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Olivia Kent Nov 2015
Want to dance like Cinderella.
Price of shoes uncertain now.
At 52, my feet get sore.
Glass slippers may splinter.
Slice my tootsies to the core.
Can't track down any princes.
Charming or otherwise.
Prince charming's just a fantasy.
Would be bored with him for sure.
Charming is a creepy ******,
As if you didn't know.
My covers are calling me.
Know, where I want to go.
Back to bed.
Need to be warm.
Bed alone.
Nothing but, coffee for company.
Ma quilt is continental.
Voulez vous couchez avec moi ces soire?
Bonjour!
(c)LIVVI
Olivia Kent Sep 2015
Through the fragile looking glass,
Sealed edges, air tight?
Watching dragons as they pass.
Envisaging witches,
Stuck behind glass.
They're standing round copper tone cauldrons
All full up with steam.
The noise is peculiar.
The roaring of dragons too close at hand.
The cauldrons bubble.
The witches whisper.
The dragons wail.
The dragon upon his back sports a sail.
Tries to break through the glass with his mightiest tail.

The dragon had made it
Fantasy left behind the mirrors border.
Accompanied by forward marching bearded dwarves and folk of elven kind.
Pursued by orcs with knives and forks.
With disgusting faces.
And empty bellies.
The dragons, they turned, with sulphurous breath, chased away orcs with one mighty blast.
Back through the mirror the ugly orcs fled.
Straight into the witches cauldron.
Not dead.
The potions the witches were brewing, today ,contained ingredients to chase scary away
Ugly creatures, converted,beautiful.
The rest of the *** contents made into soup.
Making ugly creatures lovely.
Ever seen a pretty Orc?
You'll know where he's been if you ever do!
(c)Livvi
Olivia Kent Sep 2015
I want to hold you in my memory.
I want to hear you in my words.
I want to bathe with you, in warming beautiful seas that swell.
Find echoes of you in curling seashells., washed up on the shore
I want to play your magical music, in a modern day movie score.

I want to hear your music carried on the wind.
I want to hear your voice when the telephone rings.
I want to look in the mirror and see you standing behind me peering over my shoulder.
That's my fantasy.
What's yours?
(c)Livvi
Olivia Kent Jun 2016
Falling apart.
My feet are firm.
A shank in my back, rammed in hard.
You, you're the dealer.
I am the cop.
It's for the chemical romance we never shared.
You tried to persuade me.
Tried to degrade me.
You swore that you loved me.
I never believed you.
Always deceived you.
It's a fair cop buddy.
Hung out to dry.
Suspended along the balcony with all your rotten ***** lies.
Back street apartment on the twenty second floor.
Wailing women waiting below to score, your foul chemistry set.
Complete with it's contents.
Ladies in waiting.
Not sure what for.
Quick exit from the real world.
Escapism.
Writing my imagination,
An honest fix.
(c)LIVVI
Olivia Kent Nov 2013
Farewell my Friend!

Carnal is the knowledge of one who once was.
A poets lust filed in defilement.
Creature sometimes vile.
Deflated football kicked when down.
A pile of dust laid by the wayside.
Tragedy in life of sorrow.
Once was us.
Now no tomorrow.
Apart from two no-one knew what had gone around.
In sweet release for scratch in time.
No others knew what we had found.
Now you are gone I still go on survival of the fittest.
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Olivia Kent Dec 2013
Farm Animals!

Entered like a lamb.
Meek and mild.
Spent time with me.
Capricious goat.
Licked me like a passionate pup.
Visited me a playful pony.
Loved me as a stallion.
Kept your **** for Sunday lunch.
And then galloped away!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Olivia Kent Apr 2015
The passion of the poet's words are as the passion of the Christ.
The images created be that of Da vinci at his best.
Their sound unfurls beneath the sea, beating echoes.
Painting pictures in the sand.
Entrancing feelings.
This poet she is passionate ,
In every way imaginable.
Holds a one way conversation, with herself and all her readers, everyone fathoming her rhyme and her reason.
(c) LIvvi
Olivia Kent Aug 2013
Glued in the corner,
Transfixed by fear,
Of irrational things I cannot change,
As panic covers up my eyes I don't know what I see,
Start to shake, so want to run away,
Unable to move,
Escape is mercy,
Shaking incessantly,
Terror strikes,
Heart pounds,
Reaching for evasive breaths,
Unable to gasp,
Laugh,
Initially just a chuckle,
Followed by laugh of lunacy,
Then tears,
With tears relief apparent,
Tears bring mercy,
Escaped at last!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Olivia Kent Oct 2015
You laid me almost prone upon my back.
Head elevated 'pon an icy pillow.
Hands clamped firm upon the scary chair.
Invisible clamps they were.
Relax you say.
Only hurt a little bit.
Methinks this woman's chatting s**t
Flashed lights into my eyes.
Want to tell.
Can't even cry.
My nose drips with unfeeling fear.
Hammer drill battering.
Position unflattering.
Dribbling from all ends.
Gasping and struggling.
Can't escape.
Metaphorically *****, unceremoniously by the dentist in the morn.
Cavities in my broken teeth.
All gone.
They were giving me such grief.
(c)LIVVI
Olivia Kent Nov 2016
The war of the third world is on route.
I feel it in my broken bones.
Falling skies and writhing sand.

Come world climb from the fence.
May goals no more create sorrow.
A glowing sun, fresh water,
Tomorrow walking in,
Tail removed from tangled straps which bridle it between the legs.
Winter time and the living ain't easy.
Bombs and guns,
No war to be won.
No world to be fought for, if we're not careful.
Fearful world.
Sleep easy.
(c)LIVVI
Olivia Kent Feb 2014
Spitting fire from my tongue.
The contents of my mind upset.
I ***** in sulphuric rage.
It's burning in my chest
So many things of vile sickness, seen before my broken eyes.

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


By ladylivvi1

© 2014 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
My friend asked me to write a decent  poem using the word "*****", I did this one!
Olivia Kent May 2016
Cold creature.
Dislocated jaws.
Rippling musculature.
Urging in.
BMI increased.
Mega girth.
Crusher fed.
First time ever.
Watched the serpent feed.
Fascinating.
Sleeping now.
(c)LIVVI
I have 3 snakes and 4 lizards in my house. I have never watched the snakes feed before..
Amazing experience.
Olivia Kent Mar 2014
Love lay dormant.
Neath near extinct volcano.
Fire from earths bowels.
Curtsying, the delicate female form, confesses to the sorrow of a million sins.
Archangels dance in celebration in collaboration, at dinner for the dragon given in  the form of fallen gift.
Dragon kind screams at hearing lady wail,  the  whirling maiden impaled hung upon the spikes of a hundred shards of disrespect.
She was to be fodder for the dragon.
The dragon, he did so take pity.
The dragon lived in fantasy land.
His title was Sir Walter Mitty.
(c) Livvi
Fantasy stuff from the pen of the idiot English chick x
Olivia Kent Jan 2015
Food swirls and swishes around his mouth.
He needs a washing machine for his clothes and a flannel for his hungry smile.
He brings the sun.
My very hungry caterpillar a.k.a my grandson.
So Grandma says you see.
Baby Bradley,mini boy!
The apple of his Nannas' eye.
(c) Livvi
Olivia Kent Jul 2014
Feeling Fruity

She stole them,
she did,
I was looking forward to a sweet refreshing nibble,
I made a giant error of judgement,
I left them on the kitchen side,
before I tumbled into bed,
I thought maybe that she had popped them in the fridge,
alas, alack I'm all at sea,
perhaps she ate them for her tea,
an entire field of strawberries,
okay, a slight exaggeration,
vanished from before my eyes.
so this morning a banana was the order of the day,
before I wash and dress myself,
and head on out to play.
well just a day at work indeed,
guess my strawberries went to seed!
(C) Livvi
Another spot of early moment nonsense
Olivia Kent Aug 2014
I want to treat you like a piece of fruit,
I want to peel off all your clothes,
I want to taste your juices.
I want to steal your pips and plant them deep,
within in my fertile garden.
I am your Eve and you my Adam,
Darling, just do as you're told,
and you can call me madam .
(c) LIVVI x
Olivia Kent Mar 2014
Medusa played with her crazy head.
Three snakes bit her, so she said.
Said "I'm having a crisis", with a cigarette, as yet unlit taking up lodging between her yellow fingers so very stained.
It grabbed at her neck, she said it was sore,the beast of madness, opened  his mouth and roared.
Wanted free bed and board, two ladies from security escorted her out.
Over the bus stop could still hear her shout!
(c) Livvi
I was at work tonight and a woman with raggedy hair came in causing psychotic chaos, she reported having all sorts of bizarre accidents. Just wanted a bed for the night I believe!
Olivia Kent Jul 2015
Everywhere I look I see sky darts flying.
Zooming noisily over my head.
Reminding me.
Matter of factly.
They don't care.
Escaping the rat race.
They couldn't care less.
That you left.
How could you desert me?
How dare you go off to be free.
One of life's adventures.
Nothing ventured.
Nothing gained.
How dare you?

How dare I have the audacity to cry?
How dare I?
Emptiness is just a state of mind.
I find myself sobbing again.
Sleep didn't work.
Work was heaven.
The perfect forget me not.
I'm ******* with family stuff.
Have a great life.
I'm feeling it tough.
At least I shan't be drowning on the bathroom floor anymore.
That's a bonus.
Mum x
My eldest daughter travels a lot...she has taken the plunge and moved to Australia...she went yesterday x Guess I'm gonna miss her x
Olivia Kent Jun 2014
A silent silhouette.
He stands starkly in private corners behind his privet hedge.
The silhouette is that of a deceased poet,
recently passed.
Felix Dennis.
He was an amazing poet.
Filled with magical words,
I will miss our one sided conversations,
the ones that hundreds enter into,
maybe someone will keep his spirit alive.
Honoured Sir,
so honoured.
May your dreams not be as vivid as your words.
For as all poets seem to do.
The words flow in while resting,
and you may not get any rest.
(C) Livvi
Felix Denis Renowned author of "Homeless in my Heart" and others.
Olivia Kent Jul 2015
Halfway to paradise.
More or less.
Every day is heavenly.
Guess I must be blessed.

The friends I have are pillars.
Standing in support.
Pillars made of marble.
Pale green with veins of ivory.

Children of adults.
Number six.
Five boys.
A girl.
Bound together by ties made out of  willow twigs.
Not weeping willow tears.

Four protective beasts have I.
One for sorrow.
Eldest boy
One for joy.
Eldest daughter.
Another daughter and a second stoic boy.

Life twists and turns.
Climbing hills and dribbling tears.
Think it's better now.
I still think maybe I should have put in more.
(c)Livvi
Olivia Kent Aug 2013
Darkness of night catches me,
Traps me in his grasp,
I grapple,
Trying desperately to avoid sleeps' sticky web,
Evasive action,
Breathe against cold night air,
Filtered through the open window,
Window to my sleepy soul,
Trying to stay alert,
Under a burning weight of two tonne eyelids,
Flicker of a mosquito shadow flickering under night's lamp illumination,
Buzzing manically,
So insane,
Heavy eyes drift,
View of shadow incessant flicking,
Vacant thoughts as topics drift,
Last shiver, quiver, jolt........,
Sleep.
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Olivia Kent Sep 2013
Fight Softly

With satin gloves in situ.
I rise up to fight.
To battle with confusion.
After poetry last night.
Your heart is full of you.
Mine is full of us

In total indecision.
From poem to poem,
Toss the coin.
Heads says you want me.
Tales say I lost.
Your tale flicks the wind.
As you run in mental disarray

Darling we're not dead yet.
No need to crumble into dust.
My heart is bleeding slowly.
A slow puncture seems to be.
Trickling claret water.
All over thee and me.
Us a strange couple.
The way it's meant to be.

You soften and say emotions rule the day.
Stating that you try.
Make comment that your heart is warming.
That indeed for love you cry.
The thaw crescendo.
Cries more every verse.
Then you cry and you feel worse.
So do I.

What we have is so perverse.
The swings hit the roundabout.
More often than not.
I shall be up to see you very very soon.
And then as one.
Remembering that.
As the things we share.
Come back once more
We shall peel the moon.
Shining knight light of love!

The spelling of tail and tale was deliberate!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Olivia Kent Apr 2016
I have a much poetic soul.
I use my pen to fill a hole.
A hole which is in fact a void.
Should I not write
I would get annoyed.
Things that irk me far too many.
If I could not ***** about religion.
Lack of it or not.
Perhaps politics.

Tiny things that really itch.
Wind me up and help me *****.
Sometimes I write of moorland walks.
Or sailing ships.
Dietary requirements the increase my hips.
Chips found sitting on my shoulder.
Like an astute vulture I'm getting older.
As my life goes onwards.
My pen is getting bolder.

I write of *** and drugs and rock and roll.
Quarter century long past.
Once upon a time a blast.
Once all flowed through the poets soul.
The poet now is quiet and sweet.
Long time since between the sheets, for anything except perfect sleep.
But I'm not bored.
I have my pen.
Time and time again.
(C) LIVVI
Olivia Kent Jan 2014
The sky is full of ***** sheets.
Billows of cloud sails in the air.
Nature forgot to put the washing on.
Those clouds are really black.

True life mother.
Well, what a twerp.
Neglected to bring the last lot in.
Still drenched from days ago.

Doesn’t really matter much.
As, when mother brings it in.
It will be really clean.
A purging fit of fury rain and wind will clean it yet again.
Although the sky is grubby.
The breeze still really fresh!
(c) Livvi x
Olivia Kent Nov 2013
Cold.
Tap tap.
Heavy tap.
Held still.
Stiff.

Airless.
Breathless.
Eyes locked shut.
Lips once kissable.
Remarkable.
Memories locked in pungent box.

Showered.
Not in wedding's.
Nor in infants in progression.
Embryonic session passed.
Life gone.
Had a blast.

Ashes to ashes.
Dust to dust.
Once was body beautiful.
Very shortly ****** dust.

By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
This is pretty dark!  I do like doing darkness at times!
Olivia Kent Nov 2013
Sorry seems a word of dishonour.
Not one you'll hear from me.
Stubborn, very stubborn.
So here I guess this mess.
Has led to stalemate
I'm sure you will agree'
At least I know my failings.
But stalking was not one.
I nod my head in acknowledgment of that.
That those highly strung wires may have tangled.
The joy we shared became totally mangled.
The messages got mixed up between the two of us.
But I cannot be dissed for that.
I will not open the mystery of our past history.
We are a closed book, what we had was special.
We loved, we had, we lost.
Such is life.

I did nothing wrong,
Certainly nothing with intention.
Except to play along.
With the well renowned king of the flirts.
In darkness, a neck bruised and tongue removed.
Left a line of chalk.
Maybe the rain will wash the line away.
Darling,
This wouldn't have happened if you talked the talk me!
You write words so eloquent.
But in spoken words let us down.
That's why we both sport a God awful frown
Runs between sweet love and hate.
I will discuss this crap no further.
Have really had enough.
To go from mate to hate is far more than tough!
Never deserved to lose a friend.
Neither of us did!
Olivia Kent Oct 2014
The riot of 14 years.
Years of broken tears.
They're rolling by.
Carrying no moss.
Screeches can you hear me.
Wants you not to  listen obviously.
She's growing.
Child to woman.
Security, must guard, at a distance.
Let the adult baby breathe.
Be there.
Be close.

The hormones flew.
A wild child
Beautiful.
A treasure.
Her heart was blue.
She was cold.
Exuberance of petty youth.
Her only fire was innocent ice.
(c) Livvi
memories of my daughters.
Olivia Kent Sep 2014
In your eyes brews a fire.
A longing to be.
You are wanting to roar.
Are you there?
Are you lost in a warehouse of spies?
You are empty?
Or are you?
Who believes in you and your heartaches  and heartbreaks?
Who postures in gestures?
Who wants to hold and caress?
Misinterpretation of death,
Guess who?
(c)Livvi
Olivia Kent Aug 2013
Fireworks!
In such a razzle dazzle fireworks flash and bash in vibrancy,
In a spectral aura of contorted colours,
Stars sparkling, noisily highlighting the sky,
Release the Gods of chaos, as on the sparks they fly,
Amid a colour scheme supreme, a total fascination,
In an argument inopportune as fireworks hit home,
In a firework of a love-struck soul my body is vibrating,

Travel on a firework fly beyond the moon,
For on a pyrotechnic dream, embark beyond those stars,
Saw rowdy fireworks the day I met you,
Still seeing them now, those flashes,
For in my heart those fireworks are popping still,
Wish I could ride upon a rocket to be with you today,
Make the fireworks flash in procession,
Let the marching band play on!

By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Olivia Kent Sep 2015
Foundations.
Building on an open spaces
Lead to loosing face.
Architects of pure disaster.
Planning not.
Consider this.
If you actually care.
Sandcastles crumble in the rain.
Melt away in a swirling seas.
Riding the tide.
Decide for once on a solid foundation.
Stop building sand castles time over again.
Sick of creating silica sandcastles .
Sandcastles wash away in the raindrops of time
Never stops.
Drips and drops.
Can't stop.
Wishes.
(c) Livvi
Inspired by students on the bus having a very loud conversation.
Olivia Kent Nov 2014
Today I have been watching women of American political persuasion.
Maybe political asylum, all the politician's are a stroke insane.
What struck me most is that these women, those vying for power are masses of smiles, or zipper tight lips.
These ladies are grinning like lunatics.
Their teeth seemingly perfect alabaster tombstones.
Their lips all shiny, sparkly, orange pink or red.
Their lips insinuating without a hair out of place.
That maybe a presidential lady, the first lady...can maybe change the United States.
I don't know I have not a clue, American politics, well it's over to you.
I hereby plead the fifth!
(C) Livvi
AMERICAN POLITICS
Olivia Kent May 2013
First Light Love!

Morning darling,
I love you,
These words I long to hear,
Early morning's wonder light,
A kiss as first light warms me,
Rescues me from past love harm,

As you snuggle into me,
You locked my heart,
You locked her tight,
Keep her always close in sight,
Maybe not in vision,
But in the recess of your mind,

Trust my wonder's sparkling aura,
Think perhaps you may adore her,
Her being me,
Not dashing free,
Skipping as a sweet treat child,
Bless me with your kisses,
Let them run for miles and miles,

I'm wedged in heaven,
Inside your arms,
So safe, but making no demands,
Awaiting open prison meeting,
Guess what!
I'm on remand,
Only got to wait till June,
Then together we can surf the moon!

By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Olivia Kent May 2013
First Light Love!

Morning darling,
I love you,
These words I long to hear,
Early morning's wonder light,
A kiss as first light warms me,
Rescues me from past love harm,

As you snuggle into me,
You locked my heart,
You locked her tight,
Keep her always close in sight,
Maybe not in vision,
But in the recess of your mind,

Trust my wonder's sparkling aura,
Think perhaps you may adore her,
Her being me,
Not dashing free,
Skipping as a sweet treat child,
Bless me with your kisses,
Let them run for miles and miles,

I'm wedged in heaven,
Inside your arms,
So safe, but making no demands,
Awaiting open prison meeting,
Guess what!
I'm on remand,
Only got to wait till June,
Then together we can surf the moon!

By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Olivia Kent May 2013
First Light Love!

Morning darling,
I love you,
These words I long to hear,
Early morning's wonder light,
A kiss as first light warms me,
Rescues me from past love harm,

As you snuggle into me,
You locked my heart,
You locked her tight,
Keep her always close in sight,
Maybe not in vision,
But in the recess of your mind,

Trust my wonder's sparkling aura,
Think perhaps you may adore her,
Her being me,
Not dashing free,
Skipping as a sweet treat child,
Bless me with your kisses,
Let them run for miles and miles,

I'm wedged in heaven,
Inside your arms,
So safe, but making no demands,
Awaiting open prison meeting,
Guess what!
I'm on remand,
Only got to wait till June,
Then together we can surf the moon!

By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Olivia Kent Oct 2014
Halfway dead.
Awoken at the end of my week.
A day off sprinkled with many missing moments  sleep.
Feeling, yes I am.
Feeling just a little hazy.
I have a weekend of brain burning learning.
I can almost feel those cogs clicking and whirring.
It's  all very novel, but I'm not writing it as one just yet.
I think I like it, but it's such an endeavour.
Once upon a time I thought I was a little clever.
Now I realise little is the only truth I speak.
I will learn.
I have faith in me, but just a tiny doubt's outstanding.
(C) Livvi
The first week of new job over....
Olivia Kent Nov 2014
We walked beside the stream.
The flow of bubbles made popping noises.
They echoed deep within our perceptions.
We watched the little fishes flow down stream..
Much too small to go on dishes.
Little darts of dashing flashing stars.
There were so many, but each seen as solo swimmers.
Looked like their water was dancing so frivolously.
They should be partners in a fishy pas de-deux.
Down on the mud patch at water's edge sat a frog.
Seemingly quivering with the cold.
Moved closer to take a look.
Plop, in he flopped.
The current carried him.
Away from our eyes.
The fish swum on, never stopping.
The frog was gone.
(C) LIVVI
I love walking by the river.
Olivia Kent Aug 2015
I woke up from a dream, in which I met an old lady, who was such a *****.
My grandson, who is two ate fish fingers from a plate, as he sat in the luggage rack at the front of the bus.
The old lady got off chuntering and muttering, that he shouldn't be eating fingers made out of fish, as he was sat on the bus.
****** woman picked them of and stole them straight from his plate,
Muttering, that it was disgusting eating fish fingers while sat on the bus.
"Listen here mate, that's wholly inappropriate", said I.
Somehow resisting the urge to punch her in the eye.
I cursed and cussed and I gave her my worst.
While my grandson, just sat still on the bus, still a little bemused
He's not used to old lady's pinching his food.
She got off the bus, after facing my daggers, just looks, as I don't often cook.
She had the audacity to steal his tea, apart from bits of verbal conflict, got off ****** scot free she did.
My grandson, he just looked up at me, after squishing the remnants into my knee.
My most expensive rain coat is now in need of washing.
I'm wondering now who'll be fitting the bill.
My heart melting grandson looked straight into my eyes.
At the end of this story, he's the perfect prize.
But he's still a little hungry, as she stole his fish fingers.
And this silly bit of prose is just a pack of silly lies.
Made up as the result of a dream, I just had.
Here's hoping you enjoyed my tale.
It's pouring with rain and blowing a gale.
Probably the noise it drew me from sleep.
The times when dreams are prevalent.
When fantasy from dreams be inventive and put to wholly good use.
(c)Livvi
Olivia Kent Apr 2015
Sat on the bridge.
Legs dangling, swinging in the breeze.
Look closely and little skittish fishes flying like sunlit darts.
Throwing twigs in, so naughty is what we are.
We just love watching them drifting and riding the tide.
Oh look, there's a bigger fish, not a minnow or a stickleback, a little trout maybe.
Gone to quickly, won't be tonight's tea.
A flash of vibrant colour.
Faster than light.
The strike of the kingfisher.
Doubtlessly he caught our trout.
(c)Livvi
Olivia Kent Sep 2015
Not empty, but vacant.
Gravel crunched on chilly slabs.
Snakes curl from Medusas head.
Emotionless wreck, not far from dead.
The roses scattered on the floor.
Once were black, they are no more.
They are blue, pale blue.
Knowing you are not to blame.
But somehow I still do.
Caught like a wriggling fish,
After fly fishing.
Fisherman, you are just for eating and you landed here upon my dish.
Eating is all you are good for.
Not worth loving any more.
Pile on the chips,
Just a little down.
Bring on the salt and vinegar,
And a chip fork with a tongue!
(c)Livvi
Olivia Kent Sep 2015
Sonny caught a fish last night.
Went off angling over night.
In the freezer.
Out of sight.
Don't what sort it is.

It's laid upon ice.
Unwrapped.
Yuck.
Fish façade fixed.
Frozen stiff.
Cooking the poor thing is out of the question.
Unable to cook,
Nor to prepare.
The thought of bone removal, decapitation.
Revolting thought.
Although I'm very proud of him, I wish he hadn't caught.
I prefer my fish bought, not caught.
Fish make me squirm.
Taste good tho.
Got any suggestions?
Have no idea what is this fish.
If I hadn't woken up.
I probably would have kissed said fish.
Son's idea of a joke.
Not my choice.
Pen's my voice.
Glad I awoke when I did.
(c)Livvi
Olivia Kent Sep 2015
She sits.
Wondering how to reach the sky.
A fix of magic tricks.
To make her fly.
She'll cry for it.
Lie for it.
Maybe even die for it.

She sighs for it.
You can see it in her saucer eyes.
She's flying at last.
What happened yesterday's only the past.

Sky scraping.
Risk taking.
Meat hooks.
***** looks.

Bouncing on pavements with forbidden ones.
Daughters together and unholy sons.
Sniffing a thin line.
A hit, at a wild time.
It caught her badly.
Cut to ribbons.

Bites with sickness.
Bleeding out silently.
Mellow sounds of Stevie Nicks.
Beat through her brain, like kettle drums.
Living life supporting bums.
The gorgeous dolly.
Off her trolley.
Biscuit crumbs.
Missing mums.

Snatching supreme highs.
At the back of her chemical eyes.
Defiantly deviant.

For the life she once had retreated inside.
Her very soul defeated.
By the touch of the dealer man.
She beaten inside and out.

Uppers and downers.
Picks up out of townies.
And she's a singer.
Her song is sung for punters.

A taster.
A sample of what they're gonna get.
She looks at her discarded needles.
Set of works that work.
Another ugly fella.
Just another ****.

The working girl she goes berserk.
Ask her, she'll tell ya.
She's just gotta work.

Jupiter's rising.
Ecstatic moon.
Needs another hit now, it's hellish too soon
Slaps on her heels.
Finds appalling man, somehow appealing.

She plays for the pimple who stranded her there.
She no longer feels.

Life ebbing out of her.
Sold her soul for rock 'n' roll.
Questions the beautiful place that she lingers in.
Not beautiful.
Abysmal.
Dismal.
No choice.
Her song always the same, has little choice.

The singer wants her song to stop, but just can't find her voice.
Drugs sicken her.
Money all spent.
Stand up.
Be counted.
****** repent.
You bet ya, she can't.
Stuck in a hole, with a drug ridden soul.
Hunting for dragons, in the back of their wagons.
A ***** for old rope, a little more dope.
(c) Livvi
Olivia Kent Dec 2013
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
Olivia Kent Sep 2013
Don't f++k  with my heart.
You broke it apart.
Torn it to ribbons of tainted flesh.
Cardiac muscle shoved through the masher.
Knots in white hanky.
Tied them for who.
He never knew.
With sweet tender words written on lace.
In a loyal heart  he will always have space!
Olivia Kent Jun 2014
She stood in the dock,
a ruddy gibbering wreck,
very flushed and very frightened,
The stern judge was a vulture,
dreams of chewing her flesh,
Counsel for the prosecution,
was a rather noisy crow,
In her defence,
an eagle stood,
Clutching close her feathered brood.
the courtroom clerk a budgerigar,
with yellow breast,
and mottled feathers,
chatting and typing litotes,
although not really listening.
The defendant for the trial today,
was a bright pink flamingo,
with googly legs and googly eyes,
that poured out such pink tears,
the way the case was going on,
well,
she could be locked away for years,
the jury consisted of mockingbirds,
who laughed at everything they heard,
the evidence was null and void,
not really heard above the noise.

Having heard what he could of the evidence,
the vulture judge got rather cross,
he called upon a dove,
"members of the jury,
we have to acquit  this pretty flamingo,
because I believe that I'm in love".
(c)Livvi
Olivia Kent Mar 2015
The garden flourished, as life were nourished.
Produced as roses in the patch.
A beautiful product incited.
Exciting chemical involvement.
Chemical created a beast of a mountain.
Already for climbing.
Failing without ******'s tender stroke.
A dysfunctional fellow...poor chap.
No joke!
(C) LIVVI
Olivia Kent Jun 2016
Sparkles, pollen sprinkles.
My how the garden grows,
Pink flowers, diminutive blue flowers, only periwinkles.
Smell the scent of garden flowers wafting neath thy nose.

Bumblebees and honey pots.
Flowers and foliage.
Red and orange, pale love it lingers, forget me nots.
Garden flowers, wild flowers, sunny skies, all the rage.

Butterflies and honey bees.
Alighting on the petals bright.
Bees with pollen sacks, strapped around their knees.
Keeping the garden growing right.

With but a dash of rainwater, flowers tended by thy daughter.
Flowers in the precious garden growing as they ought ta.
(c)LIVVI
Olivia Kent May 2014
The garden flourishes,
Fed with sunny smiles,
The flora watered only,
by the kiss of butterfly ,
The grass whines on relentlessly,moaning only, when beaten by the shears,
The strimmer strums and bumbles buzz,
For,underneath the ballustrade,
Especially positioned,
lay at peace.
The bones of mortals.
Fertilizing, the peaceful garden, hiding inside the cemetery.
Complete with pearly gates.
Blooming beautiful.
(c) Livvi
Olivia Kent Sep 2013
Greatly they stand as marionettes.
Minus strings.
Seemingly dancing over the relic of the shack.
Live two doors down from me.
Stuck in a garden of neglect
As an escapade of string free dancers.
Seemingly perform a ballet of their own.
Tossed about in autumn breeze.
Still tower above the smaller trees.

They sway in the rhythm of the wind.
Family of four.
Faces liken to dinner plates with seedy smiles.
Standing tall and stooping down.
As if performing to a crowd.
A family of flower folk.
Papa, mama, teenager and infant.
Sway the afternoon away.
Until the frosts scare them away!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
The sunflowers out the back are my inspiration for today!
Olivia Kent Dec 2013
Flowers!

My baby bought me flowers.
Lilac roses.
They were terrific.
As terrific as virtual 'Triffids'.


My love, such beautiful flowers.
He thought he could eat me.
He said he loved me so.
Next thing that I knew.

I was  his plant food.
A little fertile fertilizer.
Fed to those roses nearly blue.

Closer I went.
Moved up to study those passion flowers.
Up close and personal.

So wanted to smell those roses of lilac.
As lilac roses meant true love.

The one I thought I'd found.
That wouldn't break my heart again.

Instead that rose it bit my nose.
Gave me loads more pain.
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Humour!
Olivia Kent Jun 2016
Flowers reach for heaven to feel the rippling rain.
To ****** the sun on cooler days.
Above the snow those flowers grow, protected petals,
Avid flower lovers steal them.
Put them in glass vases.
Give them to mothers or lovers.
A simple gift that means the world.
Or better still keep them well pressed between the heavy books.
While man is given flowers, the world will be alright.
Bright and stunning, ad infinitum.
May flowers always grow.
(C) LIVVI
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