The hobby horse it bolted,
To him I'm still attached,
Bumping along the gravel track,
My arms are torn to ribbons,
My head is sorely hurt,
Hobby horse was just a game,
Grey corduroy head bowed low,
A matter of respect ,
I'm told,
It's neckerchief of gingham was checked in red and white,
Caught him on a bramble bush as I went flying by,
It poked him smartly in the eye,
Never saw what was going on,
His brain was made of fluff,
His heart was made of solid wood,
He wasn't always very good,
He was a dashing fellow,
His slender body pole,
Painted florescent yellow,
So all could see him coming,
He was just my favourite hobby horse,
Of course!
By ladylivvi1
I don't know if Americans have hobby horses. A horse made out of broom stick with a fabric head and children pretended to ride them!
© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Chances!

Faith in an empty space.
Blazing maybe,
After a perfect kiss.
Loving perhaps.
Given half chances.
After gone issues.
Spent like chocolate pennies,impractical.
In wild romances.
Chances are wishes and kisses are dreams.
Nothing at all is what we perceive.
Chances are odd.
Not even the evens.
Dressed up to the nines, but only find sevens
Where nothing else matches.
When nothing else matters
In the sentiment from the diligent delicacy.
As only women bleed.
****** tears bless face.
Enigmatic smile retained!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

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

Sat here, awaiting the arrival of grandson number four.
The darling daughter rests downstairs, as I wait for the stork to call.
A posing question, is he a Maribou?
Hope he's not a Maribou; for they are carnivores.
Got to hope he isn't hungry, as he lands outside my door.
Think he's just a cartoon character escaped from world of myth.
I'm just taking the pith (with a lisp).
Does he attend with infant in beak, wrapped in a ***** at the end of next week.
I think not!
Hope he doesn't sling him down my chimney, because it's all blocked off.
Can  you ever imagine an infant **** in the chimney ***?
Oops I forgot, how could I ever?
Poor Laura has to do hard labour before her chap is born.
(C) Livvi

Dancing raindrops carried on the wind.
In plies and pirouettes they danced.
Romancing the winter rain and biting wind.
Two of a violent kind...unkind.
Bouncing on a bungee rope unseen by human eye.
Exploding on the slabs of pave.
One wet freezing rave.
Bungee on the whirling winds.
Crystals crying icy raindrops liken to fiery hell they do descend.
Lashing cold legs with scars of cold.
Marking their mesmerizing chill.
The land no-one inhabits by choice.
Only the wind has wailing voice.
That bitter wind.
So full of awesome force!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

I am just a city girl, I'm calling up at city lights.
The daily roar of traffic, unsettling on this chilly Tuesday night.
I am frightened by my shadow, as sunlight comes around.
I ran along the pathway outside my darkened house.
Heard a creature snuffling, perhaps it was a mouse.
Then my lovely carer crept outside the bungalow.
Oh no, my shuffler got trod on.
She thought it was the discarded head of a tatty old brush.
A broom head, chucked out in the gloom.
It was a little hedgehog.
Poor creature creeping around in the dark.
Went indoors.
Found a torch.
The pig of the hedge had gone.
My carer told me she felt guilty.
I said she need not be.
As the hedgehog, scared by heavy feet.
Was up the pathway nibbling meat.
The meat was meant for me.

(c)LIVVI

Scratching pebbles.
Seeing the dog walkers.
Down by the river.
The stalkers?

Hunting for stars.
While playing guitars.
Presentation on violins.
Serenading his lady.
Using his voice.
Pure perfection.
Not his choice.
He's playing at love.
Puppies are adorable, usually.
This dog.
Well,
Only as adorable as a hound from hell.

Seconds and moments.
Mementos and chocolates.
Him, sleeping beneath the trees.
Brow dripping,
salted perspiration.
Wasting away.
Wasting time.
Love playing games.

That was the summer, that was.
When love chased her.
Chased him too.
It chased him away.

And, you rarely hear birds sing in Venice.
They've flown, off chasing love for somebody else.
Clever birds, gave up on us.
(c)Livvi

Venom be spat from the tongue that blinds.
Twixt the lovers.
Whose hearts, no longer entwined.
Words tied and tangled.
Twisted and lost.
Love becomes mangled.
Crumbled to dust.

No words dare be spoken.
The lovers that were.
Invoked the monster of Lady Medusa.
Screeching siren.
Lady's on fire.
Don't dare put her out.

Her eyes surely saved for you.
Muted sounds.
Exploding fear.
Hearing her dear.
Utters last squeak.
Unable to speak.
Bit his own tongue.
As she turns him to stone.
With eyes that don't see.
(c)LIVVI








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9 hrs · Daily Mail Online ·



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I rarely use Costa, I will be working back at Winchester hospital shortly.
I will use their canteen, the food is generally very nice x














Revealed: The squalor inside Costa coffee shops

A total of 23 Costas got two or less stars in their most recent inspections, including a hospital branch which had paninis at risk of contamination with bacteria which can cause paralysis and death.



dailymail.co.uk



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Olivia Kent







Olivia Kent Ward , starting Monday x

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Philip McCarthy







Philip McCarthy Good luck with the job Olivia, But Im a bit of a coffee freak but will never use Costa it alwaysgives me bad guts ache afterwards.

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Olivia Kent







Olivia Kent Thank you Philip **

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Philip McCarthy







Philip McCarthy Hey I'm at the Cafe Reflections for the first time. It's good here x Photos to follow

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"Super cool."

"My boy"

Jade Xuereb's photo.


"A big shout out to everyone at the Amy Winehouse Foundation gig last night! Did two sets, first just me and the second backing."

Gray Ian's photo.

Waritsara Karlberg's photo.


"Storm Journey * unbreaking stone the key that unlocks the sky, and something races lionlike from beyond he thunderclap and the forest thrashes and waves like the choir in a Pentecostal church "yes, Jesus! Thankya, Lawwwd!" yes, there will be water if God wills it, so 'tis said. i read something in the living strokes of skyfire, the dance of something both benevolent and dangerous, and i can taste it like wine on the breath of the onrushing storm. it tastes like life, pouring into my lungs so fiercely i feel like i might be consumed by an overabundance of vitality. i can see that vitality all around me, the fecundity of Summer, relentless in its upward-thrusting, blossoming, breaking from the loam, bursting from the chrysalis, defying the arid winterlock that held the ground mere months ago. i walk from miracle into miracle, from myth into myth, the Universe enlarging with each step, until i'm carried like an infant in the arms of a loving storm."

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Give me your heart,
Full of  stringy sinews,
stretch them as far as you can,
use it as a yo-yo,
watch it,
it slings,
it's ****** feelings everywhere,
it's a  healthy heart,
covered with a thin layer,
insipid lipid tissues,
whirling,
yielding,
under pressure,
submissive,
youthful,
zeal for love,
real lust for life.
whips back,
darned quick,
many happy returns,
while walking the dog!
(C) Livvi

Just pebbles on a lonely shore.
Eroded by a constant ebb and flow.
Once were rough around the edges,
Quartz stones,embedded far within.
Bring forth the merman, who chips away with all his heart.
Only happens at midnight you know.
The merman, breaks the pebbles down, retrieves their gifts of crystalline dreams.
Requests permission from Neptune, the father of the seas.
To find a lonely mermaid, to be betrothed to him, so mer  folk can continue, to ever live and breed.
Free to rave those wild seas.
In love, they breed on rugged beaches, discreetly out of eye -shot of the eyes of man and beast.
(C) Livvi

Buttercups Diversify!
Posted by Olivia Kent on June 19, 2013 at 11:46am
View Blog
Buttercups Diversify!

In peach tinted temple of time,
Painted in poetry's dreams,
We kiss, we talk, we ,
Writing leisure through pleasure and pain,

I laid on your bed,
You bathed my shoulders so sore,
Left me smouldering with desires for you,
You donated to me, while we played in daylights sweet kiss,
A sweet single bright buttercup,
Dressed in waxen yellow,
Precious petals sparkling, shining ,
Glowing in the afternoon, after laying on the the spiky dry grass,
After dancing had passed,

A garden full of dreamers dressed in pink and white, blessed with fragrance, pure.
Collected from a century of rose tree,
The tree had seen much over the years about a century I was told,
Witnessed bombings in the blitz,
Watched mother's father's children's kiss,

Flowers of such beauty, dressed with a drizzle of love's sensation tickles,
As the dance goes on!
By ladylivvi1
© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Constructing the Year Anew!

I skipped on the wind to infinity.
Nearing insanity, not!
Riding on ice floes and hedges.
Now and then perched on the fence.
Betting the moon will cease to glow.
As last year,bade blurred adieu.

Her feminine face wrapped in chiffon.
Rippling in the breeze of night.
Rustling as the tree tops she tenderly strokes.
With merciful light as blessing of naive honour.
Not knowing the gift of the year to come.

Onward and upwards I ride.
Toss my hair over the shoulder of time.
Time and tide stand alone.
While waiting for love not to trip.

A night cruiser flowing on mortality's tides.
January until to the ides of March.
I creep coldly in silent sensitive chill.
Waiting for love to pick old ribbons apart and thrill me.
Decipher the mystical one.
DNA made me.
Let mRNA make me remember the one I was before.
May the candle in the bathroom burn ever hot.
Let me see the light.
The light of my life.

By ladylivvi1

© 2014 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

The maiden with the bitten heart.
The chiselled one made out of ice.
Melted by a super nova.
From the starkness.
Out of darkness.
There so appeared the peeping green of snowdrop leaves.
Little white flowers trying hard to scratch the surface.
To bridge the pain of what once was.
The river simmers.
If water were able to burn,so sure they should be burning now.

Running beneath the bridge.
The bridge that sighs under the weight of the world.
The water holds it's passion tight,
So be it, let it burn.
just before it says goodbye.
Sends it to the estuary
Running wild
frothing free.
May the sea freeze.
Amen.
(C)LIVVI

The Joy of Ultrasound!

Drink a lot my dear they said.
As fluid made a picture.
Hazy imagery.
Heaven's own creation.
Echoes bounced, as picture back.
Beautiful image as yet unborn.

Sitting in a darkened room.
Seeing normal limbs.
Marked out four chambers.
Cordant
Brimmed with love.
Infiltrated full with blood.
Organs not of music.
Silent as in-vitro.

Visualised a photograph.
Captured on the screen.
Un petit-fils enroute.
Ma fille elle-même une petite fille.
Life anew.
Enters my world.
Due on the 4th of April!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

You, you asked for my number.
I gave it to you.
You text me.
You say, honey do you fancy a drink?
I think and retort.
By text in return.
I wish you'd go to hell and burn.
"Don't you fancy me"? said he.

Retorted that, I wanted not a soul.
I need my privacy.
He said "why don't you fancy me"?
Insistently.
Do you maybe think I'm thick.
Maybe somewhat sick.
I said, "I think perhaps you should be dead".
Keeping on at me.
Trying to tear me to strands and threads.
Told him, that I wanted no-one.
Henceforth, ensues a psychological assessment.

Why don't you like me?
Said he.
"Grow up" said I.
Don't feed me your insecurity.
Currently I'm flying free.

Had a gentleman, not long ago.
Left me feeling pretty sad.
I loved him so.
But he's not bad.
Poor fellow, he just couldn't do it.

The guy who did text, he pied me right off.
That imbecile calls me out of the blue.
Suggests, may be a night-time of crazy ***.
Reminded me some more of you.
What a prat.
I need it not.
Go get lost and be forgot.
The strange being who talks only by text.
Pretends he likes me, but wanting ***.
I think him rather creepy.
He's out of luck.
I don't give a fk.
Left happy.
Self-respect and dignity intact.
(c) Livvi

Sent his woman a letter in French.
In obsession, The Marquis De Sade.
As in thy passion thy ***** thou didst wrench.
Thy being held high in disregard.
Obsessed with the perverse.
Creator of *******, slavery cruel.
Written his violence as ****** curse.
This power crazed man did his harem rule.
In ******* and pains.
Lashed up in a gimps.
Whipping with chains.
Wants lots of dosh, wishes of pimps.
Modern day tale of the Marquis De Sade.
A cruel ******* whose *** was hard.

Candle!

Life after death in the after life.
Here ever afters penned in epitaphs.
Scratched deep into ancient church rafters.

As a candle deprived of oxygen.
no longer burns.
A deleted issue of stifled love.

Love with which was trifled.
Brightness in love was once given.
Forgiveness for nothing.
Not been received.

The love has gone,
Gone to another soul.
Waving the lover fondly goodbye.
Tears are all wiped.
Face is bone dry.

Her love got stuck inside a sows ear.
Made a purse of love now lost
Maybe a curse.
Tears wasted for fear.
Her memories in tears will no longer drown.
Too expensive to replace.
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

She's lost and alone.
As she bays at the moon,
it's soul, so full.
The full moon smiles in a mischievous way,
Inviting her sorely to come out and play.

Tangled hair rolls down her back,
enveloping her fearsome face.
For tonight's cull,
Her manicure's gone
her nails have grown,
They're so sharp, so vicious, so fierce,
her tears,
although,
tumbling,
remaining unwiped,
She can bear no scars,
from her previous hunt.

Who said that t'was only the seventh son of the seventh son?

She wanders lonely hillocks,
On the hunt for human kind,

Her mind is cursed,
with ****** souls blood,
As she wanders alone through the wind blasted wood,
she's looking for food.

Her mind's set on feeding the curse she was given,
Stuck in a situation she did not want to live in,
Death did not become her,
it never could,
while,
she wandered lonely
through the wild wood.
Although,
desperately,
she tried hard to expire,
as an immortal wolf woman,
her wish was denied,
and she cried.

On the evenings,
when the moon was wane,
she sobbed to herself.
Feeling such pain,
knowing incarnate,
that soon the full moon,
would with it bring with her next date,
a date with death,
for somebody else.
(C)Livvi

Ebola, a portable killing machine.
No guns or knives.
Don't touch or kiss the devilish *****.
The dog that doesn't bite.
It's not rabid but it kills.
A dark hole brimming with fear.
Traversing through dangerous skies.
Worldwide transgression against all folk.
No joke.

For souls already caught.
I pray you rest in peace.
Under Deathly cape.
Cloak and dagger secrets.
Turning brothers against brothers.
Sisters against man.
The only place of residence chasing this disease.
Mercy be shown by research.
Stand up.
Take care.
Time to find a cure.
Thought zombies only lived in cheap time movies.
Or in the land of voodoo.
Ebola, bringer of the living dead.
(C) LIVVI

The air is autumn.
Smell of yesterday enters the air.
Yesterday's furniture.
Piles of junk.
Flaming ablaze.
Flaming amazing.
As I said smell the air.
Don't stand too close though.
No fingers burned.
It feels so good.

Don't need the heating on.
Rely on the bonfire burning bright.
To keep me warm for a while tonight.
Great excuse to destroy the flammable trash.
Only reminder, a pile of ash.
Smell of burning.
Aged brush wood.
A flaming bonfire.
So good so refreshing.
Fireworks such an expensive waste of hard earned cash.
Don't want my wages to go up in a flash.
A good bonfire is just so gratifying.
November the 5th, smelly fun.
Livvi

Initial day at uni.
Took a little stumble.
As down the road I rumbled.
World of study.
Well thought out.
Off my bike I tumbled.
Over the handlebars.
In front of the cars.
A not amusing somersault.
It really wasn’t funny.
My humerus, got broke
Not at all amusing,
Certainly no joke.
Not a funny bone to break.
University was no ball.

Off to uni.
Arm in cast.
In front of the others.
What a giggle.
Trainee nurse in pyjamas.
Battle of the one armed fly.
Impossibly undone!
By ladylivvi1

© 2014 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

The wise woman sat on laurels harsh.
Took a little breathing time.
Wanted not to ****** his soul.
To take away his dreams.
Unused to feelings pure.

Wanted to offer nothing unkind.
Not wanting swing through his troubled mind.
Desire not to tease his brain.
Wanted to wrap his body in her tender arms.
While sharing poets glory held tight in his arms.

Olivia Kent 2013

Jack *****  the darkness.
Penetrated it.
Jack o lanterns smiling.
On this night of fright.
Hide indoors.
Unless of course.
You're knocking on the neighbours doors.
Candy catching smiles.
Pressure to thrill.
No killing.
Just thrilling.
The night of all hallows eve .
Enjoy.
Be safe.
Go out to play.
Darkest night
Edging towards all souls day.
(c)Livvi

Fairies feel the winter chill,
The cold does make them ill,
Some fellow being kindly ,gave them spirits of his own.
The fairy folk are staggering,rolling through the trees.
Their noses run incessantly.
Hear them fairies sneeze.
They're making an awful lot of noise.
This bunch of drunken fairies are but ,raucous girls and boys.
They have had a huge amount of fun but the headaches that follow the whiskey,mean they're hiding from the sun.
Lovely little creatures strolled into the shop.
Needed analgesia to make these headaches stop.
The doctor couldn't see them.
He didn't have the time.
The secretary for human health, well he can't treat poorly fairies as he doesn't have the wealth.
Lets hope the fairies settle and get better very soon,
Fairies only party once in a blue moon.
(C) LIVVI

Not a wanderer stuck on the crest of lonely waves.
Nor running ragged on the sands of time.
Traipsing wearily through the wracks of sodden salty ****.
As cold water laps over their feet abandoned on craggy rocks.
Not always at sea.
Vagrant migrants.
From rock to rock.

Hark,
Ungodly whistling, clicking and howling.
Wailing and bemoaning.
Poseidon knows that they're around.
They strut around the rocks, all knowing.

Their lives they live as one of two.
Choose their one for life.
Should you see one in your salty path.
Foreboding spirit, a warning of turbulence to come.
A past sailor boy seen in totem of bird.
Not so swell, an evil omen.

Moons long past, the only witnesses to a killing crime.
Saw Albatross have his feet cruelly hewed.
Tobacco pouch for jack tar and his pals.
Ancient mariners in a doctrine of distortion.
Sky sailors slept on the wing over night.
Such misdemeanour,
Their perceptions were not right.
The birds perished in the dead of night.
As they did not ever rest in flight.
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Watch those blue shoes, being carried on the tide,
They're rolling from the water's edge,
propelled by sunlight,
lost in pain.
Once stepped over stones,
with you,
once weighed down.

See the lose broken twigs,
cruising with the tide beside them.
The shoes remember you intrinsically,
For all eternity,
Never will you be forgot,
Floating shoes,
have been released,
nearly free.
They're missing your lost kisses,
Riding ever onward,
Flowing toward home.
Being soothed and washed,
Cleansed and washed away.

They're dancing as seahorses do,
as they roam,
towards relief,
being bathed in marinated foam.
(C) Livvi

A double entendre,
Two ladies of the night, killed on the Sabbath day, 30/08/1888,
Was an unlucky day for lady Liz,
A drinking wild cat
'Long Liz Stride',
Was the first lady of two to meet her end on this most vile night!
Five feet five, when was alive,
Had grey eyes and a curly mop,
Her vicious murderer did not stop,
Her throat was gouged, ripped and torn,
Maybe was a lycan,
I can only say,
I doubt that very much,
Murderer went on ***** harvest,
Took a kidney,
****** removed,
For 'tis said that her murderer may have got disturbed,
Murdered by Nemesis of such depraved neglect,
Never seen to show regret,
Teased and tormented Scotland Yard,
Long Liz was apparently dishonest in soul it seems,
Swedish by descent, not really very decent,
Tried to con her Swedish Church to get finance from a fib,
Poor Liz, had no understanding of what the bible said,
Sad lady Liz,
Well,did end up dead!

Some said was a dark man, dressed in class attire,
Others said he didn't care!
__________________­___
Next Part to Follow!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

At the bus stop,a beautiful dormouse nibbled.
Gnawing away at a roll filled with sausage.
The freak with the tea-bag face.
Let's call her Alice.
Fair maid.
Mousy fair hair cradled her shoulders.
Reminiscent of Wonderland.
No blue and white pinafore dress.
Just a pair of leggings wrapped in complex patterns.
A medley of cream, brown and black.
Fluffy ebony boots of winter.
One missing thing no Cheshire cat here.
The road is rather too hectic for a cat to come and frolic.
Not even a fantasy cat with a grin.
Alice's mother stood close at hand.
Protecting her as they wait.
Quick as a flash.
The bus came.
Right one for me.
Doubt if I'll see bus-stop Alice ever again.
By ladylivvi1

© 2014 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

For this is a swan song.
A final curtain call.
Never seen a dead swan lain on the river bank.
Wondering where they go to die.
A sweet song for swans written.
An exercise in eloquence.
Bedecked in full white plumage.
In elegance she glides, as they glide, a family.
With their swan lake family.
Pen floats next to cob swan with cygnets dancing alongside.
Protected creatures cosseted, for Ma'am of the realm.
These ugly ducklings grew into quilted passions.
A passion of beautiful aggression is what we will receive.
Should we stupidly disturb?
These beauteous, arrogant tranquil birds.
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

A barren field, now I sit wasted.
Had my time, but it's passed.
The children have grown.
Boom, bang blast.
Breaking out as flowers bloom.
Forget me nots, they are not.
As in my barren field I sit.
Unforgiven.
Proliferating as an incendiary device.
A starter of fires deep in my heart.
Filled up my mother of wombs.
Once they burned out of control.
Curse my heart and my soul.
For me, myself, I die insolvent.
Wailing in maladies of loves lost attachments.
Why may this be, I hear thee say.
I disregarded them, I wanted to play.
The heart of the matter.
Who mattered was me!
(C) Livvi

In the night garden,
Brambles scar at heart and mind,
The roses bear no thorns,
The buddlea, no butterflies borne,
Metamorphosis into night light moths,
Beetles become fireflies,
Dancing round the fairy heads,

The ***** screams,
Portraying portents of doom,
While creeping beneath the glowing moon,
Dry brush wood cracks at winds intent,
Hedgehog spikes,
Tom cat hunts,
Queen lady calls,
She is his feline lover,
One of many,
Ladies in his life,
She'll give him many babies,
Never be his wife.

Garden of darkness a surreal place,
In daylight she will hide her face,
No nightmare in her freedom space!


By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

I love my pearl necklace.
The leftovers of my richness.
Now, I love my pearl necklace still.
You loved me, left me.
You made me sore.
Left me with a bitter pill .
Pearl tears stuck in my throat.
(C) LIVVI

Arrival final destination,
Welcome to Huntsville you see,
Enter by the back door,
Then you go to eat,
Traditional fare, if you like,
Burger wrapped in blood,
The blood red of ketchup, matches the blood on your hands,
You are young, dressed in virtual innocence,
Do the crime, you do the time,
Is it worthy of eternity,
Since break of day you wait,
Waiting for impending death,


6 P.M
It is the evening of your darkest day,
For vile sin, with life you pay,
What thoughts traverse through your young head,
As tears trickle and pleas long gone,
For clemency calls rolled onto deaf ears,
You were the big man so they said,
A victim of cruel circumstance,
Collared by forensic drift,
Evidence grabbed,
Poor boy,

At a cost of $86.08,
more than you made on that fateful day,
Led to the gurney in shackles and chain,
Chains weighed heavier than conscience,
Conscience ****** your frightened brain,
Are you moved for your final confession,
Ideal for the papers for in a press release,
The last words he did say,
'Thank God for giving me life, see you soon,
Sir, For it's my final day,
Of course, I forgot you know that anyway',
I'm Sorry, so sorry, Father forgive me,

Waited almost a lifetime for this his final day,
The row of death so welcoming,
The great escape maybe,
Visage of executioner,
Looks deep into your soul,
While you stare vacantly into his eyes,
The ultimate sensation of pain as the needle quickly enters your vein,
As nerve endings and your body die,
Reflection of immaturity,
Bad life, sad life, consequence of situation,
No life had, no love lost!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Syndicate!

Venezuela.
A land of ghosts.
Where cell phones die.
Undetectable.
As families cry.
For their lost loves.

Hostages taken.
Vanish into night.
For minimal ransom.
Ransoms paid by families of wealth.
Abductees murdered.
Rarely returned.
Hostage takers.
Rarely caught.
In this land of class distinction.
Tension builds.
Some.
The lucky ones get taken from the avenues.
Taken to the ATM.
Where their bank accounts are drained.
Given drugs then dumped again.


Caracas homicide rates high.
Ransoms paid and men still die!
In this dark land where crimes flies.
Never solved in this land so corrupt.
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Have not written much at all.
As work is always on the call.
I am prey to the poorly.
Always the sick.
Some self inflicted.
The ailing all want to steal my time.
And mine I'll give so willingly.
There is a passing passion to tenderly care.
My precious moments I shall share with the sick and the needy.
Tonight sadly, as well as stealing my pen my lovely patients shall  steal my sleep.
After the shift of the shadows from daytime to night.
I shall fulfill my role as the lady of the light.
When daylight of Sunday breaches my eyes my  much tired body will greet sleeps' surprise.
(c)LIVVI

My desire.
To swim with dolphins, in the warm roll of the sea of dreams.
To touch their shining silky skin.
Perhaps, I could be a dolphin too.
Tossing in the tide.
To roll  from the darkness into the light.
To wave at the moon with  her most blessed flippers.
As congenial dorsal fin slides her way through the waves.
She frolics and plays as she scoots through those waves.
That rover, this lady of the ocean.  
Flips out  in jollity,  as over the waves she travels.
(c) Livvi

Daisy Chain

As summer daisies locked in chains, inexplicably joined.
In an inevitable twist of fate.
The other daisies may wither and die.
Not you and I.
Coherent in an understanding.
In a murky world we dwell.
In a vague vacancy.
Such comprehension.
It is decreed.
That as summer fades, we will not die.
Chill of winter.
Will worry us not.
We shall be pressed together.
Wedged between the pages in an antiquated book.
In a love to withstand the touch of time.
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Kismet!

Genuine, loyal, royal and true.
Ensign flaring, pearly love.
Trumpets serenade.
An opal tinge of missing luck.
Mislaid on the way.
Left me rather blue.

Kismet could have kissed me.
She could have kissed him too.
Made him want to stay a while.
A caricature in goldfish bowl.
Surface scraping, seeking air.

Blessed are the meek of heart.
To live and breathe, for words of art.
Write words of honour, passion and pain.
Scratch out love words once again.
Hold tender words.
Close in heart.
Near in head.
To say once more before I'm dead.

Retreat and defeat come not to me.
True love or nothing.
But, not lucky enough to be,
Never in a daydream.
Or ever in a nightmare.

In the land of chivalry.
Only knight's a writer.
That's how it's got to be.
My writing is the one for me.




By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Utopia!

A mirage in the desert heat.
My eyes did lift.
My heart did meet.
My mind did drift to foreign climes.
The desert heat.
It charred my feet.

Palm trees graced a distant scene.
Arab man on fiery steed.
As if stepped out of a dream.
Hell in hell.
Methinks this maybe heaven sent.
Perhaps, I think that this must be meant.

And horror of horror.
The heat it burned.
Menopausal night sweats.
They turned.
Into sweating night dreams.
The early light, this early light.
Locked my sweet dream out of sight!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

AND IT'S JUST GONE MIDNIGHT ON THE FIRST DAY OF 2014.
She came in heralded by pyrotechnic display eau naturelle.
Thunderous applause from the sky herself.
Somewhat shocking
Kind of weird!
And the rain flowed as raging river.
Still the manufactured fireworks damage our heaven's blessed.

Happy New Year worldwide!
It actually presented real thunder and lightning! Rather bizarre!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

I smile.
When I smile my face wrinkles.
Several laughter lines trickle.
If I ***** up my funny face in a particular way.
I look a little like a pussycat.
This pussycat smiles.
(C) Livvi

Titanic
****** berth, she stands,
Maiden stream deflowering the
sunlight.
Immense furore along the dock.
Streamers, banners, brass bands.
Herald the beginning of
the end.
Magnificent and stately,
There she stands, a glory to behold.
Pomp and splendour,  
Wealth with greed,
All set to sail the seven seas.
A dream of life,
A life of dreams

Splendour of their own,
Scrambling ice mountains, glisten
Shining a fateful allure to a frozen death
A stern captain,
Calm, dignified,
Guides the ship of dreams unto her nightmare,
“Astern”, he cries, unheard through
muffled joy….
Crunching, crashing, listing,
A myriad of smashing crystal,
Destined for the deep,
Air thick with screams of terror,
Young, old, rich, poor,
All scared.
Mortified corpses float,
Water littered with deceased,
While the living dead look on.
Hope’s dashed,
Time dies silently.
Carpathian angel,
Saviour of souls,
God spoke,
Their souls were saved!
Livvi  Kent  2012
ladylivvi1@hotmail.com

Who is seeking fairytales
Of summer skies and garden snails
With oyster shells,
And holding hands.
Fair ladies with long golden tresses.
Wearing loud azure satin dresses.
With princes and gnomes with big fancy homes.
Wicked witches and Walter Mitty.
Yells his lies.
Then we sit and wonder why.
We ever sought fairytales at all.
Still waiting for true love to call.
Off we go
Another ball.
A ball and chain with business brains.
Never no more, never again.
(c)Livvi

Strike a light.
Simple.
Imagine.
Should the great fire of London become again lit?
History.
Ablaze.
In the blink of an eye all gone.
Smouldering remnants.
All Britain’s yesterday’s destroyed.
Gone in a puff of green smoke.
A world of tourism gone in a flash.
Powers that be, think of the cash!
Loyal fire people out on strike.
Spent as matches, if you like!

Even the great fires of anywhere.
Firefighters all out on strike.
Support these souls of bravery.
Stand side by side in strength.
Stand in solidarity.
Far and wide.
Our nation great
No choices left.
Loss of life.
Our nation maybe falls again
(c) Livvi

Jennifer Jones, sat on her own.
Loving ancient light bulbs and high heeled shoes.
Last time they saw her, hell they adored her
Her figure created by Pythagoras's pen.
All length and hypotenuse,
A spot on the news.
Gets raving reviews.
The angular woman with the spiky red hair.
She came and she went.
She knew what it meant,being angular.
Got fed up ,changed her style,
now she's full on rectangular.
She kind of cared.
But nobody dared,to approach her.
And now I concur ,
that although she thought she were a pretty bit square,
nobody cared.
Circled the world banging her gong.
Shapely Jennifer Jones,
what went wrong.
To make her so straight.
Still, she was great.
A diamond created for stars, overrated.
The fantasy of Jennifer Jones, who wished to be shapely.
Her outline got stolen, now she is shape free.
(c) Livvi

She is beautiful.
Lives in the eye of the beholder.
She is stunning.
Shunned by society.
Her skin is thickened.
It has to be.
Face to face daily with adversity.
She is a motherless child.
Grown up now.
Mother's still there.
A childless mother.
She is a lady unlike any other.
As such she will thrive.
She's staying alive.
Living and breathing.
Taking five.
Gasping and striving.
Making a living.
The power of the voice.
A choice.
Only she can make.
(C) LIVVI MMXV

Princess!

She was the princess of his dreams.
Once.
Not long ago.
In a flash of power she wrote his name.
She was not true beauty.
She scratched her name across his heart.
Left power of a memory.
An itch he longs to scratch.
Crazy people.
Not mismatched.
Be it not a pseudonym.
Her being, gave him crazy blessings.
Helped him love again.
Once arose a smile within.
Though love be lost.
Once did win!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

A Little Dark Humour for You!
Angels Don't Have Wonky Eyes!

Going through those gates of pearl,
Sudden vision ,
Lovely girl!
Charismatic aura,
All smiling,
Glorious halo,
Supported by nylon strings,
Unreal!

Noted,
This nefarious fellow,
Shocked to end his days in heaven!
Spun round while greeted,
By angel discreet,

Realised revenge was truly sweet,
Ex-wife was angel he did meet!
Angel turned to him and smiled,
No longer meek,
No longer mild,
Really feeling rather wild!

Archangel,
Fallen came to fetch him
Gonna take you straight to hell,
Said she,

Had to create a little story,
Dedicated to his lost glory!

With a knowing wink and a glint in her eye,
She grabbed his arm,
Screamed,
Sorry honey,
We gotta fly,

He made her dance when she was alive,
The karma effect,
She had revived!

By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)