' mother, husband or wife.
Old soldiers.
Land girls.
Yesterdays heroes and heroines.
Paths climbed by time honoured sons.
Orchards laden with precious fruit,
Turning russet with increasing age.
Family's breeze onwards.
Through generation gaps.
As times always in a hurry, too much.
And after moaning and groaning,
They're talking in muddles again
Old boys and girls ,take their much needed naps.
Best times are the rest times.
Past times ,
Just precious recollections in foggy brown puddles.
(C) LIVVI
Alzheimer's...
Olivia Kent Feb 2014
Watch your eyes guys.
Eyes despise them.
Hit a raw nerve as they cross the path.
Tried to run off to work in a hurry.
In front of me they block the path.
One grand upwards blast chucks them inside out!
People with umbrellas, really make me cross.
More wild than the rain and wild wind themselves.
(c) Livvi 2014
Olivia Kent Apr 2016
Stir me up.
I'm agitated.
Life frustrates this being.
(C) LIVVI
9 words
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