GOLDFISH
I had a pair of goldfish,
Neither had a soul, maybe they did,
Spiritual fish possibly?
Aimlessly swimming around thei goldfish bowl.
Every day, day in, day out,
Poor flipping creatures,
They never get out!
If they were fed up, never would they shout.
Last week it seems, the golden chap he became deceased!
A glorious funeral was had by he, he had a final journey, travelling out to sea,
Yesterday his cell mate, the black chap had his last day.
He travelled out to see.
Darling sweetest goldfishes, got funerals they both deserved.
Military honour for brave goldfish.
The black one and the gold one too,
A ceremonial flushing by way of household loo.
One hundred deceased goldfish all standing on parade.
Together flowing through the sewer,
Good night sweet fishes,
Enjoy your journeys to the sea,
Escaped eternal confinement, from depths of goldfish tank.
Enjoy the ever after, ride the tide the two of you,
The water in the solent, probably not too blue.
(C) LIVVI

CAUSE
Syria, the land of sin,
Struggling breath.
Peeling skin.
Born to die upon sad day.
The cruellest beast.
The devil's way.
Sons and daughters caught in blast.
That day they woke, became their last.
Let this ****** madness end.
A world that man may still depend on.
Save us all before it's gone.
(c)LIVVI

In auburn the sun fell.
In crimson she rose again.
As a gift of entrancing love.
My flowers overt, with inverted bells.
An infusion of Lila , green and white.
The spring sprung forth from earth so deep.
Leaving winter doth but weep.
A scene from seasons.
Of row boats and true love.
Of coffee with cream.
Photographs on front covers of many magazines.
Periodicals they speak.
Peace descends amidst those flowers.
Many more hours.
Sun hats and short sleeves.
Mystically weaving.
Gossamer strings,
Such pretty things.
(c)LIVVI

And the crack heads were standing around on the corner.
Eyes hanging on stalks.
As eagles they watch.
The girls walk by with their handbags on arms.
Flashing their smiles and immense lucky charms.
And they chase her down the road, like god awful toads.
Who thinks that they're hot,
I assure you they're not.

Their faces laden with swollen oozing pores.
Result of a good many scores.

One's nose kept on streaming, his throat's really sore,
His head, always believing his feet miss the floor.

As he vomits in the corner, he expects her to care.
She looks straight through him as if he's not there.
Not a care did she give,
All she muttered was "***** you"!
(C)LIVVI

Death stands on the corner, picking pockets of the passers by.
Looking for discard sweets and transport tickets.
He's hungry.
Not collections.
He hasn't had a sweet for years.
He pinches a toffee encased in a cellophane wrapper.
You may just see him standing there, sickle leaned against the goth shop wall.
He is a bit cheesed off.
Begging for help.
Unwrapping it impossible.
Bony metacarpals no use.
All he can do when he opens it, is ****.
The shop staff, all willing to help.
A little scared of death himself.
Looked into his hollow sockets.
Oh F**K
The goths loved death and so it was done.
Death had a toffee,
His wish was won!
(c) LIVVI

The blind man in the corner of the pottery class, moulds his unseen wife between his hands,
He creates a figurine with slender arms.
******* in perfect proportion.
Hips of mature woman.
A bobble nose, with a chin that's dimpled.
Bob shaped hair.
All from the mind's eye.
With assistance, her eye shaped is made, brow line pinched into place.
Formed a skirt down to her feet.
Baked it in the rapid kiln.
For the day of Saint Valentine.
He made for his beautiful wife, the perfect treat.
(C) LIVVI

There is monster.
He lives in my cupboard.
My wardrobe in fact.
He's green with pink and purple spots.
He wears a frilly floppy hat.
Tragic really.
He never speaks to me.
He gives me a sly wink and grin when I open the door.
His eyes are that of saucer size not far away from dinner plates.
Today h
He smiled at me.
His teeth are pearly white.
A couple of canine fangs in fact
Incisors in between.
You know what?
When the sun rises and I go to seek my uniform he's nowhere to be seen.
Left behind,only puddle of neon green.
He's always dressed in green with spots of purple and pink.
It made me think.
Maybe a little presumptive me is believing that he's a he.
When perhaps he's a she.
(C) LIVVI