In absolute silence at the top of the hill they dwell.
A houseful of memories, hidden from hell.
The dark rider upon the steel steed, creates more images on which to feed.
Walks up to the door, screams at the *****.
He is familiar, oh so familiar.

She does not listen,  cos she's too busy kissing.
Drooling over his tightened neck.
She's feeding again.
They see it daily.
Hiding tight lipped.
Just take it all in.
Pure violence and viciousness, flow throw her skin.

The papers said the hills had eyes.
They don't.
The fabric of cruelty is trapped in her bricks.
They think her so precious when she's out on the lurk.
She's hunting for victims, as part of her work.
An enchantress, a dream maker perhaps.
On the hunt for mortal chaps.
She is the lady, the vampire queen.
Demonic darkness, by mortals unseen.

Your lover left unexpectedly.
You know not where he went.
He was hell bent on fantasy.
She was blessed with beautiful allure and a get  anything she wants kind of face.
They've seen it all, they're just bricks in the wall.
They say nothing, nothing at all!
(c) Livvi

A political party.
A chimps tea party.
Balloons and streamers.
Fantasy dreamers.
Stitched up firmly with red tape.
While as the lowly dregs, they ****.
Muppets and puppets, with tangled up strings.
Talk full on *******, 'bout all sorts of things.
Which ones are  the worst?
A political conundrum.
A chamber of Lords, full of bent swords.
Fanfare for the common man?
You'd like to think you flaming can.
Just a bunch of knobs and snobs!
(c) Livvi

Sits at the grand piano.
Listens to the music dancing in circles.
Jiggling and tinkling.
Twisting and whirling
Staccato.
Vibrato.
Fortissimo.
Picking up tunes.
Straight from the air
She's playing by ear again.
Music's feeding her soul.
(c)LIVVI MMXV

Oh heck.
There's a knife in his neck.
Wasn't really in his neck.
Stabbed him in the belly.
Saw it on the telly.

Seriously scary stuff.
Went to attend.
You know.
Being a friend to folks and all that.
Having the skill to instill a little confidence.
Maybe a little treatment.
First time I saw a stabbing.
Kind of heart grabbing.

Taken off to hospital in the back of medics vehicle.
Was all over the papers.
Yes it was it on t.v.
I never saw the reports.
I never saw it in the the papers, but there was a pic of me!

Livvi blows her own trumpet..LOL
And yes he survived!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

I bought a new dress you know,
it's deep red and lightly patterned,
it looks lovely on,
the perfect shape and style,
respectable but trendy,
not another make-do,
I tried it you know,
I had to,
that dress has a purpose,
I bought new shoes,
they're black you know,
same as my royal blue ones,
but a better colour match,
Why did I buy it I hear you say,
what is your purpose,
it's as if I can read your mind,
I have an interview,
a new job,
I do declare,
don my new dress,
my heel less shoes,
dye my greying hair,
I want this job,
more than anything,
it's more my cup of tea,
hee hee,
I need a little knowledge,
I have a bit of that,
A bucket of understanding,
I have buckets more than most,
a touch of empathy,
a wow amount of confidence,
I show it now and then.
I need a trumpet to share with you,
at the moment,
I'm blowing my own,
perhaps you can blow mine too,
support me in my new job quest,
let me prove myself the best,
trying hard to sell myself,
the very best I can,
as only I can do!
(c) Livvi

Scratching, creeping outwardly from the land beneath the bed.
She lays and sleeps and she tosses and turns.
Her feet curl up and she wriggles her toes.

Who is it that's there laying with her?
Nobody knows him,
For he is the invisible man.
He reaches up.
He's touching her hand.

Again and again.
He will not commit.
He knows that he loves her.
He will never admit.
She could make him happy.
If he gave her a chance.
But today is Thursday,
he's out on the town again.
Sporting a smile.
The invisible clown.
He doesn't want a lover, who can never see his face.
He's ashamed that she will never see his expressions.
Nor will they be felt.
She will never stroke his face, or kiss his cheek.
She can't find him.
A game of hide and seek.
No matter how hard she looks.
Aha, a bright idea.
A bag of flour at her side.
She flung it all around the space.
Wanted to see his funny face.

Atishoo, he sneezed.
Flour caused an allergy.
Respiratory arrest.
Mouth to mouth dutifully given.
At least she got a proper kiss.
He choked to death upon her floor.
At least she got to see his face.
A little too late!
(C) LIVVI

Love bequeathed a friend in mauve.
Of falling trees and broken temples.
For promises.
Azure bright blue.
Stunning seas.
Not the Isle of Wight.
I'm so sad to say.
Ferries, cause swell.
The water's not clear, there's a God awful smell.
Not always however, the beaches are pretty, so nice for a stroll.
The affluent fellows strut into Cowes, they're sailing their yachts off into the calm.
Avoiding the storms, they're not going home.
Wife left in the house.
He says she loves gardening.
Who knows, maybe she's a gnomess, a tidiness freak.
Goes off and leaves her every week,
He tells us she likes it that way...
Well, I never know what to say, perhaps he's just a player.
I have my suspicions.
Hovels hiding behind shutter less houses.
Coveted lovers secure in lies.
His lover lay trembling on the ground.
Her pleasant muses they truly astound.
Music and moments, painted in pink.
Designed to make him sit and think.
If the music be power of cannons and smoke, let nobody choke.
Of seasons and flowers,sweet aromatic breezes of night scented Jasmine.
Fragrantly green, very fresh.
I actually love the Isle of Wight...
(c) Livvi MMCV

The Joy of Ultrasound!

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

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

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

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

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

She was seen there.
Standing on the corner of the street.
Bathed in gas light.
Dressed in a corset of brilliant red.
Her heart she kept within her soul.
She kept it safe from harm.
She was stunningly beautiful.
He chucked her a tanner.
Something menacing hung in his manner.
He beckoned to her.
She stood beneath the aforementioned light.
This was to be her last night light.
Alone that night.
She had seen her last punter.
He was really mean.
He made had black.
Her made her blue.
Abandoned her 'neath the unholy street light.
Found slumped on the deck.
'neath the glowing gas light.
No investigations carried out.
In this the proudest of nations.
She was just another ******.
Discarded with the trash.
(C) Livvi

Secret agent.
Agent provocateur.
She's got herself a boyfriend now.
A human sacrifice to free.
Taken yet another lover.

Life chucked her on a rolling ball.
A downhill rat,she's running.
Cunning hits and crazy fits.
My God, that girl is stunning.

Thought she had it all and more.
Said cornflowers just ain't like like that, twiddling on the Bachelors Buttons.

Life chucked her on a rolling ball.
A down hill rat,she's running.
Cunning hits and crazy fits.
My God, that girl is stunning.

She makes no broken promises.
Stormy seas are for riding,
Forbidden to be free.
You who were perfection.
Crazy notion, love devotion.
Riding on a carousel.
For she's the lady Moriarty.
She's willing for the ****.
(c) Livvi

Walking through fields in the pouring rain.
Wet feet in the main.
Auburn hair falling around her personal suburban skyline.
It's dripping down her neck.
Deep down inside the nape.
The express of  tears passed by on the right side.
She steps over the tracks.
In tears she bows, in respect of her misspent youth.
Lots of mistakes made.
An eraser passed by, with a grin on its face.
It spoke to the wind and the rain.
The words spilled out forgiven.
"My lady we all made mistakes".
All errors, night terrors.
Won't let her sleep.
The pillow in saturation of those tears that she wept.
The lady of the willow .
She cried.
(C) Livvi

She's hiding beneath the cold mortuary table.
Her contents spilled over the slab.
Took a stab in the dark as she strolled through the park.
On her way home from work.  
Some kinda ****, grabbed the ****** for slaughter.
****** got grabbed by the miserable pedlar.
Passed on his bike,  waving his knife.
Nobody saw him despatching his *****.


Precious and beautiful
Bountiful bubbly.
Neath the image portrayed.
Dry skin and cold scores.
The **** trade, just a little bit sordid.
Told her **** she weren't happy.
Pulled out a knife.
Slaughtered her ripped her,
Ended her life.

Under the table hid the ******.
Life lost.
Bad man.
Bad company.
Accompanied him to a life full of sin.
She didn't know, she just had to go.
(c)Livvi

Land of the Lost! (And this is about?)

Land of the lost hid revelations.
Tied In bonds.
Satisfied a thirst.
Hungry for knowledge.
Grew inside.
From the acorn.
Embryonic giant oak.
Doth grow.

Tree of knowledge.
Upon it tawny owl sits.
Shedding pellets.
Knowledge all.
What once lived inside.
Around the globe.
Let the sphere of enlightenment be born.
From the owls wisdom.
Concealed.
Partially digested.
Deep in the land of the lost.
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

A stunning morning.
Sunshine decking the glory filled lawn.
Night's swept away on the brush of a fox.

Lamenting my flowers.
They have passed.
A natural tragedy.
They have withered and died.
Disappeared, in what seemed like the blink of an eye.
They shall be retained.
Deep in the brain.
The brain of the lady.
Work is bereft.

Final recollection, that all things must pass.
Their beauty shall not be ashes,but scrunched up dry dust.
I shall find a spot in the garden.
Where I shall lay memories of my friends to rest.
And hence I explain my flowers away.
So precious were these flowers.
Burnings' so final you know.
Once they were beauteous.
Once so was I.
A bouquet of beauty.
Sadly they've died.
True beauty lives in the beholders eye.
(c) Livvi

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

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

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

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

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

"I am the living room.
I have a soul of my own.
I see comings and goings.
I've see children born and growing.
Spreading wings and flying away.
I've seen parties full of such debauchery.
You know I feel you when you enter.
I sense loneliness when you are not in.
Sometimes I see the dog.
She sneaks in when the family are out.
The *** plants are lovely, but they don't make conversation.
I watch the T.V. and realise how boring life is.
The old man he was laid in state.
Awaiting transportation to the nether  world.
Along they come carrying pots of paint rejuvenating and freshening.
Carried in the stroke of a brush.
"Oh heaven be felt."
(C) Livvi

The loony chap struts in a mania of hurry,
So dashing,
Not as fairy tale prince,
His catatonic stance enhanced when standing static in panic mode,
Paranoid eyes cut like steel,
Quick and clean, untarnished though he's rather old,
The stranger passing down the street has a love affair with his can,
For they will never part......,
Another poor sod lives deep inside his pickled head!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
No I'm not insensitive very caring!
Just made a great poetic topic!

Lost Cause!

Put the lost cause in the garden.
Forgot to put on it's leash.
It ran away.
Evaded capture.
It made the great escape.

The lost cause danced in doorways.
Lit up with purple blaze.
The lost cause had a party.
A solo party on it's own.

It was enroute to the back of beyond.
Once again it got lost.
It didn't have it's bus fare.
So it asked a crazy chick.
The chicken wasn't interested.
Cause, he didn't have a ****.
She chucked him fifty p.

The lost cause hopped upon the bus.
It took him out to sea.
A large wave came over.
Washed over the lost cause.
Right over his head.
Left him on the beach at dawn.
Where once again lost cause was found forlorn.
Poor thing!

By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Lost Cause!

Put the lost cause in the garden.
Forgot to put on it's leash.
It ran away.
Evaded capture.
It made the great escape.

The lost cause danced in doorways.
Lit up with purple blaze.
The lost cause had a party.
A solo party on it's own.

It was enroute to the back of beyond.
Once again it got lost.
It didn't have it's bus fare.
So it asked a crazy chick.
The chicken wasn't interested.
Cause, he didn't have a ****.
She chucked him fifty p.

The lost cause hopped upon the bus.
It took him out to sea.
A large wave came over.
Washed over the lost cause.
Right over his head.
Left him on the beach at dawn.
Where once again lost cause was found forlorn.
Poor thing!

By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

LOST LOVER
His love was in her heart.
Her heart it was his quest.
He stole her heart and locked it, within a treasure chest.
A crystal key, beneath the sea held it locked beneath the waves.
The locked heart now rusted withstood the tidal ebb and flow.
Impenetrable, without a doubt.
Pray keep not thine precious love, locked inside said treasure chest.
He calls of sadness and of sorrow.
Rung loudly by the echo of the death bell as it tolls.
The echoes cause vibrations, that shattered what mattered.
Smashed into disrespect.
The love they shared was never a myth.
A secret so coldly discarded.
As if a bitter lemon.
All he did was take the pith.
© Livvi

Walking in reversing circles.
Getting nowhere fast.
Not growing together.
Nor falling apart.
Our biorhythms are clashing.
You wake as I'm sleeping.
I'm dreaming of the days you cared.
The days we shared.
We move in ever decreasing circles to the end,the end of my days.
The days through eternity,
When on-wards you play,
My vampire lover.
Love you so much,
I don't want to die.
To save my soul, I have to go.
As well you know.
When you kiss your next lover, I pray think of me.
Remember our love,
Remember I'm free.
(c)LIVVI MMCV

Necromancer dances,
Casting capricious echoes in his wake,
He stirs his melting *** as he conjures up his brew,
Whatever he is cooking up,
He wants to share with you,
For he made a love potion,
To fill you with desire,
What he's after most of all,
Is to truly stoke your fire,
Needs to show you what he's got,
Heaven be praised, he's really hot,
In a cauldron full of burning spice,
Good Lord this man is really nice,
This delicious wizard man,
Is really really sweet!

By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

You lay in your casket of glass,
The sun plays on your deep set eyes,
A knowing glow, shines through your embalmed skin,
Before embarking on your eternal voyage,
The one into the unknown,
You lay there silent,
Motionless expression free,
Not a soul can hear you moan.
You poor cold soul,
Tucked up in eternal sleep,
Beside the funeral mall.
All who knew them love and miss them!
(C) Livvi

He speaks to me.
Turns me into ice cream.
Covered in raspberry sauce.
Or maybe strawberry jam.
Get a little sticky sometimes.
I try to continue the chat.
Him, himself a pupae.
Dark secrets stuck inside.
I defy his heart,
Pray not to break.
Pressure brewing  inside his eyes.
I detect a smile.
It's rare.
It hides.
He dare not spill it.
Spill nothing to she who's there.
Two weeks out of a lifetime.
And the book falls open gradually.
The story's not the same.
Him my elixir.
I ask him step forth to leave those night shadows.
(c) Livvi

The choices we make, are not always wise.
Reaching for glorious scope of new skies.
Before my eyes within my mind,
A new job unexpectedly fell wholly apart.
The green grass of summer got ripped up.
It’s miserable here on the other side.
My choice of career’s become wholly queer.
I lost my heart, it broke my soul.
I’ve lost my loving tender touch.
It’s all become much too much.
Trained for years and flaming years.
The only reminders are buckets of tears.
© Livvi

The Mockery of Fairyland


In silence watching, as fellow, fallow fairies dance,
Sylphs float above while gnomes furrow,
Donating water brothers.
Undine.
Spiritual creatures, unseen.
Creation of nature from nature.
Mankind evading.
Those fairies will still catch your eye,
In form of genus butterfly.


God forbid you meet them.
Stumble on their fairy rings.
You should never ever tell a fairy your name.
For in fairyland you may remain.

For safety's sake.
While you're out walking in the woods.
Inside out, you must wear your shirt,
Wear a ring of of iron!
So you can breach the fairies curse.
For in seven year cycles.
Fairies must donate to hell.
A good soul,Tam Hin.
Because he tricked the fairy queen.
She had to set him free.

Ti's said.
As man folk mate.
Fairies do true procreate.
In a way akin to ours!
Hybrid fairies once existed.
They were such melancholy souls.
Far too sad to live in fairyland.
Too fairy like to live on earth!

Titania she still sits waiting patiently.
For her Oberon to arrive.
King and queen of fairyland, in literacy.
Supreme?
No Fallacy!
By ladylivvi1

In the last chance saloon, thou didst reach for the moon.
Caught it,
Sat it in an egg-cup.
While  everyone waited to crack up its head.

The moon his name was Edward,
Continued moving forward.
The moon met up with the light of the sun.
The light of the sun was served with a bun.
And a pint of the Bishops favourite tipple.

The yolk of the moon, it was somewhat lumpy.
Having his head smashed in made him so grumpy.
The corner shop sold him some scrumpy.
Left him in a tizzy.
As the pull of the tide left him soggy and dizzy.
He huffed and he puffed and he moved away.
Bringing on time at the eve of  the day.
He never appreciated the gravity of  the situation.
Getting caught by stupid and ladies and girls.
Still the sun shines and so the moon whirls.
(c) Livvi

I am awake and alive on this dull sticky morning,
I wonder who put what in the Sambucca bottle,
very sweet,
maybe,
was just sweet Sambucca,

Alive,
I may well be,
my head is being hammered internally,
by a million hammers,
all at once.

My children,
they offer me no feelings of compassion,
no support for mummy dear,
self-inflicted mother love,
you should have known better.

Not,
oh dear what's the matter mater,
can I help you,
can I feed you caffeine fix,
from the bottom of the bedroom drawer,
the dug out paracetamol,
chucked them at me,
ma,
try this,

I crept downstairs to find a fix,
a positive hit,
of sweet black gold,
this morning's necessary evil,
now I have taken my tablets,
guess it's time for a refill!
(C) Livvi

You are my night, you are my day,
Since you danced into my world, such magic's taken place,
Guess what honey, you stole my heart away,
Music plays before my eyes when you're dancing close to me.
You, Ellen are my sonata in the moonlight, a rap on the streets,
You are a pure love song, that's written just for me,
The jitterbug, I feel when you walk into my room,
It means the world to me,
My friend from your love, I never want to be free!
A love song's stuck inside my heart, don't ever set me free,
Your name, so beautiful, it echoes in my head,
Your eyes they make me smile a while,
You are a love song strung on an air guitar,
My piano plays your name, in tune,
You are the song,that I hear, when I'm drifting to sleep,
Together as a duet we walk, forever,
Ellen my friend, you mean the world to me,
When I'm not near you, I'm a sad man, singing those sad man blues!
(c) Livvi

Tiny petrified planet shaking in the undergrowth.
All life could be destroyed.
Ignoring the irony of wars that walked before.
Indiscriminate.
Petty bits of squabbling, soon turning into all out war.
Faces of crying infants bleed.
The war machine they continue to feed.
Sadly shallow.

Silent streets,
Cold retreats.
The buzzing bombs and calls to pray.
War is queer, nothing gained.
Oblivion has no answers for the necromancers and the poets.
The peaceful and the simple ones, no optimism left

Once upon a time a chalice,
Edged with hearts and flowers bust.
Sure and certain of destruction.
Blood lust.

Crimson blood, became jet black.
The mindless demons did attack.
The Russians and Americans,
Joint force in eerie unison.
Unison of misdemeanour,
England expected to do her bit as the world is turning sour.
Stop and think, respect our world.
These could become our Earth's final hours.
(C) LIVVI

Her bed wouldn't release her,
Despite the alarm clock's vicious bite,
had a late one last night,
hey, Jenna,
Mother called,
time to get up honey,
get your *** moving,
and I'll chuck you some money,
maybe get you fast food breakfast,
won't tell you again,
that time was the last.
Jenna fell out of bed,
chucked on her clothes,
looked like a clothes horse,
with a pierced nose,
She wiped on her daily slap,
told the world that school was crap,
wiped on a phoney grin,
Mamma said she must go in,

In a very loud voice,
She spouted,
only thing worth having,
was not education,
but  in her classes gangs of boys.
Had enough of dictatorial teachers,
she could still hang out in bed,
learning from dreams,
instead,

She  so hated mother's nagging,
practised in old bagging,
She had no yearning for  learning,
all she wants to do is sleep!
(C) Livvi

The Nightmare.

On the slab in total innocence.
From on high it fell.
Rescued by care.

Tenderly in safety.
Protected and cosseted.
Dear sweet thing I think.

From on high she blared.
Mother screeched how much she cared.
As if the Red Baron attacked.
Wanted to ****** my eyes.

Flying in bombs.
Causing such fear.
Ran indoors.
Safe haven near!

Impact must have hit my head.
For in the night.
I got a poison visit.
Dispatched from my mind's eye.

Woke up in a dozy state.
Get inside super quick.
Fear set in.
Made me almost sick.

That bird.
That scary bird entered my head.
In my dreams in wants me dead.
Tried to get back in my home.
How the could I break free.
Don't let her ire get me.

Should have pushed the handle down.
Shoved the door to set me free.
The racket I made released my fear.
Safe and sound was really here.
Woke up in blind panic.
Fear was manic.

Woke up in my room.
Wrapped in sweat.
Really no more need to fret.Left that dream deep in the gloom.
Realised I hadn't left my room!




By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

It is 11th hour of the eleventh month.
And where the hell are we now.
Am not in Capitol myself.
Indoors.

In thoughts once true.
We started hot then off did trot.
Upon the demon's cloven hooves.
Spurned by the devil's inference.
Interference well ablaze.
Lest not forget the magic moments.
At this poignant time!
(c)Ladylivvi 11/11/2013 11am

The red eyes matched the flags,
draped over the windows, the fences the doors,
The sniffles and snuffles,
of all those supporters,
the ones in Rio,
and all of their daughters,
the fellas in front rooms,
the girls in  the pubs,
all giving their best shots at having a blub,
feeling let down at England's loss,
A storm in a teacup,
a flood of tears,
no more chances for England for another four years.
(C) Livvi

Party's Over!

The party's over.
The drink flowed.
Soothed nightly as comforter.
As protector.
Met supply with demand.
To instill peace by distillation.
Exuberant excitement as the bubbles exploded.

Caused a blast of violence.
Adam's daughter.
Eve's son.
Hid from Satan on the run.
Alcohol created explosive wit.
Taken literally.

Vengeful attack on the silent ones.
Concealed in silent corners cowering.
In fear of what was known.
Defence impossible.

Screaming on the floor in a corner of his own.
Wailing in a solo chorus.
He needs another one.
Needs another drink.

She's hiding in the living room in a non-existence of her own.
Daughter of the strong woman corrupted by love.
Perhaps love.
Love was for her Satan.
As the drunkard took control again.



By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Want you not to love me, just because you can.
But you can't.
Want you only to love me, because I'm truly lovable.
But you can't.
Huggable, soft and sweet.
I'm worth it, a million dollars it's said.
That's me, not you of course.
You're worth much, much more.
You dance night times.
I dance days.
Together in passion.
Apart a touch sour.
Feed my fire.
I fire back with true poetic inspiration.
Breathtaking in fact.
Have a degree of cyanosis.
Love has a strangle hold.
I'm strangled till I die.
(C) Livvi

The undercurrents caught his drift.
Threw him as a shuttlecock, chucked into the wind.
The child laughed with crazy grin.
He raised and drew his bow and arrow.
Fired it hard.
Bang on target, rising.
Flying through the air.
He tumbled as a limp rag, whirling to the ground.
The child collected him.
Dreams of pigeon pie flashed before his eyes.
Gave mother the gift he had acquired.
Found a number so he wired.
Only found post mortem, as he grinned with childish wily eyes.
For he had shot the messenger!
Can you see it in your mind.
Seek it out and you shall find.
(c) Livvi

Her silhouette  danced in the doorways of time.
Alluring him, besotted with his wistful ways.
She played tennis with his passion, as it flew around the room.
Hollow bangs hit decibels, she caused a sonic boom.
He crept into her darkened room and touched her back inside.
The witch woman of magic grabbed him, and on her broomstick together they did fly away.
She was ripened for his kisses, they were twice as nice.
Several days of ripening , ready to be her sacrifice.
(c) Livvi

At seasons change.
Be their gardens sparkled with snowdrops, bowing their peeping heads.
Diminutive in a flood of alabaster, blasted with vibrant ****** leaves.
Colours laid upon the grass.
Moving months the changelings evoked.
My space pray be sprinkled with realms of scented flowers.
Soft scent in springtime.
The flowers die and dry.
While I mature to perfection.
And so the sun blazes hard and strong.
Summer beckons the coming of hay.
With the hay the harvester calls.
Their leaves tumble.
Christmas is coming,
The pines are whispering in the breeze.
Longing for their freedom.
To put on their best clothes.
'Tis warm in the living room.
Avoidance of the winter snows.
(C) LIVVI

What makes me quiver and shake going down?
A total delight, a slightly salty shiver.
Always makes me warm inside.
Have to go and find some, lap it up, with glee.
Lovely and hot, it just has to be.
The gorgeous thrill I’m reporting on is?
Steaming hot.
Mushroom soup for me tea!
(C) LIVVI MARCH 2013

The pencil is straight.
It's a female pencil.
How do I know?
Because it has no colour.
It is rigid and set in its ideas.
It writes as directed.
If it was coloured perhaps it would be gay.
As it played.
Or maybe with colour flowing through its soul.
It may scribble pristine poetry.
The reason for its existence.
(c)LIVVI

In syncope she quivers.
Shaken up.
Lost all her fizz.
She's known all along.
All that glitters is not gold.
The silversmith came.
Forged a blade of silver.
For her to slip into her purse.
The blade in shape of crescent moon.

Ripped her heart to shreds too soon.
Wanted to keep it close at hand.
To breach no promises.
Not to demand.
Princess pushy.
Has regrets.
Would have a whole lot less.

If he should answer messages sent.
Then requests would be received.
Wouldn't be pushy.
No pushiness would e'er be shown.
There'd be no need at all.
Ignorance is bliss they say.
If only she had known.
She wouldn't have to moan!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

The Queue for the E.R.

The queue for the mortuary just waits and waits!
Building up the static line,
Consisting  of you and yours and me and mine!
May be static but, the queue space decreases erratically, rapidly!
Off we go, we have a crash,
Resus' in full play,
Screens erected, so no-one can see, a person who's losing their life,
To join the deceased in potential debauchery, be in heaven or hell,
Unable to tell,
Time controls destiny...dreams forsaken... maybe,
While waiting in line....time dashes, flashes...initial first births, creep in like rashes!
Growing and spreading all red and infected,
The nurses work hard, seeing no-one's neglected,
So might you make it,....will you recover, to spend the rest of your life with family or lover,
Whether the spirit runs free pleasant and fresh...,
or whether it remains ensnared in it's mesh....between heaven and hell if you're not getting well,
it's a terrible place so they say......purgatory!
The vomiting chick all covered in sick...makes all around feel ill,
The ***** old drunk who smells like a skunk, not had a bath in a month,or more,
The sad person indeed, did not not have a clue if they really wanted to carry it through,were they down,
didn't care in their hospital gown!
the gnarled up old dear, in her eye there's a tear, she doesn't even know why she's here,
the kid with a cut won't get off his ****, full of rage, irate,
In A+E some lives becomes extinguished,
while others make it through.....thank goodness,
Well it is said the queue for E.R, is truly pure hell!
Copyright, Olivia Kent 22/03/2013.

Something along the lines of mythical scary beast.
Standing on the cables.
Watching where he's stood.
Needs no execution.
Wants no plink, plink, fizz.
Watches you also.
When he's settled and safe.
His head flicks from side to side, guided by his eyes.
Just a clever scavenger.
Hunting the detritus left in a fast food bag.
No interest in how old it is,  
A stench of rotten chicken wrapped around discarded bones.
It's said the birds can not smell, but this fellow, he's truly tempted.
From his perch he invaded the packet.
Stole the contents my my what a racket.
The store fella aware of the bird, flicking and scratching at the paper packet.
Flapped his arms, shooing the bird.
Picked up the bag.
In more of a flap than the now perching bird.
Circle of co-dependence continued.
The raven, the ******* and the fast food store man.
(C) Livvi

The princess isn't really dark.
The light bulb it exploded.
Left  the poetic princess ,
with nothing but a spark.
The princess, she loves nature,
Flowers and fresh air,
Somehow that sister's twisted when she doesn't need to be.
Ahead the road is widening as she's heading to the light.
Walking slowly in autumn,
Seeking fresh daylight.
As the autumn brings with it winter chills,
The setting sun will fall,
From winter hanging icicles,
New snowdrops peep through the chilly crunchy grass.
The heart no longer breaking as crystal shining glass.
Perpetual changing moments, she is a jewel in one mans crown.
Her beauty sparkles wholly a fizz of lemonade.
With kisses soft as summer fudge,
Strawberry cheesecake and custard ****,
Remember when you next see her,
This pretty lady has a heart.
(c) Livvi

Over the clouds envisage the crowds,
They're milling as ants in their bright stripy pants,
waving and pointing,
Sun bites their eyes,
they're squinting,
concentrate on the aircraft filled skies,
they dance in formation,
the planes that is,
all through the skies,
they are red as flying pillar boxes,
darting rapidly,
almost as if they're wanting to catch the mail.
English tails of red white and blue,
I so used to love them,
How about you?
(C) Livvi