We will sit in a small room
and I will awkwardly explain to you
the naming system
and why storms and hurricanes
are named after people.


The moment I leave
you will understand
why storms are named after people

Glass of red in hand, she watches the rain.
The pane of glass the only barrier between her and thunder.
Thinking whilst drinking should not be undertaken at any costs.
How old is too old?
Why does the thunder clap rather than sing?
Slowly she turns away from the window, sets the glass down
and turns the wheelchair toward the bedroom.
Still the storm rages, the thunder claps, and her heart sings
Q:How old is too old? : Answer: right now
The bottle of tablets falls to the floor, ironically timed with a thunderclap.

They're stood on the station,
Full on armed,
with excitement and cameras,
not an anorak in sight,
they have better cameras than most do,
sit down beside them,
please do,
they'll make you so welcome,
just pull up a pew,
if it does it for you,

A wet Friday morning,
yet again the sky cries,
another desperate being dies,
the train got wet,
as yet another one died,
cried not enough perhaps,
inconsolable,

Not a thought for the driver,
and all the survivors,
when they ran out of time,
at the end of the line,
maybe another way could be better,
the sky cries some more,
as another one leaves,
painting the platform crimson,
again,
another one who kissed the train,
only way to cure their pain!
(C) Livvi

Laughter is the strongest
Medicine on Earth.
Fourteen ****** when
You might have
Needed
One.

Hey God, scoot over a bit. I'm feeling kinda tired. Would you fluff that cloud for me?  Ah, thanks dude, much better. My head's been feeling heavy. The closer I get to the end of the road, well...makes me wonder why bother with the rest of the show. The endings are all the same.

To be honest, it hasn't been quite all it was hyped.  We start running low on that joy thing and all of a sudden it just seems so ...pointless.  I find myself wondering if my dog is going to outlive me. ****'s that about?  I've had a dozen or so dogs and this is the first I've ever worried about whether one would be sad if I checked out tomorrow. Another sad lonely old dog ain't going to be the end if the world.

Even poetry's not doing much for me. Face it, mine's fallen flat, and with the exception of a handful of golden pens on HP, it's kind of gone to hell. Oh, I don't blame eliot. That's what happens when us old ***** play around with technology that the youngins know more about. Algorithm doesn't know **** about poetry, and all I know about hash is how to smoke it. Think I'll just stay up here and rest a spell. This fluffy cloud is feeling mighty fine.

r ~ 5/23/14

I have this creeping ache on the edges of my bones
like the way crystal forms,
slowly.

Like the way prehistoric bugs that live in caves die every day.

I think I forgot to close my eyes and woke up blind.

I live my days hoping to grow inwards until my bones
start the delicate tearing of my skin and
water fills my lungs.

I have longed for this to happen ever since i was 7 and
I heard drowning was the closest you can get to

euphoria.