Suddenly your eyes awake.
Every day a chance you take.
Tomorrow may never come.
The end of a life with the failing sun.

The echo of the ringing phone echoes, preaches tales of the unknown.
Outside the thunder cries, it's telling lies.
You wished it was.
And your missing hair, highlights your features.
Blatantly beautiful.
Your eyes shine brightly.
Nightly.

Despite your cancer, the evilest of creatures.
You still smile,  your perfection beaming.
The cancer inside is dying to spread.
You will win for as long as you can.
One day you won't awake,
The lord of love your soul shall take.
As he shall catch us all.
(C) LIVVI

Passion fires,
Love inspires,
From in the pits of diamond mines,
Sparkling,
Showering awe inspired gems,
For all the world revealed,
Drifting in my fellow poets mind,
Love is true, but truly blind!
Bound in chains of love's disaster,
From here until the never after!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

DINNER, inspired by Yui.
It's time for dinner.
What shall we have?
Brothers and sisters, the fatted calf?
Served with lettuce and bread.
Tomatoes and fries.
Why are we eating the dead?
It may not be a fellow being persay.
Is a fellow creature nonetheless.
As an issue of conscience.
I find myself bitten hard.
Very hard.
Internal debate.
External deliberation.
I rarely eat meat myself.
Sorry to say, I love the smell.
Love the taste more.
Could never work in an abattoir.
My conscience would be ripped to shreds.
Poor creatures sadly rendered dead.
My heart it bleeds each time I think.
Killing to eat is barbaric.
This poem is written in the best possible taste.
Sadly, so is the meat.
(c)Livvi MMXV

The aged beast.
The haggard crone.
Bony fingers.
Crooked nose.
Chewing bones of children pure.
Evil person that's for sure.
She stands and stirs her cauldron.
Vile smelling.
Slings in a dead rat or two.
A newt, who looked cute.
Grinned as she chucked him in.
Black cat crawled around her legs.
Cracked in a dozen rotten eggs.
Goodness knows what she is brewing.
Smells terrible.
Door flies open.
Almost of its hinges.
The man in the black pointed hat strolled in.
Had a bad day, he scowls as he whinges.
Hangs his nose above the cooking ***.
Smells great darling.
What have we got?
(c)LIVVI

Went to see the pastor,
he invited me for tea,
a general pleasant conversation,
covered all the room,
we chatted for a while,
and then I made smile,
I asked him "Sir, what's for tea",
He grinned real wide,
and said to me,
" sweet lady, we are having a roast",
and then I said to he,
What is the roast to be today?
He smiled back as he replied,
remnants of the lord who'd died,
"what on earth said I"?
So I smiled back and chuckled a bit,
would we, really roast the holy ghost,
he nodded bowing his head,
"Sweet lady, we are having Fred"
"Who on earth is Fred"? I said,
"Well  milady",
"Fred is the chicken, that scratched in the yard,
who made conversation with the bard,
while, scratching for worms"
"More filling than the holy ghost,
chicken ,tastes a whole lot better than most other roasts"
So,
the vicar or pastor, whichever you care, picked up his chopper after brushing his hair,
dashed into the yard to catch hold of Fred,
Fred didn't fancy being dinner,
so he'd already fled.
(C) Livvi

Glass of ***** windows hides a multitude of sin.
Ain't no way you're looking in.
Never gonna let you see.
Secrets hide behind them panes.
Black eyed girls and blue eyed boys.
Can't see through, just hear the noise.
The clock face atop the tower is seen to show thirteen.
Listen very closely, you can hear the children scream.
Foreboding walls of council caverns.
Manor houses.
***** parents hang in taverns.
Or slug from bottles without tops.
Cider or *****,
Who knows what.
It's a closely guarded secret.
Behind those filthy pains.
Never ever, hell on earth.
Will I, the secret poet,
Escaping from the closet.
Ever go there again.
For I am not a drinker.
Never ever was, because!
Instead, I am a thinker.
(c)LIVVI

On the way home
From meeting the man who can't ,but who can.
The smile who carries the stars and the words to be sung to guitars and pianos.
To jelly she turned.
Once bitten fifteen times shy.
And the red rose is perched significantly over her left ear.
(C) LIVVI

She was the soul of discretion, he was much too cool to mention, so she never did.
(c) Livvi

Transit camps that look like concentration camps.
Fenced in as cattle.
No gas chambers to be seen, no gas fires either.
The people get colder.
Younger and older.
They're full of lost and lonely souls.
Women, and children.
All the same goal.
From a home that's unstable, to a missing table.
Complete with Gingham table cloths, brilliant white with squares on.
The message is nobody cares on our planet.
The windows are catching the glint of the light.
The windows hang open, all day and all night.
They're nowhere in sight.
The windows that is.
No windows, no doors, just fences.
Not often daytime.
More often night.
This Skid Row is full of children that cry.
Some of whom die.
Too many in fact.
Some born in transit.
Too many are stuck.
The world turns it's face away.
To the displaced just another day.
(c)Livvi

Why do I awaken at night.
Probably just to write.

Escape a dream scene.
Scratch it out, what does it mean.

Grab the pen beside my bed.
To etch my thoughts before they're dead.

Don't write a full poem.
Just scribble quick  words before they die!

Lest them not be forgot.
I cannot kiss my words goodbye.

Need to write them  before they expire.
All I write is single words.

Bring wisdom as they grow.
In sleepy state .
Best words come out.
The only ones I know!
(C) Livvi December 8th 2013

Hey you with the beard, are you Muslim?
Why does it matter what ever you believe?
You who wears the cross, are you a Christian?
What does it say about you?
Are you honest are you true?
Do you follow the commandments laid down by your lord?
You with turban on, are you a Sikh?
What are you hunting?
Hey you in the short skirt with makeup layered thick,
Are you ******?
Tell us quick.
We need to know.
You in the chair with wheels on.
How did you get there?
Unless you choose to tell us we shouldn't care.
Need to make judgements?
You in the cassock,
Are you a bishop?
Chick in the habit, are you a nun?
Could just be fancy dress,
A hen party.
A nun on the run.
You with ebony skin...
Are you that different to me ?
I think not.
Gay guys and lesbians, transgender guys,
transgender chicks.
Think before throwing sticks and stones.
And breaking bones.
Words hurt.
Under the skin the being within...is HUMAN.
Attitudes decided by images externally.
Be who you want.
Just gotta be free.
Does it change the person inside?
Think of these questions before you decide.
(c)Livvi MMCV

Black cabs and ab-dabs.
Dashing through London streets,
High heels and crippled feet.
Back street bars,
wealthy sheiks,
ever running,
Hide and seek.
Black panther's in lippy,
Colourful hippies.
Turbans and tunics,
Kiddies in cotton, with mud on their bottoms.
Big Whigs and stiff prigs.
Market stalls and rubber *****.
Undergrounds and all around.
City beats, it's hopping on.
On and off off of buses and train.
London love life, kicking pain.
Picks up his drink and thinks like a fish.
A couple more beers, three seconds of fun.
Slipped into his glass.
Glass one, two three,
Freedom four.
Needs more.
(c) LIVVI

As water is as such divine, my heart is yours and yours is mine.
The wheals of paradise thus did forsake me.
She says love me back and he says make me.
Diamonds on dinner plates.
I'll faite accomplished.
She smiled such a beaming grin, pray let our love be nourished.
May emotion and truth ride roughshod upon the turf, let love compel us into earth.
My love be cherished as a gemstone.
Eternal forever more,ne'er for burning.
(c) Livvi

Codes of killers.
Bits and pieces.
Clues for absolution.
Proving points.
(c) Livvi

I live in a hole,
but,
I'm not a hobbit,
I am whole,
complete construction of DNA,
a being,
a mixture of parts,
a mixed mash,
of colourful art,

I have charms,
they're buried far in the reaches of my eyes,
and,
at the end of my arms,
in the land where no-one lives but me,
I work in care,
as care I do,
I earn,
but I still  just exist,
in my hole,
maybe my whole,
not even a half,
or a quarter,
not the devil's daughter,
ever,
not never,
never in a million years
this non hobbit woman,
is not an American,
in my case,
it's England,
that is the land of the free,
free speech,
that's a laugh,
free standing,
a  lamp or a politician,
full of ignoramus blues,
all left over remnants,
from yesterday's news.
(C) Livvi

Dogs of War!

In a vulnerability of emptiness.
Lonely in a reason of neglect.
A huge dose of regret.
Fits with loss.
May the world not be be bereft.

The world has lost it's honey.
These are not sweet bees.
Ripped from hornets nest.
The toxic beasts repelled.

Court of the land expels appellant.
In a lore unto their own.
In an aphorism.
Of vacant statements.
Hanging in an old cold world before the end of days.
When dogs of war come out to play.
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

In sparkles and butterflies she's coming to grace the stage,
it's said,
astonished to be made aware,
the stage at Glastonbury 2014,
is to share,
Dolly Parton and her bits,
diamante maybe dressing her ****,
the queen of country,
along with Debbie Harry,
what a strange combination,
let us all pray,
that Glastonbury doesn't drown this year,
I fear perhaps it will!
(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

She was his temple.
He drowned in her spirit.
It killed him in the end.

He was hiding under her skin.
He was her house.
Her shelter from storms

Where as a mouse she hid.
An honest abode.
Concealing the secrets of joys long since passed.

In the days where emotions exploded.
The joys were captured in  a net of nylon.
Stuck in a location where all  secrets live.

They are stopped dead.
Dead in their tracks.
Left no remains.
Grey tear stains.
Faded from red.

The remains of the day.
As dolphins together.
They rove free through the sea.

Livvi

You have green teeth you scabby *****,
No one else will want you more,
Can't do better,
I'll tell you so.
I'll keep on ,
I'll let you know!

You will not go,
Not leave my house,
Cower as a frightened mouse,

You're not leaving,
I don't care,
Grab you,
Swing you by your hair,

Punch my fist around your face,
Cause you make me sick,
Will demonstrate prowess of evil demon,
Kitchen knife displayed,

Locked the doors,
Barred the windows,
You can't escape,
I got ya!

Vile man,
Spited me,
Actually spat at me,
Full abuse and over use,
My God,
I was so stupid,
This man was no flaming cupid,

I was so controlled to see,
He never really wanted me,
I was his sucker,
Not crazy *****!

Nearly lost my family,
Close to losing friends,
Affected my son,
He was the disgrace!

Not Me,
My teeth aren't green,
I'm always kind,
I won't do that again,
Don't need that kind of ******* pain!

By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

On your knees before me Sir.
Only you can make this ***** cat purr.
Make me proud of you.
You are the knowing one,
Who knows just what to do.
You said your name was Richard.
Henceforth, I'll call you ****.
(C) LIVVI

She worked in customer service, her  hair let down over her shoulders.
She's wearing ***** boots.
She walked around shaking her keys, as she made them all beg for mercy.
One on one,
She whipped him hard, so very hard and made him beg for mercy.
She locked him in a tiny room around about 10 by 10,
She shoved him up against the wall and made him scream in pain.
Tomorrow would be another day, she'll do the same again!
(C) Livvi

His name,
well it is Dominique,
wants to be a woman,
perhaps,
as he slips into his plaid skirt,
thought it rather itchy,
he could be rather ******,
Starts off in high heels,
yes,
Then he dons his rubbers,
I said Dons,
not Dom's,
then feeds his fetish,
pulls up his welly boots,
into rubber you know!
He traipses to the shop of ***,
there he buys a gimp suit,
gives his girlfriend whips and chains,
she locks him up in the cellar,
he's a really funny fella,
I'm sure he is okay,
but, I guess I'll never know!
(C) Livvi

Dominique,
The nicer version,
He spoke to me with tongue of fork,
What did Livvi do, bar laugh.
He gave her a giggle,
with the words the she wrote,
So, in her most indignant style,
she said she'd pen something far less vile.
He has a heart of gold,
but he's just a friend,
he's much too old,
he's a very good writer,
with a mighty pen.
He writes of true love and flowers,
not as risque,
as Livvi,
this cute piskie,
but he's okay to chat to every day,
Dominique,
he's my critique,
He kinda makes me giggle,
not much more as I'm a tad fickle!
(C) Livvi

Try not to cry sweet child,
let me wipe those tears away,
dab them from your frightened eyes,
I saw him grab you,
throw you round,
I saw him,
I watched him,
I saw him leave you,
abandoned on the ground,
and I was powerless,
like a flat battery,
as he spilled his can,
while trying to find his drunken mouth
and I felt it in my heart,
in the depths my soul.
Sweet child,
I saw you as you fell,

There were no pleasantries shared,
You left in a flash,
I know not where you came from,
and I know not where you went,
Never even got a name.
It was such a scary dream,
I woke up in a dreadful sweat.

As I remembered how it felt.
When Mother's partner,
Had hammered her with a thousand strikes
And then,
after making mama sore,
he left,
barricaded the exit door,
he left,
after which a million sorry's were always exchanged.
They always were,
the cycle continued,
in a self-fulfilling prophecy,
(C) Livvi

Don't Cry ! (From Him to Her)

Don't cry said he.
Tears fell as summer rain.
For you.
You are just princess
I adore you greatly.
My sweetly scented lemon lady.
Filled will bubble and sugar spice.

My queen she is.
She is my queen.
The power that flows from my pen.
Into my heart, then out again.
For my queen is elegant.
Flighty and moody.
Vile and violent at times.

I am her king of kings.
From diamond mines.
Where darkest carbon makes it's own designs.
Many facets of her diamonds.
She's is an emotion fueled woman fueled by war.
Loaded with violence.
She is often a *****.
My darling princess you know the score.


By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Don't speak of loving me if you don't mean it.
It's all knotted up and strapped round your tongue.
Twisted as ******* razor wire.
You laugh as you sit there.
You set me on fire.
No denying.
I can be trying.
Trying at times at sixes on nines.
Two thirds a happy face that smiles.
One third a scowl.
A drawing, perfect picture.
In denial.
(c)Livvi

Don't fall for me I'm  POET,
That's what we all say you know!
Whatever I write might,
just be hidden out of sight,
Rash thoughts inscribed on scraps of flaky paper,
Who knows what's true,
Only I do, mainly just a mess of words,carried in the beaks of bird,
Morning chorus, sings out loud,
Livvi's,  here and standing proud,
Trumpets sound and angels sing,
Potential glory they may bring!
Production of imagination,
Imagery on high,
You  want  to know how I roll,
pray tell ask  me!
I will tell you why I am and who I am,
All about my life, perhaps,
Pray tell
Won't be etched on paper, or thrown into the wind,
Please ask me,
I will speak,
Whatever else goes your way......my answers will always be true!
Filled with love divine...although misguided,
undecided where to fly from here!
My dear!
Livvi Kent 14/04/2013

A staff of a million skeletons will attend to you today.
Should you become unwell.
The walking dead will sort you out upon these festive days.
Hark,
Listen hard.
You can hear their bony feet clacking on the ward floors.
No ears to hold their scopes, nor neck to dangle tubes upon.
Missing eyes in hollow socket space.
Surgery out of the question.
Without eyes much too dangerous to mention.
No visual assessments.
Palpate your belly.
Icy fingers scratch.
Always have cold hands.
Write their ward reports in blood.
That which once was yours.
They keep it in a cookie jar.
Fed with anti-coagulants.
Last time you were admitted.
Stashed away for the ill to use exclusively on Christmas day.

The nurses are worn out.
Fingers worn down to the bone.
Listen once again as all those patients moan.
A cold bed bath.
The nurses hands are sorely chilled.
Had no time to eat today.
Only one or two around.
That's all the staff they found.
The angels became bones.
No time for their breaks.
While festive moments are magic.
Only get ill if you must.
Won't be very long before the staff turn into dust!

By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Don't Tell Me What to Do !
Just a humorous look at the ten commandments!

Handed down biblical tablets,
Telling us what not to do!
Not sure if they apply to you!


Message was I'm not to steal,
Or so the bible said,
Have no money left today,
Will starve and end up dead,
Out of sight's not out of mind,
Not sure what else to do,
Steal a sandwich,
One or maybe two!
Which I would never do!

See nothing funny,
Commandment two,
Thou shalt not ****,
With this commandment,
I hereby concur with you!

Worship no-one human,
In this our mortal world of sin,
If God exists there's only one,
So let his will be done!


To make a graven image ,
Is a phoney,
Misdemeanour,
Wee mischief,
Does that include a photograph?
Maybe does,
So Moses said!
Depends interpretation,

*** I hear you say,
You took his name in vain,
Not such a great thing to say,
Within this Godly game!

Mother, mother where's my tea,
Get it now,
Get it for me,
Little honour left these days,
Sure it's there a bit,
Unfound unnoticed,
It beats me!

You married once,
Hoped for life,
What went wrong,
Found someone,
Another's husband,
Or someone else's wife,
With this statement I agree,
But don't stay if unhappy,
Steal not another's mate,
A cheating heart,
Well that ain't great!
In Adulterer's Bible, sixteen hundred and thirty one,
A misprint, stated errors, sated,
'Thou shalt commit adultery'
A.K.A, The Wicked Bible!
Thought this was really rather funny!

Steal lies and nothing else,
When stolen just discard them,
Gossip not,
Keep phantom stories to yourself,
Enough muck and lies in field of life,
Without them further spreading!

Take nothing from your neighbours,
Without their prior permission,
You may not want to love them,
Take them to your heart or care,
We all have human needs you do declare,
That one day you may need them there!

Some of these are mixed together,
In one almighty mess!


By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

I was never there,praise be.
Lucky English woman, glad to be free.
As men and women, we are all doomed youth indeed.
Born to expire at the end of the line.
When the time be right to to bid all goodnight, if we're able.
Never set foot on a battlefield luckily.
Breathing relief.
Stood in a war graveyard just up the road.
My head bowed in respect.
Now it's time for worlds and words to break,as war crimes take up their ministerial minions.
Mistakes, unforgiving.
Deception deceiving.
There will be light at the end of the tunnel, where spiders dwell and *******, poor immigrants as swimming ants are struggling to stay afloat.
Landing on a promised land, the water's deep can't touch the sand beneath the feet, death may be sweet release.
Travelers and smuggler's making fun of immigrants trying to reach the sun.
(c)Livvi

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

Get your hat from the peg sweet child.
Protect your skin from mottling.
The sun is baking gently.
For here we are walking along the river side.
Where we shall pick banks of bluebells for free.
We shall smile and giggle.
Watch swans swimming by.
Heraldic and beautiful catching our eyes.

Behind the fence live the goats,
Strange creatures they are.
"Watch your bonnet Dorit,"
They'll steal it if they get a chance.
Curious creatures they are.
A family, of three.
Billy, Nanny and Delilah .
They are so very friendly.
They'd love to break free.
But their sweet release has nothing to do with thee or me.
Their eyes follow us.

We carry along on our summertime jaunt.
Nearly home now.
To our right a large cow.
If cows can smile at us, I'm sure that she did.

Indoors now.
Our bluebells in vases.
Bonnet hung up.
Undone ribbons and bows.
Shoes off.
You said your feet were sore.
I'm rubbing your toes.
To make them feel a bit better.
Evening is coming and she's needing a sweater.
Evening chills not thrilling.
Her bed is calling, she is so willing.
She's falling asleep, at the end of the day.
"Goodnight Dorit. "
(c) Livvi

I'm in love with sleep,
It touches all of me
Stressful life, soothed away.
Sleep is a treasured gift,
Wrapped up a sunrise.
Always darker,just before the dawn.
Now I am the one to yawn.
(C) LIVVI

The winter receded, the sun came out, the wind relaxed.
Alice went hunting for  dormice.
Curiously, she peaked into nest box.
To make sure he was safe and warm.
She was truly glad.
Free from harm.
She found him safe and well.
Escaped from floods and winter's hell.
Snuggled up in minute ball.
After hiding from malevolent winter storms.
In the dark corner at the back of the box, at last with spring he came forth.
Out he sprung, he ran away.
Alice thought she'd invite him round for tea
The wakeful dormouse went out to play.
Still he's running free.
(C) Livvi

I used to buy doughnuts with granules of sugar on.
You had to lick it from your lips.
The sugar on doughnuts became estranged.
Exchanged for sticky syrup,shining.
Nothing like yesterdays doughnuts
They taste almost the same,
They look a little less inviting.
But today's doughnuts' are still exciting.
(C) Livvi

Here and there not anywhere or anyway.
Lost in time, without a crime.
The grime built greasy mountains.
What became of bright blue fountains?
Being moonstruck.
Black skies at sundown.
Luck is thus.
It is made of one's own.
While demon wrestling cover's blown.
Down trodden and lustre less.
Living in a self made mountain of mess.
Created in years.
Left alone.
Until now.

Holy cow.
Where's batman when you need him?
Or maybe a magician.
That may help a little bit.
Whisk onwards and upwards.
There must be some bliss.
Maybe some diamonds.
Don't know where to go.
The decisions are resting on a mind that is low.
I don't know.
(c)Livvi

There's a dragon in the garden.
Huffing, puffing, billowing smoke.
Trees recoil in abject horror.
Dragon's noisy.
Hissing and sparking.
Dragon melts in to the atmosphere.
High-flown brazen.
Hideously beautiful.
He puts forth his strike.
Striking out at dried out leaves.

A stupendous bang.
An explosion of long dead transmitters spray across the lawn.
Popping loudly as they fly.
Spawned from dragons guts.
Someone fed him a disused T.V.
From his belly sparked kaleidoscope of coloured lights.
Children should not feed the bonfire.
(C) LIvvi 2014

The stars upon the canvas, spotted dotted, painted white,
Night sky crisp with dreamer's dreams, streaming through the sky,
Can you interpret these flying dreams?
Dancing through the scheme of things,
Oh look, there's a pretty one wearing candy pink,
There's a rugby players dream, decked in a stripy shirt,
A babies dream wriggled slightly by,
not fully able to understand,
Catching dreams of babies, is in such great demand,
In dreams of innocence, and chuckling smiles, so tiny, they make not much sense.
Along trips a nightmare, a terror of war,
hold on tight, the fiery steed of passion scares,
What was caught in your dreams last night, can you remember?
(C) Livvi

Ivory towers.
Standing still.
Many hours.
Muddy ground.
Flower beds.
Growing falling sun.
******* heads.
Very heavy.
Missing moments.
Little pleasure.
Getting scary.

Scarred for life.
Seeds and pips.
Rose tinged hips.
Green grass .
Top brass.
Trumpet, trombone.
Noisy music.

Hanging phone.
Approximation of waiting time.
Twenty years.
You'll be fine.
Locked up.
Prison cell.
Can't tell.
How long.
Breathe.
Close eyes.
All gone.
Sink teeth hard into fruity scone.
Enjoyed it a little.
Now all gone!
(c)Livvi

To live and lust for purple pennies.
As upon clifftops and hillocks I stroll, reluctantly stuck.
In perfect patience, I sit and wait, dreaming of bright lights, no silence.
Dancing on starlight and raindrops of thought.
Just wearing a smile.
And so shall I wait.
(C) LIVVI

Midnight came and midnight went.
Once again alone in bed.
Company creeps into her head.
Unwanted and unwarranted.
In the form of vibrant visions.
Somewhere between rest and life.
Or rest of life.
Never sure.
A drifter on the raft of life
Eyes clasp shut or open wide.
Creeping behind clams eyes.
Hidden secrets.
Locked behind those heavy tired,
Visionary creators.
Brain in pain or brain insane.
Never sure what qualifies.
The images stored behind minds eyes.
Locked inside, no great escape.
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Bed beckons as infant comforter.
A place of cuddles to snuggle down in.
Enter the realms of relaxation.
Escape the world as stress relief.
Today has been stolen by yesterday's thief.
Tomorrow hurries in.

Sleep is gone before it begun.
In a toss, a turn, a twist of sheets.
My sleeping heart slows down her beats.
Unless a crazy dream ensues.
Leaving me feeling scared or amused.
I find the man of my dreams when I'm asleep.
But when awake his secrets keep.
When I rest I love it best.
My dream man and I reach the skies.
Locked behind my sleeping eyes!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

I live thinking of you deep, while I sleep,
Convincing you in dreams that a space in my cherished heart is saved,
Saved only for you!
I feel your touch on my lashes, in flashes and dashes,
I feel you kiss my mind and my lips,
Deep in sleeps moments precious ,
Where passion runs free,
In dreams you are holding me,
Stroking my face with warm breaths,
Such sweet touch!
You make me shiver and quiver,
Desires imagination fires,
Dream building in my fiery mind,
Losses in your mind, will no longer find,
Saved by little bird,
Tender in kind, not the pretender,
In love ever after, warm heart will return,
Fiery huge love intense, plays on sinews silken,
Kept in heart depths,
At arms length,
Only in dreams!
Livvi Kent 26/04/2013

Christmas is coming.
The turkeys quaking in their boots.
The ***** sits in the subway.
He's cursing mental health, it's roots.
He's dreaming of filling his boots.
Delusions full up with Christmas lunches.
Mistletoe and holly bunches.
A predilection for unwrapping gifts.
A bottle of wine.
** ** **.
The rocking in the shop front.
Tambourine in hand.
Busking Christmas carols.
Somehow basking in the season.
A reason to go on.
Smiling with his very best Santa Claus grubby grin.
Must be the festive mood he's in.
A night on the tiles.
In the doorway.
Still homeless.
Still lonely.
He does his best to be accepted.
No passers by ever join in.
Not even making conversation.
(c)LIVVI

Dreams Whisper!

In the silence of a whisper.
Under bated breath.
Hiding in the undergrowth.
On golden autumn days.
Muttering sentiments in virtual silence.
In the night-time where dreams are rich.
In a penance for pennies.
Where we all whisper in static print.
Written across pages in midst of secret chat.
Eventual whispers.
A main event.
Maybe result of expectation.
All it needs a simple message.
Almost a mental massage.
Relieves the daily stress!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

A translucent blouse of yellow covers her *******.
Black skirt, sliced from foot to hip.
Discreetly covering from all but imagination.

The imagination provides the words.
To conjure image of this bird.
Five feet ten.
Womanly hips.
Sparking witchy fingertips.
In black ankle boots.

She stands.
Makes no demands.
Nobody matters.
Those she just flatters.
Lest those who wish.
Wishes which, can only be met by magic wand.
Only sleight of hand can convince her.
That love will e'er be worth having again
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

If you were to dress me.
What would I wear.
Jeans and a tee-shirt with braids in my hair.
Or maybe a ball gown in crimson sateen.

Maybe a dress flowing down round my ankles.
A belt of knots around my waist.
Sandals with poked through painted toes.
Perhaps a hippy chick with a ring through my nose.

A wedding dress of Ivory.
It states out loud you're all for me.
With a diadem of sparkling gems.
To match the one upon my finger.

Would you dress me as an angel in your own naivety.
Should I wear my uniform.
Tie back my annoying hair.
Watch on my breast.
As I'm obsessed with time.
Not my choice I swear.

Or would you like me naked.
Dressed as nature meant.


By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)