For I must go and wash my floor.
Ignore the phone.
Don't hear the the door.

Wipe away.
Yesterday's greasy dirge.
Mopped up in a tick.
Purge memories.
Of yesterday spilled.

Wash **** away in an instant.
The ***** washing up in the sink.
It made me halt.
Stop dead in my tracks and think.
And think again.

What 's the purpose of being here.
For the sake of those I hold so dear.
A cleaner and a bottle washer.
Not a cook,
So I shan't bother.
Eating out.
Modern thing to do.

So at lunchtime I shall go to the pub.
To have a roast dinner.
Such super grub.
Super grub with no bugs to bear.
I'm not washing up.
So I don't care!



By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Under The Bed!

Where shadows creep.
Nightmares lurk.
A child cries.
Fear not dispelled.
Sandman will not venture here.
For he too.
Is filled with fear.
In the secret land under the bunk.
A trunk.
What nastiness concealed therein.
If you're brave enough to move it.
Below it is a hole.

The hole descends deeper and deeper.
At the base of the hole.
Lives the Grim Reaper.
What could be unleashed.

Better put it back quick.
He won't miss a trick.
To put pay to all life on this magic planet.
That would give him such fun.

Should shove it back.
It is very heavy.
The trunk made of wood.
Padlock in situ.
Wrought iron in black.
With eerie designs engraved with strange runes.
Decipher the code.
You can't understand.
Perhaps they said 'leave well alone'.

Being a hero, an intrepid explorer.
Decided he wouldn't be able.
Dragged it out left it by the old table.
No desire to open the box.
Got his caving gear out.
Searchlight on a miner's cap.

Down he went,
Down down down.
Was dark and damp smelled of mould.

Rustling in the ether.
A sound he heard.
Fear set in.
Adrenaline rush.
Rushed faster than he.
Scrambled up the side out of the pit.
A lucky escape I am sure.

Dragged the chest back under the bed.
Shaking he fled back out through the door.
Surveyed the situation.
All was quiet.
Crept back into bed.

Covers over his ears.
Still shaking a little.
Never had a dream as thus.
What it is to be brave in dreams!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Night fell silent.
The sky illuminated by a star of glory.
Showing the world which way to go.
A present for the future.
Child of honesty truth and love.
Laid blessed.
Silent.
In a tinsel covered sparkly cradle.

Started their trek to Bethlehem.
Found themselves in turkey.
Those wise men.
Well they were made of sage.
And onion.

'Fraid the lovely Mary.
In this modern version.
Was not quite a ******.
In the Christian way.
The Christmas story the ******.
Mary stood in an intact state of glory.
Proud of her gift to the world.

Honest Jo, was honest always.
Presents stashed below the tree.
The shepherds had their sheep dogs.
By hook or by crook.
They have their place of joy.
Within the Christian holy book.

Now,
Santa Claus,he gets a mention.
The mother of all fairy tales.
A jolly ** ** ** invention.
The only bells ringing out.
Are the peals of checkout beeps.
While.
The children of once modern day virgins do weep.
For the cost of living life nowadays.
Is oh so very steep.

Stand beside the story teller.
Carol,
She sung out of tune.
Underneath the Christmas moon.




By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

For a few short months the in-vitro whale  swam.
Watched and felt from a distance.
He is her newborn, Moby **** broke free.
Left behind only bravery stripes and a little blubber.
Sometimes, more than blubber, wailing extremely.
Telling mummy, he's hungry.
(c) Livvi

God Awful Row!

The night sky.
Illuminated bright, almost daylight at nine.
Restful feel hovers in the air.
Until the moment when Apollo arrived.
Delivered his prophecy.
Peace may reign the Earth again.
A lunatic smiles.
Grinning,
Who are you trying to kid.
Chuckling raucously.
The huntress arrives.
Diana chases Apollo through sky at night.
God and Goddess hitting the heavens.
Having a family spat.
About the state of planet Earth.
Diana being Artemis.
The sister of Apollo.
United they threw the lunatic back to Earth.
To cause chaos once again.
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Topics Two!

Of milkshakes and muppets.
And tragedy puppets.

Of flowers and showers.
And wiled away hours.

Of words of cruel tongues.
Obscuring our sons.

Of beer and fear.
And crazy rein deer.

Of Christmas gifts.
And crazy rifts.

Usually start at Christmas time.
Christmas spirits or maybe wine.

Of kings and queens.
And stupid scenes.

In Shakespear to endear.
Of drama.

And armour.
The knight's kitted out.


Of nightmares and scares.
And one who cares.

But noticed never not!
Of fears and tears.

And dogs and cats.
Wearing floppy hats.

Of nature.
And bees

And maturities kisses.
We hope no-one misses our words.

Always read.
Occasionally heard!

We pen another scatty ditty.
Because we live in fantasy.
A world of Walter Mitty!

That's a poet 's point of view.
Penned on here.
Just for you!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

I plucked a tiny flower from the verge at the side of the lane.
It was so delicate.
It looked so lonely, sitting there all alone.
I stuck it under the edge of my collar.
Attached alongside my remembrance day poppy.
I heard the hooves of the the day bays horses's shoes clicking and clacking into the morning.
I witnessed the lone rider, hair in a net ******* under her hat.
I smelled the exceptional air.
No vehicles passed through this place.
So very quiet.
The field laid upon the left hand side looked so inviting.
Maybe I'd walk over it on my way back home.

Got back into my house.
Reviewed my flowers.
The bright red memorial.
It poppy triggered more emotion than the tiny roadside treat.
I pressed my little roadside flower in the middle of a poetry book.
Between the pages laced with guilt,  I stole it's life away.
My tiny paper poppy will fall into the bin.
Next year, a  beautiful fresh one will be reborn of pure love.
Acknowledge the soldiers, acknowledge the flowers.
(C) Livvi

Take my coffee with sugar, teaspoon and a bit.
Have tea with no sugar at all, cos I'm a funny *****.
Don't eat very often,although I love my food.
Work  much too much.
Must be cos I love it.

Live in dress of royalish blue.
Which comes off as I hit my bed
Enjoying life only way that I know how.
With my pen in hand.
Me,myself and I are very rarely rude.
My persona unraveled, so now you read me ****.
(c) Livvi

The princess isn't really dark.
The light bulb it exploded.
Left  the poetic princess ,
with nothing but a spark.
The princess, she loves nature,
Flowers and fresh air,
Somehow that sister's twisted when she doesn't need to be.
Ahead the road is widening as she's heading to the light.
Walking slowly in autumn,
Seeking fresh daylight.
As the autumn brings with it winter chills,
The setting sun will fall,
From winter hanging icicles,
New snowdrops peep through the chilly crunchy grass.
The heart no longer breaking as crystal shining glass.
Perpetual changing moments, she is a jewel in one mans crown.
Her beauty sparkles wholly a fizz of lemonade.
With kisses soft as summer fudge,
Strawberry cheesecake and custard ****,
Remember when you next see her,
This pretty lady has a heart.
(c) Livvi

The carers of clock tower.
Dark this morning.
Mornings lights switching on as work motions, the end of night.
Going into the city,
Spying twitching curtains, of forward moving city lights.
Smoke hangs grey in the cold air above the refinery.
An early photographer catches the lights in his lens.
Sadly, a dead fox curled up on the carriageway greeting eternal sleep.
Foxy for one escaped daily drudgery.
Greeted by overnight headlights.
He bade the world a perfect goodnight.
And so my daylight came.
From the night bus, I stepped into day.
From the kerbside my day was done, someone cleared the fox away, his  vulpine body was gone.
(c) Livvi

It's Sunday morning.
There's a crazy chase, it's dashing around the morning homestead.
The son, well not the son of God, although I think, he thinks he is, lays prone across his Sunday bed.
A silent home, so still.
The daughter, my beautiful beast of burden, rests awaiting her fruitful event.
My mucky pup is bundled under my daughter's cosy covers.
As both are a pair of bed lovers.
Puppy, her name is "Blue", reminds me of a bundle of rags.
She moves now and then but, only when her ears detect unfamiliar sound.
No-one can hear the crazy chase, it's just Sunday chasing onward into Monday.
Only the clocks are aware what they pursue, as they storm through the house, quiet as mice; catching only moments and using them up.
And so there went another one!
(C) LIVVI 2014

The boys brigade are out on the lash.
Chucked away buckets of hard earned cash.
The missus she still sits sat home,
Insignificant as garden gnome.
Slides the bevvies.
Down their throats.
Lost somewhere between here and there and John 'O'Groats.
While little Miss Muppet's locked  safe up at home.
(c) Livvi

Her silhouette  danced in the doorways of time.
Alluring him, besotted with his wistful ways.
She played tennis with his passion, as it flew around the room.
Hollow bangs hit decibels, she caused a sonic boom.
He crept into her darkened room and touched her back inside.
The witch woman of magic grabbed him, and on her broomstick together they did fly away.
She was ripened for his kisses, they were twice as nice.
Several days of ripening , ready to be her sacrifice.
(c) Livvi

I am human.
Such a sad state of affairs.
Where in the world of dawning spring, the cuckoo calls and no-one cares.
Or maybe chooses not to hear.
Last year's bulbs are struggling out.
Seeking freedom.
Kingdom come.
Listen really closely, you may hear them shouting.

Death is tragedy in satirical French magazines.
Ice cold death, in local stores.
Offices and dodgy precipices.
Now in superlative support, the whole world screamed.
Praises be.
Four million people truly free.
Vive la France !
(c) Livvi

Why wear a band of gold,
Which signals entrapment,
Had one once before,
Weighed a ton around my neck,
Metaphorically of course,
It's hold was one so powerful weighed me down,
Took my breath away.

Not been dazzled by diamonds and rubies,
Not even blown by pearls,
I seek no earthly riches,
Like many other girls,
Sooner, have a lover I can cherish and adore,
Where we can be together as one,
Living apart for ever more,

In solace of a silver ring upon my finger placed,
Much more significance,
I feel.......,as an honest caring lady,
I am the real deal.

(Oh My Goodness, I don't half write some *******! In one of those moods ! ***)
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Doom empowers,
From darkness finding strength,
Deaths realms look so inviting,
Skips along the chasm edge,
Recklessly, maybe going to fall,
Voices from the molten core cry out,
Edging life's end towards the edge,
For a sheer stroke of thrill,
Ultimate goal to ****,
Perhaps a fall into oblivion,
Can only be obsessed,
Maybe just depressed,
The chasm voices fallen silent,
All can hear the wind,
Calling corrupt,
Tempts innocence to fly awry,
For a shot of reckless fun!


By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

My crisps are potato creations.
My chips are micro, that's for sure.
Cheese and onion, ready salted, good to munch as snacks.
Offer me prawn cocktail crisps.
They make me sick, I'll give them back.
Smokey bacon, boy I'm quaking,
Almost tasting the flavour in anticipation.
From my head down to my toes.
Smokey bacon crisps, tantalise my nose.
They tell me new crisps and fries being created every week.
Cheese on toast crisps.
Well I never,
Roast dinner, sadly missing vegetables.
Holy ghost crisps.
Gone in a puff of eerie green smoke.
Think I'll stick to fries.
Can't do salt and vinegar.
The pong it makes me feel ill.
The taste is even worse.
(c)LIVVI

The Truth of the Matter! (Eye Surgery!)

Sparkling peepers.
Window to the soul.
Something wrong with eyes of green.
Blue or brown.

Got a problem.
Visit your medic man or lady.
Need a little surgery.
Get your pretty peepers fixed.

Go into the clinic room.
Feeling scared.
What will the medic do.
How will it be proceed.

In the gloomy room afraid.
Docs going to scoop your eye out.
Operate with it laying on your cheek.

Have no fear my dear.
It's all pure fantasy.

It is a physical impossibility.
The nerve controlling vision.
Is really much too short.

Indeed your gorgeous eyes of passion.
Can certainly be removed.

In a process that's ' enucleation.'
The actual name for it.
Truth of the matter when eye removed.
Will pop like soggy gel.

By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Precious flower budded.
Pastel pink, with scarlet skirt.
Sat almost in an acorn cup.
Shut tight.
Dressed in waxy coat.
Shrugging off the raindrops, as they splash back.
Exploding from the pool of slush.
Once known as the garden.
Locked up inside new life.
She opens gradually.
Face looking for the springtime sun.
Seeking novel inspiration.
To cheer in new seasons.
Reflective in restoration.

A subtle buzz.
Hums it's own tune.
His pollen sacks bear no heaviness.
He can't bear it.
Look closely.
You can maybe see his tears.
Perhaps he'll starve.
Maybe his hive can't thrive.
Flowers may be once again be kissable.
When winters rain has died.
(C) Livvi 2014

I remember the ink you stuck under my skin.
You loved me you left me, so did it begin.
Your name is tattooed, lying under my skin.

You were the prince of ink.
A cuttlefish they said.
I have your name strung up my arm, but you and I are dead.

You drew pictures of love hearts and flowers.
Added your name,.
I sat in the parlour for hours and hours.
While you, the artist worked.
Weaving magic.
Sadly tragic.
Scars across my open heart.
When we left hand in hand.
The heavens poured their meagre scorn.
Those heart marks wouldn't wash away.
Never in a million would I ever be set free.
A Friday afternoon alcohol session,
My consort was the prince of ink.
He captured my arm, a permanent tag.
Labelled like a superstore, an advertisement upon his bag.
All the world, look where she's been.
Tattooed lady looks obscene.
(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

In a house full of silence, a cavern of whistling sand, a repetition of sonic echoes.
Running through the shiny conch shell of the sleeping eardrums.
A timpani of tinnitus, an obstacle to rest.
Insert a set of headphones, just to help you sleep.
May drown out the pure white noise, as voiceless silence so annoys.
(c) LIVVI

Feelings are a fantasy,
Star studded,
Very stupid game,
Emotions are just power blessed,
Laced with blood and brain.

A rare exotic tiger,
Love,
She hides in long grass ,
As he dances,

On graves of darkness,
Crouches,
Ready to destroy.

She,
That's me,
A beautiful trinket,
Locked in encrusted jewel box,

Not playing for peals of wedding bells weals,
Wedding bells just give me hell,
In a hotchpotch mess of fools desires,

I am your weeping cross,
Laid by the wayside,
Please repent,
Hell,
I'm not begging you.

Weltschmerz,(world weary)
In this whisky bottle world,
Heart pain,
The fantasy in which you hang,
Not a real man,

Just mixed in with life's emotions,
Spilled over,

Stuck in spiders web,
A dream of online lies.
While indecision cries!
A fool I am,
A fool you are!
Adorned with mania's crown,
Wrapped up in satin dress!

By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

A Meeting of Great Minds

First vision of creature strange ,
In chill,
Iced day,
Pillar box nose,
Snow on his lips,

Primordial instincts all cried 'caution'
Loud at first,
Then the bubble burst,
Coffee, my cure all,
Answered natures glory call,
Calmed fears intrepidity,

Felt touch strange about this fellow,
This wicked poet's really mellow,
Swept me off my poets feet,
Jumped the train,
Hit his street,
This is all simplicity,
In truth filled with complexity!

Met a friend,
Encountered lover,
The ultimate one,
I did discover,
In continual writes,
We meet and greet,
Find it hard to be discreet!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

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

Contradiction lies
Career dies
Lifes blasted hyperspace.
Voided rejection
Too tough arsed to mention
Lies of inventions, investigations.
***** flowers die.
They always do.
Fandangles and banners.
Crazy announcements.
Star chasing
Emaciated.
Emancipated.
Free dreaming with schemers.
Salmon wrapped with lemon juice.
Sprinkles loss lime peel feel.
Ambivalent flipping fish with slices.
Switching twisting blowing steam from elevators.
Temporary internet files.
Smiles through shut lips spitting orange pips.
Broken promises made from chamomile,
Silent Sunday mornings, should be for having fun.
Happy fell where sorry left, sorry is never enough.
(c) Livvi

In the gutter she sits.
It's raining again.
The drain is calling to the bobbing twig.
The twig that she snapped from the sapling.

She's so bored,mummy's at work again.
Now she's sitting in the rain.
Ripples at the flow with her cheap laced up shoes.
Her shoes all stained with salty water residue.
Kicking at the water.
She truly is her mother's daughter.
Stubborn to the rotten core.
Mother's job is not too pleasant.
She's a pheasant plucker.
She always works on rainy days.
Her daughter knows not what she does.
Mummy says it won't be long.
You know she needs the money.

She oughts go home.
But she'll still be alone.
The owl in the tree at roadside suggests she finds a towel.
Great notion, but little lassie can't speak owl.

The sky's wide open now.
It's pouring frown.
Releasing it's stress.
Wet shoes, wet skirt.
Sodden hair, soggy vest.
Supposes she really should go home.
Her hair's just a dripping mess.
Soggy tresses.

Time to go home little girl.
Mummy may be worried.
(c) Livvi

Romance once lived in a tragic heart.
Released.
Now she dances.
Only through the catacombs of ancient Rome.
Where Latin lovers once lived.

Love is a larceny.
A tragic crime in time.
Sent to prison.
For crimes not committed by woman.
Nor man.
Insulted by emotions.

Playing games of idiocy.
In idiosyncratic ways.
Left awarded only agony.
Prize for suffering such pain.
Pain not caused by self.
Self trapped.
With eyes wide shut.

Unseeing eyes.
Hiding secrets.
Broken.
Away from the world.
Don't want to love again.

One more love would be a wonder.
Seared by pain.
Won't love again.
Scared to love again and lose.
Unjustly executed.
Believes emotion's dead!




By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

The fire burned in the hearth upon a summer's day, in the land of  blazing abnormality.
The wire haired dog laid silently in his basket, without reaction.
Two other friendly dogs attended, but still he laid.
A silent half giraffe was stroked, he or she, was also still.
Herring gull swung in a cage, motionless and the peacock perched in reticence,  as he was strutted on the cabinet no more.
Half a seal poked its head out from the wall, while the antelope looked on.
And still they sat and chatted, not an eyelid was batted, as they sat and supped their ale, while the air took on the stale scent of musty beings.
The atmosphere in the place was tranquil.
Death, so obvious within this amazing place
Ghastliness of death, was somehow so respectful.
As they gainfully employed the taxidermist, who did a magic job!
(c) Livvi

Who judges sobriety.
The sober and sane.
Who is it that deems lunacy.
The one who doesn't comprehend.
Who is that screams insanity.
The one who believes he possesses humanity.
Who preys on innocence.
The manipulator.
Who feeds fire.
The oxygen supply,
And life itself.

Who gives love.
The one who wants.
Who dines on emotion.
The one who is hungered.
Who ****** conscience.
The problem that needled.
Who matters.
The reader and man's perception

Who cares.
The nobody cares.
Who prays for forgiveness in the darkest of days.
The one who so seeks absolution.
Who receives love.
The one who warrants it.

Who wants loving.
The everyone does.
Who needs another.
Be it as friend, sister or lover.
Who sits on high, surveying.
The condescending one, that looks down their nose.
Who is the shark with a bite of cold steel.
The dealer of death's darkened cards.

Who is the dream that lurks in the fog.
Love is the dream that lurks in the smog.
Who are the ones that you left behind.
You know not who until you are dead.
Who are the ones who play with your mind.

Seek and you shall find.
Are you the one,
The one everyone wants.
You are lost in a blizzard.

You are the one.
The spirit of the lonely age.
You are the one that spits fire enraged.
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Have you seen what hides in shadows, so very very dark.
What is scratching away at the lies.
Leaving but a mere mark.
A flash of light in darkness lies.

What there lurks.
Illuminated only by the stroke of solo firefly.
Maybe just a speck of sparkle.
Lighting just one minute spot
Wants to dance a minuet but, dances all alone.

In advance of dancing goes to play.
Within fields of corrupted virgins.
Who only want their wicked way.

A lovely witch.
Entombed below the freezing  heart of winter moon.
Where winter roses dare not go.
For there will be no more tomorrows.
In pain of all  ex-virgins sorrows.

Upon a shelf was left such love.
Dropped in an acid bath.
To melt.
Watch it fizz.
The poor heart.
Love lurks in last years shroud.
That's what hides in the shadows dark.
(C) Livvi x

Wet Cheeks!

The ab dabs they screamed.
When she was leaving.
Walked out of the door.
Expecting much more.
Crying, dying in river deep.
Believed there would be tomorrow,
Tomorrow came not.
Only past a present.
Unpleasant gift of sorrow.

A million and one candid kisses.
Given away by the fool on the hill.
A legacy not left by free will.
Was not pursuant,
Not breaching the lore.
A total surprise.
In a ****** disguise.
Wait so strong.
For the sun more to rise.

Dying sunrise.
Flickered out.
Lava bubbles, as this witch she cuddled.
Her sorry heart as it sits alone.
She is a free bird.
As free as is he.

Last words uttered'I love you',
He states nearly silently.
' I know you do'.
Used vanishing cream to smooth out his wrinkles.
Disappeared.
Left only tears!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

In syncope she quivers.
Shaken up.
Lost all her fizz.
She's known all along.
All that glitters is not gold.
The silversmith came.
Forged a blade of silver.
For her to slip into her purse.
The blade in shape of crescent moon.

Ripped her heart to shreds too soon.
Wanted to keep it close at hand.
To breach no promises.
Not to demand.
Princess pushy.
Has regrets.
Would have a whole lot less.

If he should answer messages sent.
Then requests would be received.
Wouldn't be pushy.
No pushiness would e'er be shown.
There'd be no need at all.
Ignorance is bliss they say.
If only she had known.
She wouldn't have to moan!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

An echo of the gentle voice of yesterday.
Becomes subtle as a sledgehammer.
Tomorrow smashes the sound barrier as it shatters the clouds of disillusionment.

Last week trapped in cerumen,
Within the sticky ears.
Wax but not candle or bees.
Vibrations ensconced in pretty head.
Voices of the now long dead.

Speech sometimes impediment when the words all come out wrong.
Sweet voices not always the song of birds.
When the voice who needs to speak.
To preach out loud to those unheard.


By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

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.

Vicious Beast!

As a wild tiger.
A rare beast you are.
Claws finely honed.
Sandpaper tongue is sharp.

Struts before me in wild nonchalance.
A black mane of curling tresses.
Underneath aggression's over coat.
There lies a tender ***** cat with tears.

Dripping from those tom cat eyes.
Acid drops taste his face.
As they drop to his lips.
Where he can taste them still.

Hides beneath a masquerade of wickedness.
To conceals all his pain.
Like any ***** cat.
He needs a tender touch.
Gives one in return.
A white tiger.
Near pure.
Unsurpassed!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Wheelers.
Dealers.
Back street concealing.
Double dealing.
Number's up by insane gear.
Killed by fear.
See those tears.
Rolling and falling.
Calling and teasing to those who use.
T.v dealers look ever so neat.
Smart suit.
Tidy hair.
Not like the scruffy skanky fella who deals on the street.
(c)LIVVI

It was getting late.
In a rush the customers flooded.
Desperate to make one last deposit.
Before the bank was shut!

The tellers waited patiently.
For all of them to leave.
Shuffled off in virtual silence to catch the last bus.
They were are rather knackered.
Did not want to fuss.

All feeling rather drained.
Looking rather pale and stressed.
Nearly all dying for a rest.

The bank was shut.
Fridge switched on.
One and one along they come.

Heigh ** (A/O )
Positive,negative.
What's your fix.
Or maybe a cocktail.
I'm sure I can mix.

Said the waiter in black tight tuxedo.
Crisp in white shirt.
I can see him you know.
Behind the bar.
Stood in the corner.
They tell me his name is Jack Warner.

Offers a warning to all the girls.
When running his fingers though their curls!

Gets those bags out.
Filled bursting with claret.
Passes one to the ******* the left.
She smiled fangs bared.
Audacious enough to believe he cared.
The emotionless creep in the immortal sleep.

Waiter turned round and smiled at me.
Fangs glinting in the light.
Obviously only electric.

The vampire bar became a tad hectic.
'Well me darlin', what's your poison'
I smiled real cute with a mischievous grin.
Reciprocal comment came out mighty quick.
Mine's a coke.
I was 'avin a joke,
Don't like them ****** weird folk!

'You ****** vampires make me real sick!'
Left the blood bank.
Like a bat out of hell!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Pray tell, what is this thing called blessed love?
Is it a gift to be cosseted in bright red felt?
A gift to be given from powers above?
Skin all wrapped in floral pelt,
Can we all find it ******* with a smile?
Between us n'er  let love drive a rift,
Only once in a beautiful while,
A present, a total gift,
Giving true pleasure,
Carried upon a waft of joy,
Love given at leisure,
For a beautiful woman, from an angelic boy,
As the tears created, caused their own puddle
Love got lost, she's all in a muddle,

***-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

Anonymous!

Tell me what's her name my friend.
The one who stole your heart away.
Noisy siren, snatched your beautiful heart.
Entrapped in words ideal.
She powered by a pen.
Ignited by war my child.

Sometimes fired from summer sun.
Winter rain.
Hailstones biting.
Causing pain.
Sometimes cruel and vile.
Human love discarded.
Dumped on the pile

Words strung on a harpsichord score.
Lost love has a date with destiny.
Destiny wholly untrue.
Two anonymous writers.
Write day and night.
Sort of seeking recognition.

Potential footsteps lead to perdition.
Hope and pray not.
Their only prey is words.
My soliloquy she cries in solitude.
Solipsist by choice.
In her sophistication!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

In silence we sit.
Staring into each others eyes.
Piercing as rapiers.
Straight through to the other side.
Silently thinking inside our mothball filled heads.
Striking each other, with mental intuition Womanly wiles, coiled as snakes,
Swollen before shedding their skin.
Assassins in silence, diligently plotting next moves.
Coils of passion.
Stilettos fashion.
And you,
You waded into the waters of my mind wearing your bright yellow wellies and little else.
I laughed so much I almost cried.
One argument dispelled.
(c) Livvi

A kiss hits the lips,
As cotton wool cannon ball,
Full power,
Dusting of icing sugar flies in my eyes,
Blinded by sweetness,
Cos love never dies!

Love may become blinded,
Or lost in a mist,
Keep on practising,
You'll soon get the gist,
Believe can evade her,
Never you can,
Because woman is woman,
And you're fickle man,

Not in generalisation,
Love lives in this nation,
She believes like I,
In world *******!

Without love,
There's nothing left!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

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

Who.
Is this being alone and alive.
Not posh.
A usual female.
That she is not.
An idiots' brain,
That she has not .
Just unaware.
Who she is.
Or what she's meant to be.
She finds drunks, skunks and rampant punks.

A few with words in common.
So,
Just where does she fit.
In a world of made up pleasantries.
Generally full of it.
Her real life full of imbeciles.

She is really down to earth.
Dug them up.
Hell she is no snob.
Needs another with a brain.
Not just another flipping ****!

Converges with the low life's.
Making them believe they matter.
Increasing being snooty if needed.
Looking down her snotty nose.
In truth she is the same.

Heavens be praised.
They fell back in the mire.
Where all the dreams fell.
Enough time spent with drunks and skunks.
Don't know where I'm supposed to fit.
Guess no-one knows.
The crux of it.
Hell who gives a f**k!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Growth

From the dying firelight I stand ,
Burning embers fry my feet where I stood!
I stand in your honour,
Proud as love lives!
Life will thrive,
Nourished and nutured,
As natures' own dreams intended!

As crippled soul,
I am restrained,
Without you,
I don't love,
I want no love,
I know no love,
Other than your proviso,

Love could ****,
If I'd let her,
Hell,
I won't she has no holds,
She has no boundaries,
Strength in my honour,

No others have these causal effects,
Nobody could,
Tragic, nonetheless magic,
My claws rip at the tide of flowing love,
Scratching myself on the way!
Life is deathly in dark hallows!
Light will prevail ...no qualms!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
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