Went to the moon on a Monday.
When the moon was full.
So I could meet the man.
To eat his cheese and hear his ******
So I could watch the lunatics.
Down upon his mother earth.
Dancing madly.
Viewed only through his noble eyes.

Went while the world slept.
Soundly in the noiseless void
The place was cold.
Lacked atmosphere.

The only satellite near.
I fancied a pint.
Was feeling rather dry.
However I was out of luck.
No-one on the moon sold beer.
He's just languishing.
Only drinking in the midnight skies.

Went to the moon on a Tuesday.
While his was just a half.
Tried to balance of the edge.
But all he did was laugh.
In darkness I did hide.
Lost somewhere went off wandering.
Walking lonely on the darker side.

Went to the moon on Wednesday.
Wednesday was wonderful.
Watched moonlight catch the sun.
In an aura,
An orange holy glow.

Went to the moon on Thursday.
Thought it would be so much fun.
Hiding in the moonlight away from midday sun.

Went to the moon on Friday.
Fancied being free.
Put my high heels on.
So I could just be me.
Kick up non-existent stones,
Have a magic float.
Gravity my missing friend.
Can never hold me down.


Went to the moon on Saturday.
Escaped the what's the matter day.
Never work on Saturday.
Danced on the moon on Sunday.
Partied on til Monday came.
Down to Earth as work's begun!



By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

My shadow is full of moonlight.
I caught it in a sunbeam, stashed it beneath my floppy hat.
Tis the light of my life.
My my how it shines.
Because it's mine.
It doesn't mind, it doesn't matter.
By the power of the densest winter, I'm just the mad hatter.
My diverse shadow is happy, as he languishes under my hat.
(C) LIVVI

My shadow seems to follow me, into the nether world, tween sleep and wake, rather wrecked, being tired does that to me.
And as I fight to stay alert my eyelids hurt, they struggle to defeat this night with perfect sprite.
A living flame.
Keen and burning.
Eyes are yearning for the sight and mind of moody moon tonight.
Keen in spirit, not in mind,as night-time colonises my brain.
Staying alert but, a bitter pain, for which no pills can take this ill.
Doubt I'll ever see it again.
My mortal endeavour, one in a million, to see Diana blaze in vermilion.
A gorgeous dress I'm sure she'll sport.
Witnessed only, should I not be caught.
In realms of sleep or I shall weep, for missing the event of the lunatic season.
Without a **** good reason.
(c)Livvi

***-po said the funny sun, as it hid behind the tree.
Kerb stones took the mickey, they said they needed cleaning.
Patio so pretentious dared, dared to be dream of being used.
Awaiting very desperately, the bringing of the springtime sun.
Well, they've had a **** good scrub.
Garden was in so much pain, drowning in this flaming rain.
The sun has got it jacket on, no water to extinguish it and take its smile away.
****** weather!
(C) LIVVI

A change in the times,
That runs with the bees,
She screaming for mercy,
Hear her pleas.

She dances with devils,
In  front of the moonlight,
Walking down the back roads, in forests of the night
And onwards,
we rove,
through the **** lemon grove.
And so she  glows,
with sunlight sparkling on her nose.

She lost all her trust,
Her love it got bust, cost her a lot,
But she can't, run and hide,

She cannot live with obsession,
with her head he's messing,
again and some more,
and so they roll down lonely rivers.
(c) Livvi

Illumination of morning draws her sword.
The sunshine,although beauteous insults my morning eyes.
It is the day that work doth call and my sword be drawn to fight it.

At the sound of seven bells,  the cobwebs clear.
Smell the bed, no it's not smelly.
It carries the warmth of the lovers departure.
Bed for today, has lost it's allure.
Another lovely day has dawned, for today alone she's dressed in sun.

The morning smells.
Bacon sizzling in the pan, prepared by ladies loyal man.
Oh so the lady dreams
Eggs ******* in to the fire.
Ready for a spot of flipping, after all, today is sunny side up.

She, that lady,staggers in a dream of just left sleep, shoves the kettle on.
Grabs her mug, cos it's yesterdays tomorrow.
Pours her coffee, made by fair hand filled with lonely sorrow.
Actually, another note on which to end.
The lady likes not bacon, but scrambled egg's another dream.
(c) LIVVI 07,42, 16/02/2014

And moonlight ushers her blessings on your body as you rest.
She reads the stress pouring out from your forehead in dreams.
Timid whimpers the puppy saddened by a scolding.
Cowering as age develops by the minute.
Even by the second.
Not at all as you had reckoned.

Diana, huntress snatches your sword.
Propelled it to the nether worlds.
Lest you cut yourself.
Sever not the light of life.
Carried on raindrops.

By the face of morning's crispy sun.
You quake, you shake you vibrate and you quiver.
Like joy in the morning the sunshine you give her!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Watching a talk show on T.V.
The first thing that struck me.
Was that the host had feet that were huge.
I don't know what that says about him.
He sails close to the edge.
That's about it.
The twisted presenter is full of it.
Can he buy any condoms that fit..!
A spot of Tuesday morning wit.
(C) LIVVI

Walking down the mottled shiny steps.
The pavement coated in icy slime.
Kind and careful.
Considering where I tread.
Angels fear to tread here.
Fear to touch and feel.
The distaste given by their entrance.
Totally unreal.
These slugs are not bullets fired from a maniacs gun.
Out with the  salt.
An evaporation of body.
Cruel way to pass.
Wonder if slugs feel pain.
(C) LIVVI

Sparkling birdsong christens morning, noisy, but not annoying.
Bringing with them a sprinkling of  effervescent light , applauding the day.
An electric spark, chases dying night away.
Reintroduction a brand new day, the prize of life, a fizzing Friday.
(c) LIVVI

Tepid sun strung.
Suspended in somewhat dusky sky.
Insipid in a struggle to fly high.
Weighty in cloudy lonely skies.

Breathe in tainted cold air.
Covered in cheek nipping air.
Skin ruddy and bare.
So much warmer hiding in there.

Sun can't break.
Such problems dawning.
Fog is burning the fingers of morning.
Arrested the process of moving on.

Lifted today.
The miasma of yore.
Atmosphere left damp.
A soggy blanket so thrilled.
It's so ****** sore.

Still squeezing the the life.
From folks whose ears, are caught in it's chill.
The cold pain sliced the world,
As it bathed in ripped out rain.
Yet again!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Those bells of six tickled my ears, gently at first as the morning drifts.
Didn't turn them, off so they're throwing a tantrum.
Tantrum ongoing, my ears abused.
The noise is murdered, with a finger, euthanised, by the push of a button.
And now again, I rise.
(C) LIVVI

Paradise hides in tree tops and bushes.
Edges caught on butterfly wings.
Beautiful honey makers and other things.
Even the pesky moths that nibble your clothes.
In the feathers of birds, satin black sheen.
Mere pond life.
Nature, their mother, lover and glorious wife.
(c) Livvi

Mother Dear,
She sat as she rocked in her chair,
Not a gift of age,
A gift of lunacy,
Hard life she had,
Always caught by conscience sparks,
Within a memory,
Fragmented windows left shards,
Dug into her heart,
A broken life of memories past,
Where no-one knew and never asked,
What left her there,
Just passed teenage intervention,
Much too vile to mention,
The fatherless child,
Fearless,
He bought up her kids,
Now brings up his own...,
While she sits and she rocks,
Talking to the clocks,
Sadly watching her life slip away,
Before her eyes,
No more to die for,
Even less to cry for she sighs!
Copywrite Livvi Kent 22/08/2013

My mother's house is full of spirits.
An awesome atmosphere.
Ancient kitchen with all mod cons.
Narrow winding stairs.
Ethnic and groovy abode.
Art work sent straight from Bohemia.
Brick built fireplace.
Clean and neat.
Delicious taste of conscience cooking.
Consciously.
Hey good looking.
The cooking's grand.
And the  evening whisky.
Makes you sleepy.
I bet you thought I'd say frisky.
Your house is utterly amazing.
(c) Livvi

Thank you to those mother's.
Inhabiting the field.
Always with a pregnancy.
To increase their cow juice yield.

Marched, by order of the dairy man
Off to the milking yard.
Whereupon,they meet the dairy fairy.
Who drains their udders dry.

These cows they make me happy.
Their generous donations.
Cover all the cereal bowls.
And coffee cups throughout the nations.

For me.
Black coffee in the morning.
Is not the nicest thing.
Fetch the milk from the shop.
Praise the cows.
Don't ever stop!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

They're chasing, chasing ladies.
They want to taste succulence between their swollen *******.
They're looking for love in the form of affection, in recognition that once they were young.
They were once insecure,
Little boys lost.
These women, voluptuous full up with passion, have a smell so familiar.
That of absconded childhood, now turned into wild hood.
And so they cry, when taken from the breast.
Deposited in bottle banks, as once again they cry some more.
These little boys who decry woman form regardless of her cost.
His mother was precious.
She was victorious in making a man, from mother's milk an infant raised to be a gentleman.
(C) Livvi

This morning,
I watched a moth,
a tatty brown moth,
struggling to be free,
it's wings were sodden,
it couldn't fly.
From that,
I drew the equation of struggling to work in a fast food joint.
Struggling to prosper,
to be set free,
to relax.

Poor creature,
It was fighting hard,
beyond redemption.
It was lured into the death trap of light,
as it buzzed into my kitchen overnight.

The moth was drowning,
so were the restaurant workers.
the workers have no breathing space,
they can leave at the end of their shift,
it's not the end of their tired lives.

Both struggling to break free,
Inevitably, the moth will expire,
The staff at the drive- through,
might get second chances,
unlike the moth from the night light,
they continue to dance,
at the end of the day,
as they flit away,
an honest days wages,
bought a few pennies pay,
they can scrawl in their journals,
tales of the days,
not lazy days,
The days, when they worked at the fast food joint.
(C) Livvi

I sat by your graveside last night.
Saw nothing but, a filled in hole.
I am empty.
More empty before my eyes.
A vacuum full of now dead lies.
To be free of your curse.
Placed deep in the soil.
Loving you.

Or not.
I forgot how cruel you were.
I chose to forget.
It was a pleasure to have some one.
Anyone.
No matter how cruel.
I was dependent on, disgusting you.
Better I believed, to be one half of two.
Now you've gone.
Life goes on.
Served up on a platter, of now you've died.
I really matter.
Don't need you by my side.
Don't need to fill your fat face anymore.
Just counting stars.
Lost count.
(C) LIVVI

A mountain.
Its growing by the minute.
Bigger and bigger still.
Increasing in magnitude.
Plates and cups and cutlery.
Saucepans and a lonely wok.

An avalanche brewing in a secluded space.
River flows over the kitchen sink.
Daughter needs to wash up,
at least that's what I think.
Sink is overflowing.
One almighty crash.
Lots of broken china.
Surrounds the base of never rest.
Another excuse to avoid it.
Hey presto.
The daughter is gone in a flash.
(C) Livvi

Taffeta dress.
Pink bows and ribbons,
Plaited elegantly through her shiny hair.
Shoes made of crystal glass.
Azure eyes that allure.
Princes and spinsters.
All vying for love.
In ball gowns.
Feel the frowns.
The pauper descends.
Out of place, amid friends.
Pretences of sisters who whisper and moan.
Two sisters and mother that clamour the throne.
They're trying for love.
Met on the staircase.
We really don't really care case.
Sisters on ladders of heels,as they stagger .
Their mouths filthy as bladders and bowels.
Nasty creatures.
Vile in lust.
Lustful greed.
Maternal demon seed.
Stepmother, toxically crumbles to dust.
Crone godmother.
A quick sip of milk.
Cinderella my lovely became but a sylph.
Dispelled stepmother and daughter's that cussed.
Transport to the princes ball.
In a pumpkin, should maybe have been made into a sickly sweet pie.
Lizards as footmen, stood fast on the back on the coach pulled by white mice.
The creatures were shocked.
By the changes, all the rearrangements.
Built up with Cinderella before, a creature comfort kind of rapport.
Be back by midnight said the fairy godmother, she knew he'd really grow to love her.
Midnight came midnight went.
A glorious evening only lent.
She tripped on the stair,
Nobody cared, except the prince and cute cinders.
She lost her shoe, in a hurry to flee.
Prince himself picked it up, unable to believe in lady luck was meant to be.
He searched his dominions far and wide, just to find his princess bride.
All the best things found in fairy tales.
What do I find?
Just slugs and snails.
Yep, you guessed it I'm a bit of a cynic.
(c)Livvi MMCV

MOVING ON
From here I stroll into the darkness,
From the land of known knowledge and ready made friends,
I'm walking on air bubbles,
I have friends I never thought I had.
I kiss outpatients goodbye with big hugs.
I take my gifts home in a plastic bag,
all full up with memories.

And now I'm reflect on my colleagues,
sorry guys,
you all fit my jigsaw of reflection and recollection.
I have no favourites in my team.
We all work in unison.
I have Mandy and Karen who don't want me to go,
but you know, I have to move along,
I have Rose and Terri who steer the team,
now that our dear Sister Diann left,
Allison left and came right back,
she must have known on which side her bread was buttered,
Aga, my friend is going,
will be bouncing back in a nurses dress,
Tracey, was the first colleague,
I saw when I was interviewed,
the first person who said "hello", you see I remembered.
Erline and Gill are both angels,
Maggie's much the same,
George and Charlotte,
I met you the first day that you came to stay,
two doctors in the making...good luck to both of you.
Mark is off to train,
off to find a new career, a proper little life saver,
he'll be great at that,
most definitely he will!
I am graced with knowing Lauren Dean,
she wants to be a midwife,
I know that she'll succeed.
Louise, well she is learning loads,
I was so delighted to find Julie S, had come to join our team,
I was touched by your cute little special gift..
and also the gift from the eye lady who made me cry.
Dr J, thank you for my flowers,
you made my day, thank you
We have a collection of newbies come to play,
don't know them that well but, I hope they stay.
Min and George, I appreciate you buying my silly books.
Kirsten and Kayla, I'll miss you both.
I'll miss you all as much as I can,
the receptionists and medical records,
especially Adam (LOL, winks at Kayla),
you all play a crucial part.
If I forgot to mention you,
Then I'm sorry,
you're all great,
all part of a memory well spent.
I'm getting tired.....
several patients asked me if I was retiring tomorrow,
Good God,
do I really look that old.
Been a long day.

Thank you all for your good wishes and gifts,
It's going to be another river to ride on,
I'm sure that I can swim.
Time for me to love and learn.
(C) Olivia Kent

She utters words.
Supposedly, a statement that she apparently cares.
Then, with her words her family's deflated.
She spits her vile words.
Thrown out, lashed onto alcohol.
Announces that she knows it all.
Always bending ears of those near and dear.
She is not an evil *****.
Not a witch.
Just Mrs Know- It -All.
Mrs Apparently Capable.
She will squash her family.
Just like that.
That's the way she plays her games.
Apparently, likes to prove she cares.
She doesn't seem to have a ****** clue.
(c) Livvi

I shan't cry.
I can't  allow myself too.
For I am the widow.
I'm all wrapped in black.
The gossamer web of my lover.
My lover she's the most glorious person that I have ever encountered.
She's a mentor to the most blessed of truths.
I trust her not to let me down.
She is captured in the smile at the end of my frown.
She is sutured deep inside my brain.
Sometimes she is pink and frilly, descriptive and very pretty.
Sometimes she climbs out of the coal hole under the house.
A somewhat mucky mouse.
She carries me back to childhood fears.
Angry tears.
Bundles of rage.
A verse to each and every page.
She is the woman of free expression.
She is not a real world widow.
And never does she bite.
The window she sees through, always clear.
bathed by acidic rain.
(C) Livvi

That Matriarch .
Supports her brood.
Provides them with food.
Disciples bow in her honour.
A Sergeant major on patrol.
She is, is she?
They are more in charge these days.

You must do that, you must do this.
You should do that.
Discipline feeds them with a mantra.
To run a life of strength.
In ivory towers.
In glorious pastures bathed with flowers.
Behave yourself.
Do as you're told.
Do as you would be done by.

T'will make you good as gold.
Rather than that discipline running permanently.
Teach them lovingly.
Give them kisses.
A listening ear.
Provide them with love abundant.
Keep them safe and giggle with them.
Maybe laugh at them, as they laugh loud at you.
This funny old female.
With greying hair.
Much too late to start to care.

Don't turn the lights out on my life.
So soon.
My rather crazy friend.
I am not your loving wife.
I'm nobody's muppet.
And you're not a puppet.

We're sat on the gate.
Not on the fence.
May the gate re-open if not totally broken.
Sat on the fence.
Not waiting to fall.

Should be dispelling busted hate.
No need for you to hate me mate.
For you're free now.
Though the times we spent together were really great.

I'm no cow.
As a ruminant perhaps.
I chew on the cud.
Regurgitate.
In an awful sad and crazy state.
I'm not crazy at it happens.

The times we spent together were really great.
You and I.
Now relishing precious time on my own.
For I am your puppy and you are my bone.
LOL X

By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Soul hidden in dark shroud.
Offered a penny to save it.
Declined.
More than a penny to save a soul.

Chilled in ice pack.
Kept in safe haven.
Is it safe?
Maybe no escape.

Soul heart or true being.
Cloud covers innocence.
Makes view obscured.
Obsolete.

Trapped.
Anchored by scarlet ribbons.
Adorned with jeweled trinkets.
Distressed.
Soul not for sale.
Nor is it for leaving.

It belongs to honest angel with heart of solid gold.
Not created by alchemists.
Made by life itself.
Every struggle.
Beats the always muddle.
Shown by the muse.
lady Livvi1 2013

Mushroom!

The bride of darkness was kept in the cellar.
Kept in the dark as a mushroom would flourish.
She found the husband of her dreams.
She thought he would her nourish.

With richness and wealth.
Show love so true.
He came and went.
He left in a hurry.

The lights were out.
There was nobody home.
He went off to fight wild battles in Rome.
Never came back.
Left her stuck in the dark.

By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

A note I cannot play.
Nor can I sing as a Nightingale in flight.
Love a guitar that's tuned up to sing for me.
As long as another sings the songs.
The joy of magic music.
Played by an artistic maestro.
A multitude of pretty sounds.
Choice words may come to me easy,
Beg me, I pray not that you ask of me to sing.
For I have the rhythm of a strangled cat.
And the banshee howling in the yard speaks much better than me.
My vocals they will torture you.
Your eardrums assaulted beyond belief.
The moment I stop singing, a bucketful of sweet relief.
Once I sang a tuneless poem the room it roared with laughter.
My ad-lib singing poem one mega deaf disaster!
(C) Livvi

Count the tears on your pillow as they fall.
Bid them goodbye.
Say to your lover adieu, that's all we can ever be.
The tears are hers.
They're given by you.
Write your thoughts of her touch in a notebook, wrapped in royal blue satin.
She was your princess, the queen of your heart.
You let her go.
You had too.
Goodbye sweet lover, remember she still holds you close in her heart.
Awaiting renewal, still she waits.
Still she will.
(c)Livvi

The marching bands of military men.
In ceremony well,
They truly make me cry.
Lift up mine excitement.
As the trumpets they do cry.
Drums beat their lives out.
Causes awesome fear on battlefield.
In ceremonial adrenaline.
'Tis adrenaline that makes heart cry!

Children round the yule tree.
Make my eyes drown.
Hark the voices of angels.
Fed up with excitement.

Love songs sung.
So lyrical and blue.
The blues they so cry mournfully.
Music of memories.
Those songs,
You know the ones I mean.
Significant songs.
Designed to make you cry.
Cry me a river.
One In which I can not drown.

By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

MUSING
Sitting here in the room that I call my study,
I'm somewhat deep in thought,
Been to a party at the place we once went,
I remember that night how we both enjoyed it,
you never left my side,
you were my protection.
I punched my way through glasses of somewhat poky punch,
and shots of Sambucca,
which were dutifully spilt,
all over my face rather than in my mouth,
in fact,
my face is so sticky,
I'm somewhat stuck.
I'm In a place where I don't need to be,
I want to walk away from you,
You're just a poison tipped dagger stuck in my side,
preventing motion.
You are a thorn in my eye that blinds me,
to others,
as,
still your magnetism attracts,
although,
I'm repulsed,
by your antics.
Meanwhile darling,
you killed my emotions.
(C) Livvi

By the river I meandered .
Ducks quacked their racket.
Accompanied in harmony by female child.
The sound in tune with nature's perfect bloom.
Moorhen drifted over water.
Dipped his head then he was gone.
Dogs ran in unison together.
Different breeds as one.
Having so much fun.
Dogs spread their bark all over the park.
As bark flakes off from the trees.

The willows crudely wept their tears.
And the Poplars only trembled more.

Got to the spot of our dragon fly.
Nobody's here.
All that's here are memories.
River's still not got much of a flow.
Her water's flowing mud and silt.

Fishers still stand on the Sunday bank.
Depositing nothing but lines.

And here am I stood on the spot.
Where this poem first began.
Where for a brief moment.
I was your woman
For another brief moment.
You were my man.

In eloquent silence I stand.
Watching the world go by.
Conversing with the naked trees.
Bare and exposed like me.

There's a chill here in this place.
It's felt in my words as they kiss my face.

Sat on the fence as I muse.
As me, myself, and I amuse.
The litter of displaced leaves on the ground.
Memories lost.
Memories found.
Too chilly to rest by the stream.
With a heart so chilled indeed.
And now the pub calls and I'm going for dinner.

Eaten now.
I stopped and bade our spot goodbye.
Homeward bound with a tear in my eye,
Watching two ducks having a row.
Perhaps those ducks were you and I!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Silence.
The air hangs silent around my resting head.
Time off in jubilant celebration of the coming of our baby.
The baby Jesus.
Too exhausted to walk further.
Mary in the pains of labour delivered unto us that night.
In a stable the only place of vacancy in the town of silence.
'Twas such a holy night.
Angels fetched the lambs of God.
As shepherds from the fields they came.
Then affluent fellows from the East.
Visited child on burdensome beasts.
Pursued the course of glowing star.
Followed the dreams for the Christian future.
Upon that one first Christmas Day!
Livvi 24/12/2013

My angel thou is always there.
Watching me from my fractured ceiling.
I sense you, but, seeing you is beyond my senses.
My ability are not one those that permits the seeing angels or maybe not seeing enough.
I hear you whispering like a gentle wind.
In bed I feel you touch me, invisibly.
Snuggled with a being who isn't really there.
My angel.
Look after me.
I know I need you there.
(c)LIVVI

I am re-jigging my book...  I received my copy and have found a couple of typo's.
I will inform my friends on here when it's  done..Early next week will be ready!
Sorry my first attempt x!
Thank you ** Livvi

And Then There Were Words my first book is re-incarnated and back on sale, minus typos.
My next book ,a book of my dark poetry should be out by next week **
Love Livvi x
http://www.lulu.com/shop/olivia-kent/and-then-there-were-words-a-passion-for-poetry/paperback/product-21406426.html?showPreview=true

My Christmas

My gifts they came today.
A day late.
As into my own abode I came.

A feast of plenty for Christmas.
Did share all with my friend who cares.
Spent a time of peace and love.
That gift of friendship.
The greatest gift I ever shared.
Long may it be true.
Had the holiday of plenty.
Relaxed and full of food.
It was almost silent there.
There was no crazy alcohol,
Well not much anyway.
Pots of luscious chocolate.
Cheesecakes by the dozen.
Just a little peace and quiet.
Thank you my friend.
I'm delighted that I tried it.
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Phone me, discuss rather than cuss.
You will not drag me to hell!
Because you can't.
I write because, like you I can,
Write what I feel at the time,
Means nothing...just words.
I want no recognition.
From you or A.N.Other!
If you will not speak to the lady who is  most definitely no runt.
No *****.
Who does not want you anymore.
Because you're truly self-absorbed.
No C**T
(BTW I shall not share your naked pics on here.)
Believe it or not.
I have respect for you and more  for myself!

My Computer and my Pen!

You give me all that I want.
All I could ever need.
Take cherished space with perfect dignity.
You called to me and do so still.
I delivered a gift to thee.
No charity.
I need no more.
Need no less.
Times spent with you are just the best!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

My Darker Side of Writing! (Not Nice!)

Writing skids down razor wires,
Screaming,
Too close to the edge!
At times,
Taut wire bites,
She's cutting!

Blood spurts stemmed,
Quelled by wires, diathermy's hot,
Sanctified by lovers art,
Sanitised inside a heart,
Words never massacred,
As lambs present for slaughter,
Squealing in the field,
When their days are nearly done,
Writing dark on tissue shreds has only just begun!

Heart's contorted,
In ivory, as dry crumbled bone dust,
Revealed by dissection!
Revered resurrection,

Savour not badness,
Created in my mind,
Love my joy,
Not my darkness,
Take the alabaster view,
Panoramas visualised in forthright fortitude!

By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

My Darker Side of Writing! (Not Nice!)

Writing skids down razor wires,
Screaming,
Too close to the edge!
At times,
Taut wire bites,
She's cutting!

Blood spurts stemmed,
Quelled by wires, diathermy's hot,
Sanctified by lovers art,
Sanitised inside a heart,
Words never massacred,
As lambs present for slaughter,
Squealing in the field,
When their days are nearly done,
Writing dark on tissue shreds has only just begun!

Heart's contorted,
In ivory, as dry crumbled bone dust,
Revealed by dissection!
Revered resurrection,

Savour not badness,
Created in my mind,
Love my joy,
Not my darkness,
Take the alabaster view,
Panoramas visualised in forthright fortitude!

By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

We were beautiful,
Beautiful as summer days,
once kept us safe in loves tender haze,
As we walked and we talked hands held so tight,
In virtual silence, we talk, for together we needed not spoken word,
Together once, we fell into bed, became enlightened,
By one another,
Bronze bodies laid,
but that was of late,
much too late,
You were awesome,
you still are,
you were the raspberry that you blew,
darling, you are my raspberry fool.
And still I love,
I love you still,
I  show no emotion,
For any,
No-one since you crossed my heart.
My cherished raspberry fool,
Your pips are stuck in my teeth,
And your image in the depths of my dreams,
I wish that I was there,
but I'm not.
One day soon maybe,
the God's of love will let him reconsider,
our tenable position,
time spent holding me close,
Once more,
Our starring roles, recreated!

(C) Livvi

I have loved you for the entirety of adulthood.
You are my Goddess.
You are the ink spots on my vacant page.
You are my lady.
My passion,
My excitable fire.
You are my challenge.
My deluge.
My warmth,
My chill,
My smiles,
My medicines,
No frontiers.
My banners,
My dagger,
My love and my life.
Who could ever believe,
perceive and value,
Just education,
Loving my mere diction,
as much as you and I .
Without my pen and dictionary,
I shall but fade and die!
(C) LIVVI

My darling dragon,
he never does as he's told,
He spilled a drop of water over him,
his fire went out,
he's blowing cold.
No matter how I tell him he needs to behave,
my wild teenage dragon always rants and raves,
he thinks not much of being good,
it's not like he misunderstood,
my silly little dragon son,
he's not eating fair maidens,
he lives on fish and chips,
however;
when he's standing on the sea shore,
he's partial to a piece of fish,
served up with seaweed and a couple of tasty ships.
(C) Livvi

Finally up and running ** On Lulu Market place.
www.lulu.com
Funny Bones,
Purgatory,
Enter the Darkness
Livvi **