I used to think
The world was my canvas
I would paint upon
And speak my thoughts
That I ponder on
A World of love
I would write them unto my mind

That would hear my words
So I try and try
But to no avail
Our hearts are ripped
From day to day

We paint
We write
We love
We pray
In this world of canvas

Among all the meaningless time
In the end they are all the same
All the feelings that flows through our
Veins
As we discover life of the arts
In various ways
In the world of canvas...

Debbie Brooks 2014 -

You’re my tortured skin begging to feel your touch
Your words kiss me on my lips, your description
Fascinates me, with mouths wide open you hold me
In my vision….

You tell me I am your temptress of emotions, as you outline
My face with your fingertips, you touch me with a hunger
That burns, as my hand glide across your chest.. my face
rubs your manly hair, as my vision of you makes me smile…

With every step you make me in an ****** vision tunneled
I swallowed your intoxicate silhouette, as sweat drips
From my eyelashes, my lips tremble, as you approach me
I am open in the vibration of the vision …

Our bodies molten by the hot liquid of our lava, we gyrates
In our convulsion of each other, I see you turn In my direction
My pulse races at a faster impulsion, you stand there, soaking in my sight
I don’t want to walk away from this vision ….

Debbie Brooks 2014

A waste paper bin
Left in the corner.
Containing little folded up letters,
Discarded as the heart was.

A gang of  stupid teenage vandals having a laugh,
Disregarded what they had done.
Disposed of the butts irresponsible after having  their smokes,
In the bin.
Not doused.
The silly lads.
Wandered away.
They did not see the smouldering,
the burning in that bin
The origami scraps,
Folded as swans,
Too charred to fly away.
Sadly written on the innards of the origami swans,
Words carried on love letters never to be seen again.
Their love was carried away on a puff of white smoke.
(c) Livvi

Made me a coffee,
Forgot to boil the kettle first.
It was really rather cold,
Indicating that I must be getting old.
The microwave charmed me,
as it warmed up my mug,
Ah yummy,
Tepid nuclear coffee,
In the early afternoon.
(C) Livvi

What a loom of withered silver

As it spoons its satins lairs

As the tears weeps lonely tears

Drops of love gone down the glare ...


The heartless door to no return

Screaming at the cursed door

as you walked one last time

Telling me you're never come home ...


The withered silver lies on the floor

Holding my heart one last time

Tulips blooms seems to taunt me

Love dies... as I cry the death of tears.....


What luring pride of caustic nature

The kiss came like a whiplash like no other

That tore my throat in yellow sunlight

That carried him away one last time ...


As the grieving process began

As I lay among the field

In the withered silver snow

You never came back again....



By: Debbie Brooks 2014