I heard our song last night
it was your whispers in the rain
just one more time you held my hand
and you told me one last time, you loved
just me, and me only, our song held my heart
and made me cry for your love, that last night was
amazing, I knew I was lost, and I was found, when we
made love you fulfilled my every whim, when you were my man.
You didn't want to break my heart, you told me over and over
but I drifted and I didn't realize you were the world to me
you gave my heart a break, when i walked out of our
life, there were things we did not discuss, the heart
breaks, and singing of my life, with your words
that were whispers in the wind, I heard your
love and your touch in the day of our
hearts, Singing my soul so raw, so
new and being blue, looking for
love, with promises from
you ..

"listening for your whispers in the rain."*

Debbie Brooks 2014

walk, don't run
remember when we were young?
the days were marked with our
own personal nuance in our
transparent and unbreakable plans,
and the hours by childish boredom and
evanescent impulse to break them.
we settled into each our own,
that we shared because we thought
we had each other right,
and when we were wrong
we served to one another our
indentured solitude.
the seconds were my friends and the minutes
broke their promises never to be long;
i won't belong without you and your scent.
i am afraid to be
a guest in my childhood home and a
passing tourist in my former dreams
which include you
remember how we ran?
early in the morning
we were scientists of the mind and body
and questioners and beholders
we tried the position of inquisition
of feet upon the dashboard and trash about the floor
and cigarettes and something remembered
not as potent anymore.
walk, don't run.
remember how we tripped over each other?
impregnable intensity drained us of our reason;
control became an asset of the controlled
but now i stand by the flank of the
ranks of real people,
and they teach me how to walk away.  
we ran too much, i think.

Distressed distant skies fall.
They are heavy.
So heavy.
The clouds painted on the sky are loaded with bugs.
Bugs and beastly creatures.
Crucified skies bringer of Ebola, carried within the human body fluid rain.
(C) Livvi

I'd love to sculpt a figurine made from sold bronze.
It would remind me of the age of man.
I'd love to throw a ***.
Bake it in a kiln.
Glaze it with shiny patterns.
Images of suns and moons.
Stars and comets
A multitude of colour.
And only then after putting my world into my oven baked creation.
I would love to slam it at the wall.
To watch it erupt, as a furious fire work would do.
Exorcised frustration.
One great big bash.
What a smashing time I'd have.
But, my beautiful bronze sculpture.
In the form of subtle woman kind, would be left by aged design.
To age with only woman's grace.
As only woman can.
(C) Livvi

You hear the buzz.
Your body is tense.
The needle goes in.
The ink flows.

You begin to relax.
Your mind wonders.
Black and grays.
Traditional.  Oriental.

It's mesmerizes your soul.
You are lost in the moment.
Minutes turn to hours.
It's all done.

It is there.
On your body.
For the world to see.
Permanent ink.

The maiden with the bitten heart.
The chiselled one made out of ice.
Melted by a super nova.
From the starkness.
Out of darkness.
There so appeared the peeping green of snowdrop leaves.
Little white flowers trying hard to scratch the surface.
To bridge the pain of what once was.
The river simmers.
If water were able to burn,so sure they should be burning now.

Running beneath the bridge.
The bridge that sighs under the weight of the world.
The water holds it's passion tight,
So be it, let it burn.
just before it says goodbye.
Sends it to the estuary
Running wild
frothing free.
May the sea freeze.
Amen.
(C)LIVVI

Her look sends chills down my spine
Her kiss sends jolts from my lips to my toes
Her touch gives me goosebumps like a scary story
Her embrace warms me like nothing else
Everything about her is good for my soul