My cheeks are painted yellow.
As the light begins to fade.
Coating my sweet cheeks in homemade lemonade.
My face is somewhat sickly sweet.
My toes seem bigger than my feet.
I'm tripping skywards in a dream.
Of candied slugs and magazines.
A diet that's precision based, where the scales only tell us lies.
Where terrorists are easy beat, as if they're fruity flies.
When journeys on trains are always pleasant.
How the beer is stronger the longer it ferments.
Where all the dolly birds make-up with cheapest brand cement.
For beauty is only skin deep and for missing youth I wholly weep.
Sitting on this planet while drifting off to sleep.
Inside my head a sorrow, that will for tomorrow keep.
(C) LIVVI

Life hath grown as a sprig of mint.
Fresh and new.
From hardened earth an old cold soul.
To warming coals

Spring is warming.
Tho days be but cold.
Daylight still short.

Mine heart to thee be wholly sold.

Thine inability should let the fires burn free.
As passion be arrested in development.
In constraints.

Irony of illness.
Physical inertia.
Wholesome in perfection.

As summer surges through the clouds.
You'll know mine heart be yours alone.
Matters not how long thy be.

Of hearts and minds.
You and I.
A knot that may be firmly tied.
(C) LIVVI

Major Tom's a spaceman.
Wing walker.
Space suit.
Mr Fix it.
Out in space.
Station without passing trains.
No sign of tracks.
Earth is dashing.
Flying past.
A blast in space.
Not lost in space.
No flowers or orchestral manoeuvres.
Just dancing in the dark.
(c)LIVVI

Find me a past I can collate.
A past I can rate.
A past to relate to.
A past with a future.
Embraced with endurance.
Dancing on hot coals.

Embrace the past lessons.
Of times so not well spent.
Find lovers and children.
Face indiscretions.
Back to front.
Inside of out.

Battle scarred.
A fire inside.
A bath edge tide mark.
A simple remark.
A discipline.
A need to win

The discarding of ******* into a fire.
Into a furnace.
Grimacing.
Can't care less.
It's all a lie.
Know why.
Nor how.

A cow.
Stood by an Indian stream
Waiting for goodness supreme.
Protected.
It's coming around.
(c)LIVVI

Have a passion for music.
A passion for plays.
Must be left overs of purplish haze daze.
A passion for words and good looking birds.
Elegant peacocks and pheasants that flap.
Tail feathers extended in preparation for glory.
Male display is a vigorous thing.
All for the sake of having a fling.
(c)LIVVI

Eyes too full with tears to cry.
Hunger gnaws away.
Chewing at inability to eat.
Sick and tired of living.
Too cold inside to give up and die.
You scream.
A tickle of fear.
What's next?
Not in agony persay.
You are crying for freedom.
Supported only by prickly pillows.
Enough is immense.
Too immense to bear.
You wait for the reaper.
For you, he is not grim.
He is awaited with excitement.
He is an absolute treasure.
A gift.
A perfection in relief.
He steals your last breath.
Your bedside friend.
This is the end for someone.
No body knows.
(C) LIVVI