A churchyard of sinners, cooks on low heat.
Maybe determined to meet, the man who in spirit, the one who is meant to be kind, but accidentally crept out of his mind.
So, what do they seek?
A stroke of inspiration, wielding passion, attached to the end of a sword.
The sword being the spoken word, pronounced at high volume,but always ignored, a cry for help,  sadly unheard.
Playing games in decibels of rackets, maybe a slight squash, a candy crush.
This thing's getting tricky, it's terribly sticky.
When the mallet of croquet, bashes in nails, as coffins are sealed.
Before the funeral bell, plays its one tone soliloquy.
While waiting for ground to be fed.
As in silence, he, bids "goodbye", to  his friends.
How dare he, he who had the audacity to go and die.
By his own fair hand, so very unfair.
(C) LIVVI

Off to the shop at the top of the road, to spend a lot of money, that I know I ain't got.
Need to get myself some sweeties,  provide me with a toothless grin.
Can't think what else I need to buy, maybe just,  maybe a little slice of humble pie.

Swept up in a sea of nets, discarded, flapping, drowning in air.
Waiting to be landed, dashed upon the dock, waiting to be dressed and dished, fed up, on the menu to fill the mouths of men.
Makes me think before I eat, how it must feel, to be a captured fish.
I don't know how long it takes them to expire.
Think it must must dreadful, to be a fish, captured in a trawlers net.
With thousands of wriggling soul mates, and perhaps the cod father too, not many left, only a few.
Morals aside, I'm afraid, I love their taste.
(C) LIVVI

In a degree from a travelling tree, stands a tree of knowledge.
Created from minds of many, descriptions and paradigms, from the brains of men.
The sacrificial tree yields her wares, so the learners can learn.
Children in classes of  mischievous masses,the old women who struggle to read through thick glasses.
The joy of the word, is spread by the tongues, of many in difference, all over the world ,their joy exported a passport of paper.
With open borders, travel allowed,  take it for granted, the world.
Now it's a smaller place.
The crumpled up newspaper left on the chair, made of paper,keeps us aware.
Trials and tribulations, all duly noted, discarded and dumped, hopefully in the recycling bin.
LIVVI 2014

Crispy morning, a chill of ears.
Grass crunches under foot.
Stairs to the train with it's lacking effect, non-slip grip.
A hurry, a stumble, nearly a tumble.
In a scramble, to hurry to work.

Naked branches scurrying, next to the track.
All loaded with nests of frozen birds, clinging on to their clutch.
After the pain of the wind and the rain,  expectantly waiting for springtime to visit again.
This morning delight, world slightly white, sunshine's radiance purely reflective.
Averting the eyes of those on the train, where sunlight, so bright caused visual pain, but no-one complained, and the sunshine remained.

Here,the world wakes.
Net veil of darkness lifting.
The ****** disguise of the new morning,as this fresh day's slowly revealed.
In a few moments, my world of peaceful silence breaks, brightness insults still drowsy eyes,as light rushes in a rapid blast.
An explosion of blue sky erupts, just hanging innocently in the atmosphere here.
Waiting to discover today.

There, darkness falls.
Sleep lands, yesterdays innocence, now corrupted.
Rest will repair in sleep and dreams will flood with images of maybe what's to come.
Now for you to sleep, me to work, enjoy what ever you do, for the this day may be your last!
(C) LIVVI

Grasp of a constrictor, not a Boa of pink and blazing purple feathers.
As loneliness entraps her wretched body.
Her fangs, though aged and brittle inflict an evil bite, should you **** the lady off?
Slender and tactile, the lady, she's a gentle one, until you touch her wrong.
He did, her mirror shattered, smithereens of once frantic broken love, became a long lost dream.
Once was sharing and caring, altruistic to  the very last, but then the last one came along, destroyed her with his  nuclear blast.
Left remnants of her personality, caught, stuck fast on his electric fence.
Maybe discarding rubber soles, may complete the job, but  she's not that stupid and he's just a ****!

Something's missing?
The typical British local pub, place to sit and sup a jar.
With regular hours and vases of flowers, all stood in a porcelain jar.
Glazed white, with shiny guilt edges, as Mr tells missus.
Will be home soon love, just having a pint with the lads.
Lady of the land, provides a welcoming smile.
Bright red lipstick and leopard print jeggings.
Once stopped by for conversation, sadly missing now.
A lonely snug corner to hide in, or a quiet place to rest and converse.
Somewhere to sit, snacking on crisps, in packets of foil, remarkable colours, contents clandestine.
A revelation, only when you pop  that packet.
Me, I'm not a drinker, just a mere deep thinker.
Now, all we have are places of disgrace, that open up early to sit and consume from breakfast till noon.
Filled with drinkers full of  issues, just past dawn until the twilight night-jars sing.
Early morning beer as a means of escape.
Not one ounce of culture, just scavengers, guys and gals just killing time. Mainly smoking ifs and butts, in smoking areas, with missing teeth and lacking joy.
All in a days work, I guess.
(C) LIVVI

A haze of yesterdays returned, a slap slung round her face, as she spun.
Standing high upon a top, deep in thought, thinking amends all made.
A dizziness of misconception, remembered as an always error.
Spots of  mentioned misdemeanours.
Forgiven not, so sadly, by  the mother who treated them so badly?
She cries and tries and tries some more.
In a mirage of Chinese whispers, hiding behind truths, spread as margarine between the chain gang of a family.
Words between them are uttered shared, mainly muttered under breath.
The sinner; the mother, she so wants to stitch the damage up.
She is the mother wants to make friends.
The daughter, well she fires vile insults at the mother who cares, not prepared to bow in forgiveness of the missing respect, maybe they could have shared.
(c) LIVVI

To walk on water could there only ever be one?
Was it not Gods only son, who strolled in Galilee, with the fishers on the sea?
It has been disputed that another fella, name of Blaine, gentle strolled upon the river of grime, a.k.a the River Thames.
Obvious illusion, well at least that's what I'm guessing.
Now however; a change in  the weather, provided squelching mud cover, engorged the fields of mud with water.
Mud supports those who walk, in squishy, squashy welly boots, fighting through, unholy mud.
Hereby, I now pronounce out loud, more than Jesus, an entire crowd.
(C) LIVVI 2014

Behold. the truth, such pure joy.
Surveyed the world at the first light.
New life arose.
All glory, my tree, she blossoms again, perhaps mother nature changed direction.
Bought us, her world, a present of spring.
(c) LIVVI 2014

Violence grabbed me, pushed me around, assaulted my ears.
You made me crazy.
Staggered up in a blind rage.
Decided to put an end, to this vile situation.
Left it intensive care, the ****** alarm that got in my hair.
Terminated its existence, for a little while.
Gave it a shock of CPR, I charged it up again.
Tomorrow, cosset it I shall.
For it will be my day off and a good rest one and all!
(C) LIVVI X

My most beautiful friend "Effy" just retired.
She was cute and oh so beautiful.
Been my friend of the very best type.
Travelled the country, close by side.
Seen something's, her eyes open wide.
Seen angels kiss me on the lips.
There all stored deep in her memory.
My friend "Effy", Now I lay you to rest dear friend.
Probably meet up now and then, spend a little time together.
Reminisce over what we miss.
You "Effy" will always have a spot in my heart x

Went swimming in the garden, thought I'd like a little fun.
Now that winter rain has just gone,  thought I'd ****** a glimpse of sun.
Had a wonderful allure, looked at water, sparkling rippling beauty.
Really was a tease, for I don't have a pool, my garden just a flooded sewer!
(C) LIVVI X

An illumination of wrinkles, pasted, splurged and multi-coloured.
Creeping out,from under the light at the end of the lane.
Filling the cracks of yesterday, left swollen with visible concrete.
Furrows brim within a mask of lies, in a covenant.
Hereby designed, disguising, only the flying of time.
Your face is still beautiful, your eyes still  to drown in ,so lovely.
A well of experience framed in an attitude, once drowned by buckets of tears.
(C) LIVVI

Time sprouted wings.
It flew away again.
Faster than Concorde on a dash, very noisily,  one quick breath,it's gone in a flash.
As indeed is life.
If you snatched it again, would you have the same wife?
Or husband perse.
Wish that it could be turned back, maybe so life could be reviewed?
Same old mistakes made again?
Who ever knows.
If we had our time again, would we  want to change a thing?
(C) LIVVI 2014

Watching t.v.
I start to cry.
My beautiful dog looks deep into my eyes.
She seems to be sensing my feelings.
Catching my emotions.
As if, she read my mind.
Never seen her move so fast.
I guess her love is meant to last.
She cured my tears with a snuggle.
Livvi x

Two green eyes look at me.
Cowering underneath the street light.
Starlight twinkles,reflecting.
She can barely, see the rest of the beast.
That shadow dweller hiding.
Only the eyes give the game away.
One empowering screech and out she dashes.
Quicker than a lightening flash.
She caught a waft of his horrible spray.
Decides, she wants to run away.
Tom, he's so unpleasant treats her with no respect.
He has a hundred kittens now, that Tom cat he has no regrets.
Player for all the ladies on the block.
They're all pretty *******, he's just a ***** tom cat ****!

There he lay, snuggled only by a puddle of discomfort.
Held in impropriety, drowned in drink, not really drunk.
Chap without even a comely smile.
His lights are on, but there's nobody home.
Watching seconds, as they drift, finding meaning in minutes as they zoom past.
Wondering if his next breath is his last.
Struggling a last **** on his stale cigarette.
Gap between fingers two and three wrapped in toxic nicotine.
Burberry flat cap, left open at his right hand, fishing for coins as they pass.

Night falls again.
Tugs himself up, discarding his ****.
Brushes self off.
Third time this week he weren't moved on.
Nodded acknowledgement to passing old bill, as he wanders, towards home at the top of the hill.
(C) Livvi x 2014

At the sound of seven bells,  the cobwebs clear.
Smell the bed, no it's not smelly.
It carries the warmth of the lovers departure.
Bed for today, has lost it's allure.
Another lovely day has dawned, for today alone she's dressed in sun.

The morning smells.
Bacon sizzling in the pan, prepared by ladies loyal man.
Oh so the lady dreams
Eggs ******* in to the fire.
Ready for a spot of flipping, after all, today is sunny side up.

She, that lady,staggers in a dream of just left sleep, shoves the kettle on.
Grabs her mug, cos it's yesterdays tomorrow.
Pours her coffee, made by fair hand filled with lonely sorrow.
Actually, another note on which to end.
The lady likes not bacon, but scrambled egg's another dream.
(c) LIVVI 07,42, 16/02/2014

Dare me not to say I love you.
Dare me to, I know you'll try.
My blood flows colder than the seas.
Waters that engulfed Titanic, seriously warmer than me!
All I seek is friendship.
From comrades and like minded friends.
This sour heart wants no home.
It's had as much as it can take.
Became brittle.
Wants not to  risk another break.
Lost my heart, but not my soul.
Just a little while ago.
Blue blood of royalty is not mine, but  my blood of ice, still pumps just fine and always will be free.
Please be my friend but, don't want me.
(c)Livvi x 2014

Insatiable (Adult Piece)


Drop to my knees.
My mouth in need of feeding.
At first tenderly.
Softly.
I lick you with tongue of soft lace.
Trembling feelings.
Sparkling in the morning sunlight!
My mouth is warm, with newly consumed coffee from my all consuming loving cup!
The coffee enhances your rapture.
My chasm of joy.
Wraps you in the throes of heaven's ecstasy!
You cry kinda discreetly.
You want no one to hear me giving you pleasure.
I ****, my tongue deeply inserted!
Luscious lips impetuous trying hard to satisfy!
You need what I need, to feel vibrant.
Alive once more.
The sun hits the sky.
Your body ablaze .
You hold on till the last second, before explosion from the life giving lava erupts.
I swallow, you rest.
Relieved at last!
Copyright Livvi Kent 28/03/2013
By ladylivvi1

What makes me quiver and shake going down?
A total delight, a slightly salty shiver.
Always makes me warm inside.
Have to go and find some, lap it up, with glee.
Lovely and hot, it just has to be.
The gorgeous thrill I’m reporting on is?
Steaming hot.
Mushroom soup for me tea!
(C) LIVVI MARCH 2013

Melting letters.
As into the screen they mould.
My fuzzy eyes, they totally lose control.
Fight to the sink to get a fresh drink.
To swallow my pill.
Child-proof cap on the bottle.
Pills are ****** **** or cure.
Tingling fingers make it a trial.
Trial of a million witches.
Tortured for longer if I can't open that bottle.
If only I can get that pill.
Ergotamine, my drug, it spells a spot of witchery.
If I can get to it in time.
Without it I die.
Very much like a stroke, that ***** me.
Excuse the expletives, Christ they're needed.
Lose the ability to speak.
The brain still functions, the body's wrecked.
Eyes flash more.
Crashed into the unit doors.
Embarrassing,if I have patients to attend to.
My tongue feels like it's grown three times over.
Need to write a note to boss, to say I need to leave.
Strange really, I can think perfectly, but expression's verbally deranged.
I could run needles into my fingertips, where once living tissues died, I would be none the wiser.
Of course I could not find those finger-tips, just have to aim and guess.
Well for a moment or few.
At least until in safety, sleep safely captures me and revives me after many hours.
Think there must be a little man lurking in my brain, for after hours of sleeping off, I get  an evil head.
Relief at last the day, after last day left.
A parting gift from the migraine man, a hellish head all full of fluff!
No more headache,  today mere malfunctioning abilities!

The ancient church of St James.
Lead-edged windows, each portion given stained glass faces.
Sunlight rippled on those faces, each face a tale to tell.
Sheltered from the elements, donated from above.
Safety under a covered roof of green lichen.
The bell tower shouted its cheerful peals.
Bridegroom proud. Standing in regimented battle regalia.
Epaulettes almost glowing with excitement.
Matching his shiny shoes.
As he waited for his bride that day.
To make his life complete.
He knew for now, deep in his heart.
That very soon he would depart.
Church bells rang,  excitedly, as if missing every second beat.
His heart was missing more.
Glances up.
Between the external aisle, the now laying; no longer living, brothers under standing stones.
A picture of pure innocence in her ivory wedding gown.
Promenading through the church yard to catch her wanted man.
Escorted proudly by him, by the father of the bride.
Into the church they drifted upon ethereal glow.
The vicar bade them welcome.
After hymns and prayers of three.
Holy man he gave his blessings.
Pronounced them man and wife.
As the following morning sun she rose, forbade the joys of married life.
He wanted not to wake his bride.
He left  just a bunch of flowers, mauve and blue, forget me nots.
In his heart he hoped he'd see her soon.
Before the wake of summer's moon.
For off to war he went.
Both knew he had to go.
Proud man departed for war, with rivers of silent eyes.

(C) LIVVI

Off she went chasing whims.
She could see those devious fellows.
Dashing past, flashing by in front of her.
Catching them was near impossible.
When she nearly caught them.
Her ****** they would evade again
****** silly creatures, thereby took their leave.
What were those silly  whimsical creatures, that she so desperately chased?
The tissues that fell out of her sleeve.
Took off her sweater, they tumbled out.
They got grabbed by the breeze.
Did not want to spread her germs.
From those whimsical tissues, running free, caught on breezes of sneezes.
(C) LIVVI 2014

***-po said the funny sun, as it hid behind the tree.
Kerb stones took the mickey, they said they needed cleaning.
Patio so pretentious dared, dared to be dream of being used.
Awaiting very desperately, the bringing of the springtime sun.
Well, they've had a **** good scrub.
Garden was in so much pain, drowning in this flaming rain.
The sun has got it jacket on, no water to extinguish it and take its smile away.
****** weather!
(C) LIVVI

Mother nature's playing games.
She's making such a mess.
Was so shocked indeed to see, my journey home beat by a tree.
Fingers nipped by unfair air.
Trees so cold,they're naked, stripped clean by the breeze.
All around is really clean, bathed with acid rain.
She made a big announcement during day at work.
Spoke out  loud with voice so proud.
Ladies and gents it's "sunning".
Made a change from announcing, another dash of further rain.
Lasted two whole minutes, then came much more stress.
As rain came again, made a holy mess.
(c) LIVVI

Went and jumped upon a plane, so I could leave this sodden rain.
Left this soggy chilly thrill.
Found myself in Africa.
Suddenly got really warm, being chased by a wild lion, fancied me for tea.
Thought I'd jump another plane, as  that lion set me free.
Found myself in Australia,  where I landed in the sea.
Great white beast with mega teeth made me fly away.
Faster than a rocket could, at the speed of light.
Wasn't sure where to go next, scratched my head and had a think.
Landed in rain forest, it was heavily atmospheric.
Howler monkeys and all their racket, drove me flaming nuts.
Thought out very long and loud, to try to beat their noise.
Leaped back on my aeroplane.
Cruised off through sunny skies.
Back to the English land of drink.
England has it's benefits, or at least that's what they say!
(C) LIVVI

THE TROUBLE WITH TIGHTS

The trouble with tights, they dangle.
They’re very annoying at times.
When around your ankles they slip.
Snag them on the garden gate.
When on the way to work, they rip.
Just as you’re in a mega dash.
They really are such irksome things.
Tights are laddered, cash all gone.
Still need to carry on.
Of course, they have their other uses.
Will fix a broken fan-belt well.
Maybe a robber of the money institution, will find them a lovely disguise.
The only bank robber ever caught.
In possession of a pair of long nylon ears.


Stockings are much sexier.
Lovely soft and silky.
For whenever you are feeling *****.
Who ever heard of wearing tights, beneath their wedding dress?
Wear them for a date.
When pretty woman goes out hunting.
Just to find her perfect mate.
Surely, stockings must merit the order of the garter

ODE TO BEING A BUNNY GIRL

Was born in 1963.
Chinese year of the rabbit.
Perhaps their horoscopes are right.
That old adage of breeding like rabbits.
In my case whole-heartedly true.

Maybe being a mouse, could be a little better.
Breed as much as rabbits do.
Tendency to live indoors.
A warmer abode.
Than living down a rabbit hole.
No household bills if you’re a mouse.

Me, the lady of the house.
Wants no contact with a house mouse.
Called out the team of pest control.
Poet lady real cold, wants a mouse eviction.
Mice still running round the house.
Causing family friction.

Doris bought herself a bike when she were 93.
Thought a trip to John 'O'Groats, would keep her flying free.
Started off at Lands End, from there on she did wobble.
Rode past the tanker.  
****** driver,what a ******.
He nearly knocked her off.
She noted down his registration number.
Took it to the cop shop.
Wasn't feeling very happy, poor old darling needs a *****.

Got back on her bike, to resume her hike.
The raindrops poured and granny snored.
Had a kip while on her bike, maybe Granny needed a trike.
Got as far as the corner shop.
She fancied a little nibble.
Noticed it was getting dark.
She checked out the sky.
Decided cycling was too hard work.
So off she went.
Decided to fly.
Grabbed her broomstick from the hallway.
Off she flew, up, up and away.
Wahey Doris.
Witch granny on an away-day.
(C)LIVVI 2014

FRENCH KISSING ON VENUS(A little nonsense )
Just coming to life.
Was up til three.
Playing silly sods.
Hopped into my baby son's spaceship.
Found myself on Venus.
Don't know how I got there.
Maybe I was seeking love.
Venus has a purpose, in matters of such trivia.
In the silly world of love.

Met a few Venusian chaps.
Funny things they were.
Their hands were wandering everywhere.
Too many of them you know.
Far too many hands that is.
One went in for a French kiss.
Guys from Venus like to kiss.
His tongue was very very long, with it my tonsils tickled.

Irksome tongue, it made me choke.
Ipso facto,  that mega tongue, made me rather sick.
That rampant guy from Venus,  well he ripped of all my clothes.
Used them as a hand kerchief, on which he wiped his runny nose.
Somehow.
Method as yet unknown.
Landed outside my front door.
What a shock that was.
For my poor unfortunate neighbours.
Who saw all my naked bits.
A weird situation,  created by a kiss.

Spitting fire from my tongue.
The contents of my mind upset.
I ***** in sulphuric rage.
It's burning in my chest
So many things of vile sickness, seen before my broken eyes.

I'm angry cos you loved me.
More angry cos you left.
Inside a silken coffin.
My heart and soul you cleft.
Was a year ago on the 11th.
You know, the day that we first met.
When spattering of snow left me cold outside.
Lost in London.
A fair city.
That fair city, cried pity.
For just a while.
All was pretty.
Now my love is vomited all across this page.
I no longer love you.
My heart, my pen, my belly purged.


By ladylivvi1

© 2014 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

The caber, still decked in leaves, tossing wildly.
Fighting against the morning wind.
A house cracked up inside herself.
Creaks, it's fighting to stand strong.
Stood with pride in fortitude before the war began.
Know not if it can take much more.
Poor old house is getting sore.

The wind no longer whistles.
It sings a high pitched aria.
Wind today, so talented, it can even lift the sea.
It's brawn will knock whole walls down, should they not be fortified.
Dimunitive Dawlish.
A little town decimated by stormy wind and fiery rain, but that's for another story.
The English storms in all their glory.
(C) LIVVI

Long days toil over.
A swarm of moans of groans.
As the 17:44 was cancelled abruptly.
The sky was crying yet again.
Transport ground to a halt.
Train ran over a broken heart.
Attached to greatly ruptured being.
Fragments of fractured bone, ground into powder.
Evening commuters trek, ground to a halt.
Transport held to ransom by suicidal jurisdiction.
As the train ground the bones of the deliberate victim.
(C) LIVVI

Swear that today a struggling, dripping bluebell was trying to pull itself from my sodden garden.
Could almost hear it crying out, maybe gasping for breath or struggling to reach the light.
Praying not for a landslip, to bury it before it's birth, the showing of it's dainty face not withheld.
You see, I live at the top of a *****, where water runs back to the sea.
So you see my home's secure it can't catch me.
Hold hope close at heart, that soon their bells of blue will ring.
Welcoming the spring.
(c) LIVVI x

Glug.
Who on earth pulled out the plug?
The sky is drained, yet again.
Think I'll grab a towel.
Dance around the garden.
Dressed in nothing, except that rain.
Saving on the water bill.
Bathing in the icy rain.
Maybe for a chilly thrill.
Bits all frozen out of use.
****** bath in rains' abuse!

Fear needing an aqua-lung to swim off to the shop.
Wonder if this rain will stop.
Kissing's out of the question.
With lips too sore to mention.
They got licked by kissing wind.
This weather is cheesing me off.
Hope the rain and wind will stop!
(C) Livvi 2014

Paper friend.
You flew away on the breeze.
Once that scribe, wrote loving words.
Deep into flaking bark.
Bark stripped off in preparation.
For serious pulping.

For silent he became.
Once was awesome.
When on the grass, we laid and held.
Where, so tenderly curled in luxury.
Needing nothing, no other than the other one.
Beneath primeval oak.
As a pair of skylarks, we played in the park.
Spirits of trees, dissected and pulped.
Re-modelled, created as love letters.
Perhaps, maybe a book.
Or maybe made a plane of paper, just so you could fly away.

By ladylivvi1
© 2014 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Watch your eyes guys.
Eyes despise them.
Hit a raw nerve as they cross the path.
Tried to run off to work in a hurry.
In front of me they block the path.
One grand upwards blast chucks them inside out!
People with umbrellas, really make me cross.
More wild than the rain and wild wind themselves.
(c) Livvi 2014

"Jesus", it's July.
The sky is pouring chilly tears.
The green grass is got lost.
Not dry and crisp underfoot.
Melting not with sweating souls.
Finger tips are roasting blue.
Planet Earth has gone askew.
There seems to be snow.
On the beautiful lady's  apparent summer beach.
"Jesus", it's July!

HOPE

Break free from the mirror of reflection.
Keep not restrained a heart in chains.
Canvas of memories painted on glass.
Pray not that glass of crystal.
Be so fragile, should it shatter.
Dissolve sadly into dust.

Dust from interrupted glass.
Now reincarnated into glass anew.
Blown from the sands of time.
Carried on the breeze.
Leave the lover of life.
Nevermore terrible luck.

Fight to loose ruinous recollection.
Break away, breach the storm with no devastation.
Let once reflected love become a fragile dancer.
Sweeping away the confetti of lost love.
Reflected in past tense.
By ladylivvi1

© 2014 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

In your shadow I sit thinking of times long past.
Thinking of sparkling Catherine wheels, on a guy Fawkes night long ago.
Thinking about true love in hot sands, under our feet between our toes, blistering summer days.
That's how it goes.
Warm water trivially trickling beside us as we played.
Thinking about the time on the hill.
When we sled down on a rickety sledge, when you fell off landed straight in the hedge.
Thinking about cold chill when you left.
Felt bereft, neglected, dejected, rejected.
What more can I say, except the fact that in my mind you never lived anyway!
(c)LIVVI 2013

You teach me with a heart of gold.
A gentle persuasion.
That indeed I am able.
Salvaged what I thought was lost.
Friendship is a gift of truth.
No vile tongue, nor be uncouth.
You teach me well.
Grasshopper.
With much respect for you I bow.
Sweet one, I'm not sweetness.
I'm just a holy cow.
Never will I be with you.
Never will I see you.
From a pile of rubble.
My being reconstructed.
For that my friend.
I thank you very much.
(C) LIVVI

Take your lilies.
Discard them.
Throw them in death's deepest bin.
Instead bring me roses.
Violently dressed in raging red.
Violent not in physical way.
In violence as in passions play.

Can't afford red roses?
Make me tissue ones.
Break to bits an  old coat hanger, with a pair of metal clippers.
Over which you must mould the form of petals.
Created out of tissue.
To ripple in the breeze.
Never again my darling will you bring me to my knees!
Tissue paper flowers will never make me sneeze.
But should they  maybe make me cry.
The floral tissues deconstructed could wipe my sodden eyes!
(C) LIVVI

That Matriarch .
Supports her brood.
Provides them with food.
Disciples bow in her honour.
A Sergeant major on patrol.
She is, is she?
They are more in charge these days.

You must do that, you must do this.
You should do that.
Discipline feeds them with a mantra.
To run a life of strength.
In ivory towers.
In glorious pastures bathed with flowers.
Behave yourself.
Do as you're told.
Do as you would be done by.

T'will make you good as gold.
Rather than that discipline running permanently.
Teach them lovingly.
Give them kisses.
A listening ear.
Provide them with love abundant.
Keep them safe and giggle with them.
Maybe laugh at them, as they laugh loud at you.
This funny old female.
With greying hair.
Much too late to start to care.

On Monday he married her,
On Tuesday he thumped her,
On Wednesday he wanted her more so he apologised,
On Thursday she trusted him not punch her again.
On Friday she was truly ******, he gave her lots more pain.
On Saturday they shared love's bed.
On Sunday seers truth obliged, for on Sunday, he her slew.
(c) Livvi

Loved him til last breath was done.
Loved as dainty filigree.
Thy love was so attractive.
But, was not meant to be.
Tragically, a crystal glass was he.
His glass of crystal weighty.
Sadly, made of lead.
Weighed heavy on his troubled mind
Led him down the back roads.
Where painted stripes walk on sidewalks.
Coloured  in such misery.
Goodness he was so precious.
Needed setting free.
To roam the realm of heartache.
Elsewhere,  this lonely fellow says he's chilled.
Chilled he's not.
With gentle heart so sore from pain.
Needs to build ability to love once again.

Discretion of predators, out to feast.
On vulnerability.
Vicious vultures from the deepest darkest depths.
Seen not until the surface breached.
Now and then, they'll take their own with sophistication.
Pursuing afflicted bed fellows.
Victorious villains violate base of silence.

Silence broken.
Hover around.
Desperate moments cry.
At refusal to oblige.
Voices wail.
Sometimes with razor tongues.
Breaking sonic boom, slight exaggeration.
They watch eagle eyed, as the finance provider frankly opens her purse.
And they say mum, ' have you got any spare change I can scavenge'
Off into the land of life they go at another's expense.


By ladylivvi1

© 2014 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Bomb shelter shrugs off destructive blast.
Love is in denial at last.
A fracture spiral.
Caused pain.
Mended with pins and plates.
Strengthened a joint.
A joint once busted.
With no icing sugar dusted.
(C) LIVVI  2014