Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Olivia Kent Nov 2016
There was a time.
When a child cried.
Somewhere, in a distant memory,
Children became, but once forgot.
As, they for whom once being parents died in mind.
Old boys and old girls become wasted by life.
Once somebodies' mother, husband or wife.
Old soldiers.
Land girls.
Yesterdays heroes and heroines.
Paths climbed by time honoured sons.
Orchards laden with precious fruit,
Turning russet with increasing age.
Family's breeze onwards.
Through generation gaps.
As times always in a hurry, too much.
And after moaning and groaning,
They're talking in muddles again
Old boys and girls ,take their much needed naps.
Best times are the rest times.
Past times ,
Just precious recollections in foggy brown puddles.
(C) LIVVI
Alzheimer's...
Olivia Kent Nov 2016
All the world's a stage.
Bare planks of balsa wood tossed upon the breeze.
The butterfly twitches wings in Bangkok,
Cruise control Manilla.
South Asia sea rolls.
Butterfly with patterned wings,
Reverts to caterpillar.
A big fat hairy one.
Toking on a fat cigar,
Driving a huge expensive car.
Turns into a juggernaut.
Too large to carry on.
In the corner truck is stuck.
The stage it's fallen now,
But how?
Enter stage left a servant of the living crown present the globe with lots of luck.
Carried in a golden casket.
A world trade deal all linked up, within a worldwide shopping basket.
He grins from ear to ear.
Being positive right now,
As he wipes away world tears.
What a dear he is.
A smiling face.
Despite the fact his stage fell down.
He still smiles without a frown.
(c)LIVVI
Olivia Kent Nov 2016
Heaven was a summer's day.
Filled with warmth and vivid flowers.
Lovers underneath the tree.
There they were,
Just you and he.
You who serenaded her in dulcet tones.
Like never had she heard.
A voice of nightingale.
Ultimately just another bird.
A world filled up with one night stands.
Gentlemen?
She will query gentlemen,
Who just wanna hold hands.
No belief in love ever after.
The halls ring out in peals of laughter.
Before being a player.
Think long and hard,
How you would feel if that young lady was your daughter!
(c)LIVVI
Olivia Kent Nov 2016
Oh hell,
A firework hit the moon.
That means the tides are *******.
You kissed my soul with a purple balloon.
And so you ******* the alien.
Then the sun rose on eastern shores.
Surely not!
And the planet's corrupted by phoney power play.
Checkers and draughtsman.
Children sand huntsmen.
Spiders that play games taunting lizards.
In red hot desserts, where vulture soar.
Past the moon what got hit.
The tide's inverted and the gooneys play on pebble dashed beach.
Dreams imploded.
Out of reach!
(c)LIVVI
Olivia Kent Nov 2016
The morning made it once again
All hallows eve nothing, but a make up stain left on a costume, somewhat theatrical.
Today the autumn sun is up, praise be.
Glinting glamour on the trees.
Cobwebs tangle laundry lines.
Dream catchers,
Dew catchers.
The flies have no dreams.
Spiders sated.
Crystal fall.
Guy Fawkes will, but ******* remove.
Christmas coming with vitess.
New year.
2016, total mess.
(c)LIVVI
Thank you Stephen Cole ,for the inspiration for the
Olivia Kent Nov 2016
Fairy dancer in the lilac dress.
A little bit like me, as was once.
The youthful spirit.
Benevolent soul.
A skirmish in skittish, as tornado whirls.
Oh the young girls.
Faces buzzing as impromptu gnats.
Beauty personified.
My time fizzles like a failing firework.
My exuberance has gone.
Hers begun.
Girl in the lilac dress.
The green monster bit.
I find failings in me.
(c)LIVVI
Olivia Kent Oct 2016
See that zombie stood over there.
Caked in fresh blood.
It's under his hair.
Found a fella with a hole in his head.

Sad zombie fella.
Found a slice of mouldy old bread.
Used it as a soldier.
Dipped in his head.

No fun.
Newly made zombie.
He's always hungry,
Now he's dead.

Peeps at Mr Majestical's testicles.
Fancied chewing them.
Loved the juice.
Succulent as strawberries.
Raspberry sauce.
Blood of course.

Derwent fancied a bit of breast.
Loving mother told him.
Breast is always best.

Julie's just a crazy chick.
Fancied a nibble on the dead guy's ****.
Yummy, yummy.
Really sick.
Or should I say she ****** it.
As if it were a straw.
Special days of living.
Always was a *****.

The kid in the corner is popping out eyes.
Never really worked out why.
Perhaps he was thirsty.

Eleanor.

She fancied a nibble on the bladder and kidney.
Of a once fine chap.
Whose first name was Sidney.
***** tasted of peach lemonade.
Eleanor the dead chick.
Her day was made.
Got really drunk.

That Zombie's really ******.

Mum's over there.
One of them?
Or still my mum?
You know what?
I really don't care.
For the first time in my life.
I feel really scared.

Hell.
I digress.
They're chasing me now
I'm making a mess.
Run out of puff and all that stuff,

They're trying to eat me.
That's quite enough.
I'm feeling quite numb.
The dead ******* won.
Stripped all the tissue clean off my ***.

Chewed though a bit of a nerve.
Partially damaged.
You feeling the image?
Bled me near dry.
He did.
*******.
Made me cry.
For a second or two.

Lucky me.
One ate my eye.
So glad.
I won't see myself die.
With a skeletal hand.
I'm waving goodbye.
(c)Livvi
Repost
Next page