A million stars sparkling outside in the gloom.
So beautifully gleams the sky of night.
While sleepers sleep impeccably within the realms of rest in peace.
Tomorrow shall they arise again.
As bright as sparkling diamonds

Once more to face the daily strain.
Daily toils, once more.
Of potentially going to war.
Hopping on commuter trains.
Like penguins up for catching fish.
Served up on a guilt edged dish.
Poor Michael, he was one you know.
Laughed at the fact.
That the wind wouldn't blow.
Who remembers poor old Michael Fish?

War in the city.
Where politicians swing as pendulums.
The wind in the house the hot type.
Emitted from many stuck up butts.
Whiffs and Whigs.
Broken twigs.
No notice paid to issues green .
In service of H.M the Queen.

Don't know what they're voting for.
A few rude words spoken.
A group of noisy chaps so ******.
A gang of wild animals.
They're starting to squabble.
Politicians party.
Unholy rabble.

Reading speeches from notes.
Prepared by someone else.
The lady of the house.
Picked up the latest speech.
Just a little p*ssed.
He didn't grab his speech at all.

Was just a shopping list.
Stood up on the podium,
Check out his change in mood.
His most profound of words.
Was just a list of food.

Queer as a fish.
Hate to say.
The nicer ones, just merely gay.
They're just as queer as kippers are.
Vocal politicians supporting the bar.

Debate over.
Time to head home.

Steps into the ministerial car.
The tatty black car,
Heap of scrap metal.
Press car in pursuit.
Put your foot hard to the pedal.
Another boo boo, that nobody missed.
The p.m's speech and the shopping list.
(c)LIVVI

Changing  preordained judgement of chivalrous prince,
Judgement of a man with a brain on fire,
Imagination, awe inspired,
Not always charming in writing,
Prince Charming to me...!
Most charming!
He was a prince charming,
My Prince Charming,
Was shown nothing  but grace and love,
Invaded his space,
For a week and a piece,
I truly was his sugar and lace,
I still am,
In heart and mind and dreams, still so close
He was nothing more than gentleman,
Although, many think him mental man,
He is an awesome writer,
For  in this his realm I do defend,
This dark writing man,
Showed nothing of the blackness,  
In which he delights,
His fierce pen, he wields in spite,
Sharp as vicious stiletto heel,
Piercing hearts,
Although his writes are often black,
Inside his heart is ****** white,
Pure with imagination and pen  pushing power!
Copyright, Olivia Kent 27/04/2013.

The garden gnomes with frocks on,
They're sat in the room at the front of the house,
Fishing rods in hand,
They came in because of the chilly wind, blasting round their socks,
The fish pond's overflowing after all the rain,
The neighbours were much too noisy,
Partied in the garden, every night and every day.
And here they go again.
They're hungry, no fish to catch in the lounge.
(C) Livvi

Looking at hazy purple through bright pink eyes.
Dancing with soldier ants.
What a surprise.
Tickling yellow in a chilled out way.
Friday the last working day.
Off out to play.
Basking in the golden sun.
Fun day.
Breathing the green grass.
It's making me sneeze.

On oceans of blue.
The navy sails.
Warships, submariners.
Ensigns flying.
Blown on the wind
England expects.
Dare have no regrets of sailing the seas.
Nor flying the skies.
Surfing the internet.
Hunting hatred disguised
In generalised chatter.
A plane flies overhead.
Drops a bomb.
Boom boom, foreign friends dead.
Glad I'm indoors.
(c)Livvi

Black Clouds are punching their way through the heavens,
They’re changing shape like blackened ravens.
The wind is tickling the bushes, but I see no laughter,
I hear no voices,
Just a rustle while the breeze teases the grass.
The greenery bends in respect of the wind.
The witch is cooking up a brew,
A brew of green running in soon to occur strands of stew,
The starting storm and the rain melts the grass,
The garden soon to be a sodden melee of muddy passion.
I see it only from my window,
I’m the widow of the garden,
Since the pollen blew.
(C) LIVVI

Give me love intravenously,
Love is my drug,
Injected by fairies,
Helping cupid on his rounds,
Me thinks his arrows went astray,
Somehow!
Punctured my heart,
She lies bleeding,
In muddles puddle,
Fractured dreams,
Encased in rose-hips hard,
Wrapped in shell of silver,
Tinged in green,
Rosebuds open,
Love blooms again,
Magnificent technicolour,
Dreams stated,
In this land,
Bereft, berated,
Jesus wept,
This thing called love is over-rated,
Really isn't all that great !
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

In my brain there lives a pen,
in the ink flowing through the pen lives a poem,
In my brain lives a lively pen,
and it's dying to write again.
(C) Livvi

Injustice!
Posted by Olivia Kent on June 4, 2013 at 3:11pm
View Blog
Suffer not thy children,
In a waiter service world of injustice,
Nothingness in a world of tragic poverty,
In a drizzle of tears,
The children drown
Emaciated children,
Not smiling as they die,
In world of war-craft,
Dying,
A little more each day,  
Not smiling as they should,
Punished,
Living in a punitive  world of cruelty,
Where craft of war is rife,
Screams,
Imagined in heads of strangers,
Insanity,
Piercing with horror,
Ears sickened,
By violent imagery envisaged,
Emaciated child,
*** bellied,
Gaunt,
Virtually lifeless,
Dead before death,
Snatches,
Life blood vanished,
Without request!
There is no youthful exuberance on this face,
Overjoyed,
Delighted,
I don't live in this place!
Copywrite Livvi Kent 04/06/2013

The poetic heart got broken.
A million shards of glass were ground.
Words of all profound.
Written with an ink pen,
of purely mice and men.
Her pen once was a feather,
stolen from a mother swan,
Tip honed to an arrow head,
Thrown from a bow,

The writers notes are passing by.
With courtesy and a bow.
They're showering ink in passing,
as the clouds are painted black,
rimmed with fading memories.
Can be no turning back.
Clouds are burst by writer's pen,
Thunderous hail of broken glass,
of fierce wind and rain.
Writing tales of past loves,
On pavements once again.
(C) Livvi

Enchanted being remember.
When the world is cloaked in black.
Away, She shall not send him.
She will never turn her back.
Will maybe make his black turn blue.
Should the world be cloaked in green.
Renew a world of golden hue.
Remember, she is never mean.
When he stops and thinks.
Through rose painted glasses, wonderfully pink.
Remembers at times when he is sick, rather yellow.
Feeling somewhat crazy.
Think of the lady who is so very mellow.

There once was such a love,
A love blogged, out by one so ill,
Stephen you were a hero,
May you rest in easy peace,
Brave up until the very end,
Stephen Sutton, people's friend.
Pray  let the money that you so bravely raised,
Help to see  violence of cancer erased, obliterated, annihilated.
May death give you  blessed rest.
Night night!
(C) Livvi

In an evening,
Washed with love,
Writing,
Tranquility and thunder in one afternoon,
Like fresh laundry,
Clean,
Newly refreshed,
Invigorated
New life's lease!
Raring and excitable,
As wild child plays,
Wallowing,
In styles novel!
Provoked into action,
While arrows fly,
Origami swans created,
Folded wings tinged with pastel tints,
Dripped from loves pipette!
A miracle constructed,
From twisted paper,
Origami swan can't fly,
Unless caught on gentle breeze,
Gentle breeze,
Brings allergens sneeze!
Captured in sunlight's mesh,
Studied through patterns from a picture book,
Designed with child in mind!
COPYRIGHT LIVVI KENT 27/05/2013,

The witch finder general he came to seek them out.
His mistake when innocent witches.
The innocent ones his soul did take.
Dunked Nanna in the ducking pool.
Dragged aunt to Manning Tree.

Wanted to started a mega pyre for the likes of thee and me.
In archaic land of treachery in the land of treason.
Sweet virgins crucified with no justified reason.
Mother turned the milk sour.
Daddy was a warlock.
Brother was magic man.
Kept his grimoire by his bed.
Family of innocence.
Witches innocent,
Spitting fire now deceased after the flames.
Wanted the witch finder's mortal remains.
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Forgiven and forgotten.
Poor chap.
A misfit in a memory.
Wearing just a jester's hat.

Playing with his tickle stick.
Thinks he is lacking a memory card.
At such great cost.
Upon the knees of bees.
He doth crouch.

Waiting for the axe to fall.
To lighten his burden.
'Off with his head', the queen of red said.
To respond to natures' call.
Waiting for a dismal end.

Where hanging out the let's pretends.
To blow away and make amends.
Says goodbye to his beautiful friends.
On his journey into the unknown.
Flying away in his star propelled craft.
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Insatiable (Adult Piece)


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

Insatiable (Adult Piece)

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

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Insatiable (Adult Piece)

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

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

A shooting pain fires down her arm.
A spot of magic, not a charm.
An arm that suffers muscular bites.
Obviously right.
Over used, in writes abuse.
Actually it hurts a tad, guess it must be cause she's bad.
A wild old witch, just a tad sad.
She has auburn hair, not ruby, as once was preconceived.
She dances not with devils, nor treads on angels toes, but the soothes the brows of wild ones as her nature's juxtaposed.
Only when she writes however; for she hath a tender touch, a gentle nature. For in the world of real land, she is really gentle, but when her pen plays upon the boards, she comes out rather mental!
(C) Livvi

Paling into insignificance,
Surrounded by sullen words with teardrops' touch!
A kiss to lift Monday from Sundays' doldrums,
Support mechanism of honour,

For one with caring hearts vengeance,
Vengeance not needed to sate dark souls desire,
Fly through petrol filled skies,
Full anger in affirmation,
Sky heart ablaze,
Burning cyclical sun storms,

Fire strikes back!
Soothed and caressed by angel's touch,
Touche,
Washes toxic tears away!
By ladylivvi1

Welcome unto midnight,
Be speared upon a cloudy sky,
See those planets hanging there,
mesmerize your sleepy eyes.

Welcome unto two a.m.
Sleep won't let you,
Not again.
Sleep those dreams and dream of sleep,

Welcome unto four a.m.
Toss once or twice,
Roll around as, early morning moss,
For sleep deprived, as morning comes,
Energy your only loss,

Welcome unto six a.m.
Shake and wake and rise again,
The light creeps silently through the gap in your pale yellow curtains,
One things for certain, as the light nips through the curtain gaps,
The morning's here, no time for naps!
(C) Livvi

Sleepless in the city.
The storming night cabs flying by.
The youth are making a racket.
Not a tennis match in sight.
Floodlights pollute the night sky.
Even the stars hide.
Can't abide the sleepless night.
Drunken teenaged revellers.
Revolting noisily outside my house.
Our tomorrow's,
Insomniac sorrows.
Start of academia.
The freshers are here.
(c)Livvi

Into the old cold ground a body planted.
Within the deceased body lay memories.
Silently asleep.
Maybe mother Earth emits, the mental words that once upon a time existed.
Thought patterns linger always here.
They haunt the deathly hallows.
The breeze flicks the branches upon the trees,
carrying ancient recollections.
Smell the essence in the air,
Previous graveyard lovers who once lived there.
Feel the attentive chill of the past,
Floating errant souls hang low.
Impromptu glow.
An invaded atmosphere.
Breathe in the air of inspiration.
And slowly walk away.
Glad that living, onward curls.
(C) Livvi

Walking in thunderstorms.
Throw back the rain.
Insidious icicles run down my spine.
Falling as hailstones.
All hail the king.

The king is a proud man.
A very profound man.
Lyrical, vocal.
Dark haired and deep.
He'll write me a love song.
I'll pen one for he.
I may  never be lyrical, but my words flow for free.
Him and me!
(c) Livvi

Going up the road,
A front of sorrows space,
Where sweet kisses of coldness,
Touch the self in side,
One inside another,
Kisses blown on lightnings spark,
While breaking free,
From storms,
Once so very dark,

Brewing hot as coffee ***,
Rich filled with quality,
Quenches all desires,
Love peruses as she browses,
The carousel of love,
Powered up by fairy dust,
In sparkled sprinkles,

Remarkable indeed,
Magic powder,
Power felt,
Chucked from impish fairy globe,
In an orb of inspiration
Blessed!
By ladylivvi1
© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

She has spirit,
A spirit that speaks without voice,
Emotion in a fantasy,
She'll stroke your soul and play for you,
She'll play you a solo symphony in an orchestra alone,

She's sweet on you,
her perfect life, she'll give for you,
She is the ****** angel,
who's halo,
never slipped,
she wants you,
come and get her,
pick her up,
grab her,
sweep her off her feet,
the lady needs a treat.
(C) Livvi

Furious, spurious, sets hell on fire,
I hate you with all of my heart,
I spit in your treacherous face, you sweet *****,
in my life you are just a minimal glitch,
I hate you with passion,
like it went out of fashion,
My pen wants to lash you to bits,
My talons are out,
This monster is green, it wants to get out,
I'm  a killing machine, on the loose!
Feeling so vengeful, so full of spite,
The lady in blue, is an angel in white,
Sleep well in your bed, as you sleep overnight,
Lock yourself away,
Right out of my sight!!!
(Most of all, remember please,  that this is just my attempt at a really dark write!)
Copyright, Livvi  20/03/2013.

At the end of the world there's hole with a door.
The door has a key, should you want to break free.
If your smiles have died, if you don't want to live.
To find the key to door.
At the end of the world.
If you really, don't want to live any more.

You must firstly, climb up the purple mountains and steal some eagles wings,
Maybe a brood of eggs as well and clutch them to you heart.
Initially, the idea is really rather strange.
Of climbing mountains just to die.
When you have your eagles wings,
When all the tiny birdies sing.
You may, yes you may.
Fly down the edge to the parapet of much regret, upon which you must sit a while.

Analyse your thoughts of death, write them on your mini-pad, the one all poets hold at heart and always keep stuffed in their satchel.
I'm sure you know it.
Leave them on the cliff edge, for a.n.other to read.
Spread the message of what you did.

Pop your wings back in place.
Soar through the sky with perfect grace.

Go to the shop at the end of the world and ask the proprietor for the key.
So you can get out, cause you want to break free!
The shopkeeper, said with a sad and sorry face, "I'm sorry love, the last one took it with them, and didn't bring it back".
Locksmiths, don't keep spare keys for the door at the end of the world.
"So, I 'm sorry I can't help you, would you like a cup of Rosy Lee.
You can unburden your issues, shift them to me".
After the wild flight from the top of the mountain.

A cup of tea from his cheerful fountain, was just she needed.
All that flying and writing had cleared her mind.
She flew back home.
When you hear the calls of eagles in flight, remember the fact the end is in sight,
Not in the cafe at the end of the world.
But, a good conversation and a stroke of pen and poetry.
Release your mind, a true catharsis!
(C) Livvi

You looked into my  eyes from across the crowded bar.
Enslaved by spellbinding attention.
Chemistry present but never passed a spoken word.
You left.
I left.
United hearts very alone.
Untied.
And still the music plays it's tune within my head.
St Valentine plucks at my very merry heart.
(c) Livvi

World wide.
War brewing.
Freaking out.
Freaking evil.
The ******* that burnt.
May they be burned in the forthright land of ******* hell.
A bubbling *** of discontent.
Chechen hell.
Iraq and Syria.
Cultivation a culture of fear.
Taken by the hand.
Led straight into war.
(c)Livvi

You or I could be lepers.
Or hideously deformed.
If we are it shouldn't matter.
Photography, mixed up and twisted.
Reborn.
Pictures misted.
Just who are you chatting to today?
Mentally.
physically.
internet voices.
Distorted.
Misinformed choices.
Maybe just genuine liars,
Getting kicks.
Turning tricks
Preying on others.
Taking the biscuit.
You could be an angel
Or one who follows you on cycle paths,
(PSYCHOPATHS)
Mental health issues falling out off your ears.
No problem with mental health issues.
Been there.
Done it.
Or better still put them onto your paper.
Best place to put them.
If you ask me.
Maybe a sliver of communion wafer.
Selling religion for half a crown.
Maybe half a silver dollar.
Ripping you off.
While doffing his hat.
Pretending to be,
What you can't see.
Words of naïveté.
From she who is down.
Unless you really know the one on the screen.
Be ever so careful and I'm not being mean.
(c) Livvi MMCV

It's 1003.
Wells of tears dwell in my tired eyes.
I do,
Hereby declare,
A full proclamation.
I'm sat on the blade of a firebrands knife.
Anticipating,
Trepidation.
May the bells ring true.
The bringer of joy.
I'm sleep deprived.
Read a book to enable rest.
My bedside lamp touched on and off.
Not enough to let me rest.
Tossed and turned.
The waiting's the worst.
My heart,
it's pumping so hard it may burst,
it won't fortunately.
I'm almost praying,
and I don't pray,
the response to the interview tumbles my way.
I find that writing it out,
will clear my mind.
Que sera sera!
(C) Livvi

In the 80's!

In the 80's they ran.
The petrified black diamonds.
From the mines of Africa.

Chased by near **** oppressors.
The white guys...supreme...?
No chance.
Tried to play apartheid games vicious of cruelty.
Smoking out the black guys.
Locking them in evil segregation.
Beaten and battered with no choice!
At the end the white *******
With the miserable voices.
Lost soul control.
When apartheid was destroyed.
11th February,
Released set free.
Nelson Mandela.
Father of dignity.
We need to remember under the skin.
That we are still kith and kin.

By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Night-time falls inside my heart.
As if a playwright,  sketching a plot.
Dotting the i and crossing the ts.
Or crossing the eyes and coming to tea.
Night-time is a sad time.
Or maybe it's not.
A time during which yesterday passed and tomorrow's to visit.
At least I hope it is.
I have not contemplated a will.
Perhaps it's because I have nothing, no nothing at all.
Life is exciting, I'm having a ball.
Life is confusing I'm fighting the dark.
My eyes falling open, I'm feeding the spark, or the spark's feeding me.
Again thoughts devour me, I'm down on my knees.
Thoughts invade my head as I slip into bed, or fall from it.
Nothing's sinister or mad, just a poet wearing my poet's head and hat.
Want the world to know what I think of this or muse on that.
Today my friends, I declare indeed I wear said poet's hat, quite the nicest hat that I possess, it possesses me too.
(c)Livvi

The garden of remembrance sprung into life.
Yesterday's pleasant silence has died.
Today, the puffed up, speckled sky contains a breeze, makes all things bend.
They bend not or fall, nor doth the rain drop.
The breeze today tickles with touch of a child and the trees all seem to laugh.
A fox breached the morning at the break of dawn, almost rubbing his eyes and starting to yawn.
Back to his den through the long grass he ran, under the fence and through next door, looked up again and saw him no more.
Nipped up the garden a little bit wet; went out to seek his route of escape, followed his paw prints right up to the last, but with the daybreak there came a dead end; makes me wonder if I'll see him again.
Perhaps, just perhaps, he heard my dog, coming huffing and puffing off out for release of this morning river.
(C) LIVVI 2014

What an intriguing opportunity a trip to Rose Cottage,
Sure sounds magical to me,
It's not a woodland haven or a diminutive house by the shore,
Came out from anaesthetist's trip,
I drifted, in and out,
A crazy dream it seemed,
Woke in rose pink room,
Thought I hadn't made it through,
For in the land of work,
A flip side of such a romantic image seen,
Rose Cottage, delightful though it sounds is life's penultimate stop called mortuary,
Before undertaking on one final trip,
Final destination, last stop guaranteed!

I wrote this as I left work after work and heard a porter discussing coming to take a patient to 'Rose Cottage'......It made me think....Hence writing this....and the anaesthetic bit is true...Freaked me out at the time!! Livvi **
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Innocent child you stand in the rain.
Momma is stranded, bus late again.
You wipe away tears.
Year after year.
Still you sit.
Silently waiting.
The quiet is grating.
Air hangs heavy.
Atmosphere of no fear.
You had no recollection of that accident.
Tragically both of you taken.
You knew not.
A clump of forget-me-nots cluttered the road edge.
Today you still stand.
Not realising the hovering dark clouds are just a mere disguise.
A swirling storm, a whirling tornado.
Momma came home.
Carried back on the wind.
It rocked.
She captured your hand, held safely in hers.
Another quick twist, both of you gone.
(c)Livvi

Waves of  words wash such pain away.
Tropical seas of passion bathe the sacred soul with tears.
May words be an ingested tincture.
Let love be a topical cream, to be rubbed in daily.
Smell the salts of magical moments,let them keep the being inside alive.
For a piece of forever.
(c) Livvi

She sits in her chair with life's light in her eyes,
Lower body unable but a heart that's alive.
Brain full of fire not so long ago,but where did her legs go?
They were taken out by the fierce force of enemy fire.

He sits in his chair, the one without wheels,
With a brain turning somersaults, head over heels.
He wasn't injured, but disturbance was deep, as he bore witness to memories deep.
He drowns in the images in his mind's eye.

She cries for him, as a gentleman lost.

He cries over her cos, he never stops crying.
They once were a couple, so loyal and true.
Remnants of war made both of them bleed.
© LIVVI

The ice maiden cometh.
Partied with her sun, perhaps.
A warning perhaps.
As continents are getting hotter
Encountered solar flash.
As in the atmosphere burns.
Icy spirits fly through December's sullen skies.

Eyes all out for Ison.
To see if she survived suns purge.
Or if like Earth she is destroyed.
Evaporated into gas!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

They're sticky you know,
so sticky and hot,
they boot the ball with all they've got,
management in full attendance,
dressed in suits and floppy hats,
the England players,
such poor little fellers,
only used to British weather,
they drip as they stick to the pitch,
playing football in this weather,
hell must be such a *****,
these poor chappies can't wear sun hats,
or lay on mats,
acquiring a tan.

Who do we think will carry the cup?
well probably not us,
the founding nation of the game,
in temperate Britain,
always the same,
In England they may have  stood a chance,
but in subtropical stadia,
it's all a merry dance!
(c) Livvi

Jealousy one of those negative emotions.
Gods and monsters, saints and sinners.
In love of life, with not many winners.
Amore, the winner for sure.
Victorious on a summers day.
The green eyed poet.
Within the spirit of jealousy.
Chaotic memories.
Irritating, needing scratching.
Maybe a cat with parasites.
Jealousy, such a negative emotion.
(c) Livvi

You are the flame in my heart that keeps me alive.
You are the blood, the force of sweet life.
You are my oxygen.
I thrive on thoughts of you.
I left my hat on the train.
You chased me.
You gave it back again.
We sat and we spoke and versed in fun.
We smiled, we hugged and two became one.
Then you left and I became none.
It's cold outside.
It's cold within.
You came along and got under my skin.
(C) Livvi

It is with sadness that I report today.
My fellow poet has flown away.
Collected by angels carrying guitars.
Transported him beyond the stars.
I have to bade goodbye today.
To Dominique Laine, who has flown away.
I shall miss silly phone and daft bits of chat.
Dom, sweet Dom, eternal sleep brings an end to all that.
May you rest in peace forevermore.
Goodbye my friend.
So glad I got to meet you even tho was only once.
(c)LIVVI

Morning so chilly it broke.
Fragile and rather dark.
Too nippy to want to move.
From my bed.
Early morning here.
Just fed my head.
To go to to work to give my love to those who matter.
The ones who feed me bread and butter.
On the first coffee of my exciting day.
I sit, I choke, I splutter!

This morning a morning of peeping up bottoms.
An afternoon of those with blood cancer.
My day as a patient romancer.
Going to be such a great day.
Like hell it is.
But good morning anyway.
I hope you all enjoy your day.
Or rest well depending on the time your way!
Livvi 10/12/2013.

Precious as ivory, that's what you are.
Illegal to possess you.
You hold tight.
You fight.
A connection very rare.
A guarded soul.
Jaded sculpture.
It is not the end of the world.
You know.
Well you'd like to think.
Promises once made, now broke.
Plasticene promises.
Built from innocence.
It's only your towers that are ivory.
(C) Livvi

I Wish I Was an Actress!

My life is a play,
Each day a scenario,
For I feel I live in a dream each day,
Life is a fantasy of description,
In richness and in wealth,
Encounter every issue,
Face every stumbling block that's met,
In a fetching encapsulating image of imagination,
My life has been a tragedy, a drama of life entwined,
From goodness and joy to darkened caves,
A drama from whence whose demons,
Now vacated my mind!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Welcome to la la la land.
Let the music play on.
Saturday's dawned.
Friday's all gone.
Left overs of Friday in the bin.
The lust of last Friday, got under the skin.
Saturday's back, off out to play.
A night of blessed sweet jazz.
Jazz music with friendship, all that pizzazz.
(c) Livvi

Rips me to pieces,
tears through my soul,
A monster of hate,
I do truly create!
Nails in my back,
archangel attacks...,
It's all cloak and dagger, I find,
I stand tall, controlling,
it's a fight with such might,
'Tis not quizzical...
comes on a whim,
A bite of desire leaves us in a mire,
we wallow,
with no desire to swallow,
Filth, it spouts through eyes only seen ....
world through spectacles tainted with green,
Monster she leeches,
her fangs razor blades,
When your inner soul she comes and invades, screaming vile tirades,
She's just a witch, she's  truly a *****....
She gets in your face putting chaos in place!
Guess what, nobody cares,
when jealousy comes to her selling her wares!
Jealousy will **** what we have if she can!
Won't let her in, I won't let her win,
She won't knock me dead,
cos my heart is bled,
wrung out and now,
totally dead!
(C) Livvi