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I
Opusculum paedagogum.
The pears are not viols,
Nudes or bottles.
They resemble nothing else.

            II
They are yellow forms
Composed of curves
Bulging toward the base.
They are touched red.

            III
Having curved outlines.
They are round
Tapering toward the top.

            IV
In the way they are modelled
There are bits of blue.
A hard dry leaf hangs
From the stem.

            V
The yellow glistens.
It glistens with various yellows,
Citrons, oranges and greens
Flowering over the skin.

The shadows of the pears
Are blobs on the green cloth.
The pears are not seen
As the observer wills.
She's cool but hot and got the lot,sophistication,determination,she gets what she wants and gets it all.
She's tall and slim,sharp as a pin,I can't fool her and wouldn't dare,but sometimes when she's unaware,
I pull a funny face at her and laugh inside just like a child.
She makes me wanton
She is wild, especially if she gets riled,she makes me smile,she makes me sing and
she makes me
everything.
Ancient Work!
Posted by Olivia Kent on March 14, 2013 at 6:01pm
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Look at a building constructed of stone, rhomboid bricks of multiple facets, so many hues..easily seen.
Built in isolation stands lone for several lifetimes and more,
The face at top welcomes me in , at the start of each day I work..!
A theatre  with no curtain call, lives close to the sky,
One or two lovers just come here to die..,.
No Romeo or Juliet waiting here,
Just Mr.S and his lovely old dear, they say good bye as a chap and wife,
In Winchester hospital he left this life !
Such sweet kiss he gave her before his depart, cos old age grabbed him,
cease-fired his heart!
Declared a love forever so true,
Loved for a lifetime, this magical two!
Copyright Livvi Kent 14/03/2013.
This is not a love poem.


I spotted you walking up the rugged, asphalt laden path,
Before the streetlamps could steal their first glimpse.
I beat them to you.

She seemed to befriend the darkness.
Out of this gratitude, she was cloaked in the garments of the night sky.
Holding all of the characteristics of a falling star,
All but one singularity.
Her light never extinguished.
Her flame never ceased to burn.
And there stood I, a simple gazer of constellations.
Trapped in her universe,
But not imprisoned.
I wish upon her;
My plummeting star.

I fell for you first.

Perish the thought,
Any that come to mind.
For you see, no star has ever surrendered its sparkle,
On behalf of the master of the telescope.
And every astronomer, both now, and from the days of yore,
Has been afflicted by this injustice.
What is it in a poet's brain that makes us what we are,
It is a seek of imagery,
In everything we see,
And in everything we do,
Amazing what we can do with blue,
What we can do with precious stones,
All us poets understand!

It is having an emotive heart to feed our art with fire,
An eye to see,
A mind to dream,
To live in virtual fatasy,
Interpretation's everything,
Unlock the door to using pen,
When you look and look again!

Write what you see,
See what you write,
Never found anything else with such might,
My pen, my notepad and computer fight,
In a battle none will never win,
For I write my heart and soul,
My only wish,
Is that the images I create,
Can be visualised by the reader too,
It is my one and only goal!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
I did not change my day in anyway because of God or any other sod who poked his nose into my business
I got more or less but usually ****** all from sanctities sat in some easy chairs in hardship hall and telling me how to behave,
or pointing me in some direction expecting rehabilitation and perfection.

I changed because of you alone and how you changed me,
how could one man be so blind with blinkered eyes and not see kindness,love and honesty, that shone from you and into me.
Oh
how simple it now seems when dreams come true and you are here
how easy to slip off that coat of nonchalance and fear and wrap my arms around the arms that wrap around a man like me.
This could be the reason why I want to fly,to float,to sing and shout and wave my hands about
this could be my making and I am yours,here for the taking,take me now and show me how to love you true,to be at one with you and we could be that harmony.
I was imprisoned but now I'm free
and now I see,
the plan designed for me
included you
and you
alone.
used to sleep easily
without thinking of you
used to go on social networks easily
without thinking of you
used to talk to you
to joke with you
to kid with you
easily, without any doubt
used to do my daily routines like normal
without thinking of you
but now
everytime i wanna sleep
you'll fill my imaginations
and when i wake up
i still have you in my mind
when i go on social networks
i'm hoping you to be online
when i talk to you
i'll stagger a little
when you make jokes with me
it's becoming more awkward each day
it's like i'm hiding my true-self behind the curtains
when i'm doing my daily routines
it's like i'm not doing one
because i always think of you

everything used to be okay
what is life about?
sometimes it's impossible not to doubt
and what of those who sell
their souls to dwellers in hell?
we grow up defining right and wrong
their words almost a prayer song
there comes a time when we no longer believe
the ingrained reasons there for delusional relief

why are we so afraid
to declare past stereotypes dead?
we know we shouldn't question
things such as religion
it's natural to just accept
and yes, we've done just that
but are opinions from different perspectives
really as deadly as explosives?

is heaven really in existence
or a lie to forbid any resistance?
we realize much more as we grow
the things we shouldn't even want to know
they say we're here for a purpose
are you sure life isn't but a repetitive curse?
maybe the stars making up the constellation
are souls who have failed in reincarnation

perhaps only those closer to death—
those who are left without breath
maybe they know every answer
the answers to the things we wonder
they merely have no time
to repent for their mediocre yet grave crime—
this world holds an endless grudge
especially towards those who judge
so why are they hiding the truths
hiding them from next generation's youths?

- - -
some things in life i ponder about every time.
maybe some answers would be good.
answers would be good.
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