From the depths of the fresh whisky bottle.
Weltschmerz, (world weary), altered  his thought concoctions.
His pleasure filled coffee.
Invigorated by inspirational alcohol filled kisses.
Ode to being happy, as happy he's not.
To be loved is something, he truly forgot.
She's not a drinker.
She's just a deep thinker
She never forgot.
For she never knew, how love truly felt.
Then she met you, the angel  who drank.
Once she was lucky.
For once, just once she loved an angel.
(c) Livvi

I fell in love
With your
Laughter
And your smile
Your jokes
And stories
I fell for
The way you
Wrap your
Arms around me
The way you
Comfort me
And the way
You make my
Heart flutter
I fell
For the way
You looked at me
And the way
You cared
Unlike any other
I fell for
The way
You made me happy
And I fell
For your
Craziness
Because
You fell for mine.

They'll say that God had need of him
Before his time,
That angels sought his company

For beauty's sake
In mind or soul,
That stars will shine far brighter

In the night of all their dread
Now he's dead at 29 years old,
And they must feel the cold

Of his departure all the more,
Like one whose ship has left the shore
For far off places,

They must have his face in mind
To keep as photograph,
In silver frame,

Until such time
That he and they
Are once again in arm's fond hold

And all the love returns
To cease the cold
And lonely days of aching grief.

A grave man needs a wife
With whom to share his life--
Wise, warm and straight spouse
To keep and tend his house,
Both making a merry home
Until the Lord's kingdom come.

It's April Fools today.
Thought a laugh I would relay.
As child of nine or ten,  was given some astounding news.
Heard news from my teacher, a wild Mrs Knight.
She relayed a curious tale.
The tale of the ***** gentleman, who maybe being a mental man.
Rode Victoria Falls from top to bottom fast.
Mrs Knight she told us, that black man washed out pure white.
Finding this rather hard to believe.
That a teacher could her class deceive.
She was a yarpie, sung her story as wild harpy.
I remember very clearly the image of Mrs Knight.
With the face of a teabag and blazing red hair flaming bright.
Teachers in training always beware.
Ex pupils remember your lessons.
Years after they were there!
(c) Livvi

There's a girl I know.
And if ever there was an empathic soul,
she'd be in the running for the gold.
This girl I know.

Hold not my head in a dream.
Keep me locked tight in my field of ignorance.
Fenced in with barbs of silence.
Poison seeps from my mortal wounds.
Protection held close to my chest, so with thy dagger thy may not ****.
My friend at my store of convenience, she spoke, said to me,
"Why do you always write dark stuff"?
With a glint in my glass eye and a wry smile, I replied,because, "I can"!
(C) Livvi

Lying, thinking
Last night
How to find my soul a home
Where water is not thirsty
And bread loaf is not stone
I came up with one thing
And I don't believe I'm wrong
That nobody,
But nobody
Can make it out here alone.

Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.

There are some millionaires
With money they can't use
Their wives run round like banshees
Their children sing the blues
They've got expensive doctors
To cure their hearts of stone.
But nobody
No, nobody
Can make it out here alone.

Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.

Now if you listen closely
I'll tell you what I know
Storm clouds are gathering
The wind is gonna blow
The race of man is suffering
And I can hear the moan,
'Cause nobody,
But nobody
Can make it out here alone.

Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.