One potato.
Two potato,
Potato three.
Hangs heavy upon the Christmas tree.
Swinging there beside the glamorous sparkly baubles.
Upon the top a tarty barbie.
The residue of Christmas past.
When darling daughters played with dolls.
Barbie wears a grubby dress.
Fake nylon hair a ****** mess.
The grandkids stuck on plastic wings.
A little authenticity.
Teased by the season to be jolly.
Phoney grins.
Old ladies gins.
And buckets of whisky.
The lovely old dear is a little bit frisky.
Out with the lunch.
All sit and munch.
Hey **.
Hope we have snow.
Not a chance.
A merry dance in total farce.
Ladies and gentlemen.
The English lady poet is having a giraffe.
She's a little loud.
Always proud.
What more can I say?
(c)LIVVI

Waited in a graveyard.
Full with silent emptiness.
Until your chains rattle.
Aware again.
Stirring as if a toxic tangerine cocktail.
The chains are sounds of dashing cars and stormy weather.
Playing with the winter trees.
Dried out leaves.
Fiddling with thought patterns.
Incantations.
Flying past onward moving.
Razor blades skimming.
Wild and windy,
Tempestuous.
Teasing thoughts from the abyss.
Taunting.
Teasing.
No more than unwanted recollections.
LIVVI

It's all so different now.
The tide laps onto my toes.
Water swathed with the **** of the sea.
Its salty aroma tantalises my nares.
Once upon a time,
I loved the sea with all of my heart and most of my soul.
The water would soothe all my cares away.

I would stand up in a start as you passed me by yet again.
My Adonis in silver.
I say silver, because time stole the black as it passed.
You never knew.
I was your silent witness.
I'd watch you pass by.
Envious, I'd never say.
I wouldn't dare.
A different woman upon your arm.
Even a man or two.
That baffled me.
I never knew.
Never suspected that I'd be rejected.
We were close.
So close.
My excitable quiver,
A cold shiver, as you walked away.
You left our friendship behind.
These days you know,
I don't think I mind anymore.
(c)LIVVI

The bulldog on the rat run twiddled with his buttons.
The lady in the Beckham boot wobbled on one high heel.
Clickety clack.
Sounded like a walking pair of knitting needles.
Still the rain poured.
Getting right wet.
A day work bound and home again.
Ne'er to forget.
(c)LIVVI

The sky is hanging black as coal.
As ebony descends it's startling rain.
The wind that started as a minor breeze.
Let all remaining leaves fly free.
What leaves are left be chameleons.
Changelings in the heavy light,
Between the light as darkness falls.
In the city the wind dared bite back.
Screaming banshee like.
Short in sweater freezing back.
Marching on the autobus.
A store full of students are fussing and cussing.
Moaning and groaning as they hang in the queue.
Upon the bus the minions storm.
Saturday shopping.
Weekend norm.
(c)LIVVI