The fields lay before me crying with their force.
Roasted teardrops,dried outside.
Distressed as fallen tears spilled over the burning crust.
The lookers watch, an almost silent pause waiting for her fiery blast.
For she lives deep inside the earth, she conceals her secrets deep within.
The watchers sought their burning souvenir pebbles, oh how hot would they be.
And the chicken tasted just divine.
(C) Livvi

Close your eyes and take a breath,
Inhale deeply,
relax,
exhale,
think,
look at the birds flying over your head,
how rapidly they fly,
they are the birds of time,
take a second breath and age has dawned,
once it was bright,
almost floral,
smelling fragrant,
Breathe in again,
in the blink of your pretty eyes it's gone,
your eyes lost their sparkle,
your hair has gone grey,
and you fight to beat it,
but you never can!
(C) Livvi

In the lovely land of kitchen.
He kissed me as we spoke.
Took me close and held me tight
Kept me close in tender arms.
He stroked my heart with gentle words.

Phone rang as I sat on the bus.
Voice of excitement echoed.
Will you be long.
How long will you be.
He could not wait to see my face.
Was excited as a puppy,
Cute.

A collection of others, could see we were lovers.
Said they'd never seen him so happy.
His tears they flowed as I did go.
Said he wished he'd met me years ago.
Fate herself decreed,
Oh no.
We were not to be.

Said he wished I'd met his mother.
Said that she would love me so.
Told me,
He had told a long gone lover.
That,there I was.
New a.n.other.
Said we'd go and see a band.
Upon another never day.
We'd stroll along hand in hand.

Jesus, I so don't understand.
Why time was so unfair.
When still lives inside a tragedy,
An inability to care!
I'm rather pathetic, I don't really care.
For I am the chick with the auburn hair.
Chicks pull worms.
What more can I say.
Pray let the sweet lover be happy at play!
(c) Livvi

TIME FOR TEARS.
The cenotaph, a sea of memories and poppies.
Let us not forget these souls.
Remembrance service on the Mall,
God Bless each and everyone, upon this day of fall.
A sombre sobering thought.
A lump in my throat.
These brave souls always will have a special place within my heart.
And so they should always be remembered for brave acts and facing forced fire.
Without any choice.
Sleep well brave fellows of aged wars and modern wars.
Today I hold you in remembrance.
Poppy blessings on a bright Sunday in November!
(C) Livvi

It's been over for a life time,
a life time of intrepid memories,
that I can explore no further.
It was wonderful and magical,
powerful and passionate,
bizarre and blinding,
it was the longest love I ever shared,
There were two of us that felt the same,
but love to him a heavy game.
it only lasted milli-seconds within eternities plan,
lost in a sprinkle of stardust,
and swallowed with our strawberries.
It's over now,
I'm very chilled,
chilled but fulfilled.
we reach the stars in different ways as we play on,
the dawning of another day.
(C) Livvi

She went on a date with the father of time.
She met him in September,
She'll always remember; his all knowing smile.
He told her that he would never be true.
Only here for a while.

He was a stylish dude.
Occasionally rude.
His time was short.
A little abrupt.
In no way corrupt.
Just a time cycle.
That thought made her quite blue.
If only she knew, what he wanted to do.

He was soon to become the vanishing daddy.
Conceived in September,
Come the end of December he was going to be dying.
He had no choice.
Aged very quickly.
His role became critical.
Just before the chime of midnight skies.
She kissed him goodbye as he passed.
Halfway through the chiming bells, the funny noises, weird smells.
In front of the world there came to view his sweet little son.
Last chime of twelve, new year's begun.
(c)Livvi

The wind came, bought with it infernal pain,
Scratched at troubled faces, fighting through the hurricane.
Defacing everything in sight with it's infernal shift.
The clocks fell backwards, tumbling as their springs fell out of place.
When breakfast time was supper time, and supper time was noon.
When  the cockerel yelled at rising time, it really was too soon.
In another bit of the world not far from us, it's mid morning time, and banging hot.
Here the sky is  hanging bright, it's very  nearly nightie night, the time is never right!
(C) Livvi

They speak of dead heading flowers, when their wonderful blooms are done.
This flowers' head is falling down.
Weighs heavy on her stalk.
She was sprung like a coiled spring.
Now no energy within.
Just one week back in the land of life.
The working girl is stretched.
Finds it hard to stay awake.
Not a spark behind her eyes.
Lost all incentive until Monday buzzes in.
Sleep will fertilize her flower.
Once again that flower will bloom
She is an under developed Fuchsia.
Cerise and purple, with  her buds shut tight.
As are the of her lids of her eyes nearly.
Hiding safe and secure, after which her new bloom shall appear.
(C) Livvi

AAAtishoo!
Quick, please pass me a tissue.

Ran out of toilet roll.
Quick, please pass me a tissue.

A wet face dripping as tears drizzle.
Quick, please pass me a tissue.

Make up smudged in need of wiping.
Quick, please pass me a tissue.

Burned skin severely, in need a graft.
Quick, please pass me a tissue.

Human beings made of varying tissues.
Various colours.

Make me some tissues.
Not the ones from a box.


By ladylivvi1

© 2014 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Titanic
****** berth, she stands,
Maiden stream deflowering the
sunlight.
Immense furore along the dock.
Streamers, banners, brass bands.
Herald the beginning of
the end.
Magnificent and stately,
There she stands, a glory to behold.
Pomp and splendour,  
Wealth with greed,
All set to sail the seven seas.
A dream of life,
A life of dreams

Splendour of their own,
Scrambling ice mountains, glisten
Shining a fateful allure to a frozen death
A stern captain,
Calm, dignified,
Guides the ship of dreams unto her nightmare,
“Astern”, he cries, unheard through
muffled joy….
Crunching, crashing, listing,
A myriad of smashing crystal,
Destined for the deep,
Air thick with screams of terror,
Young, old, rich, poor,
All scared.
Mortified corpses float,
Water littered with deceased,
While the living dead look on.
Hope’s dashed,
Time dies silently.
Carpathian angel,
Saviour of souls,
God spoke,
Their souls were saved!
Livvi  Kent  2012
ladylivvi1@hotmail.com

Titless!

Ignorant bliss.
Walk through a crowded dream.
Crudeness covered discreetly.
In jovial joshing.
Lewdly.
With fanciful words.
Insufficient in declaration.
Withdraw a smile.
Contact lost.
Little boy mislaid.
Missing his maiden.
Perchance.
Take a glimpse.
A second chance in silence.

By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

TLC!

Black night sky stippled with lights.
Falling in showers of passions delight.
Forest deep where lost dreams do live.

In the forest there can be found a treasure chest.
A golden chest.
Wherein dwell a collection of hearts.
Ripped out, but tied in sinewy *****.
Encased by perfect vessels.
Sent there for a spot of palliative care.

Abandoned by souls of lost lovers.
Romeo and Juliet's both stuck in there.
Still captured in love's young dream.

Maybe the souls of poets trapped.
We are a weird bunch.
Stranded inside the land of words.
In the land between light and dark.
Somewhere lost along the way.

Within our play on words.
Summed up in a pun.
Such fun.

By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Heaven was a summer's day.
Filled with warmth and vivid flowers.
Lovers underneath the tree.
There they were,
Just you and he.
You who serenaded her in dulcet tones.
Like never had she heard.
A voice of nightingale.
Ultimately just another bird.
A world filled up with one night stands.
Gentlemen?
She will query gentlemen,
Who just wanna hold hands.
No belief in love ever after.
The halls ring out in peals of laughter.
Before being a player.
Think long and hard,
How you would feel if that young lady was your daughter!
(c)LIVVI

The father, the son and the holy ghost.
Burning bread which Satan bakes.
Three sit together,united as one, making most wonderful holy toast.
Demonic one, in his dominion,always baking, making cakes.
Spreading their toast with salted butter.
Devil bakes cakes, for a society wedding.
This poet is a freaking ******.
Last major cake that Satan made, was for the wedding of Otis Redding.
With qualifications, in cake making,a master baker, so I'm told.
Heats up his red hot fiery oven.
Melts down pieces of eight and gold.
Always makes a baker's dozen.
Cooks meals for his minions, down in hell.
Satan the baker, hey dig that smell.
(c)Livvi

To Battle!

To battle they flew.
Broadswords in hands.
Wings open fully.
Standing ***** in glory.
With broadswords swinging.
As they lash the clouds.

Creating joint forces of thunder and lightning.
Bruising the sky.
Making it ebony rich.
They will ****.
Any who stand in their way.
Will decimate a million images.
Presented to their eyes.

The end of war is near.
Their word is spoken.
It is their final will.
A testimony to the work of angels.

Seraphim and cherubim.
Stand to protect their unholy comrades.
Full camaraderie.
Brothers in arms.
Wings extended in protection.
Guarding world from extinction by idiotic men and their stupidity.


By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Swept up in a sea of nets, discarded, flapping, drowning in air.
Waiting to be landed, dashed upon the dock, waiting to be dressed and dished, fed up, on the menu to fill the mouths of men.
Makes me think before I eat, how it must feel, to be a captured fish.
I don't know how long it takes them to expire.
Think it must must dreadful, to be a fish, captured in a trawlers net.
With thousands of wriggling soul mates, and perhaps the cod father too, not many left, only a few.
Morals aside, I'm afraid, I love their taste.
(C) LIVVI

Can I not just doss in scruffy jeans?
With hair not brushed.
Nails not manicured, make-up left on, never washed off.
Never rushed.
Can I not scream and shout?
Can I not be allowed to verse my P.M.T?
May I not grump at my kid?
As other mums do.
Must I keep my temper under the lid;
Stashed below.
My placid fascinator.
When I feel snappy as an alligator.
May I not cuss?
It's just not me, you know
The rest of the family are used to all this.
I do my best, but sometimes  need to hiss.
I can't release my outburst,  in emotions spoken.
They'd tie me up in metaphorical knots.
The press hounds would rip me and chew me to bits.
Spit me out, leaving, nothing but spiteful gravel.
I'm the Duchess of Cambridge, would you be me?
(c) Livvi

To Bee or Not To Bee?

As a bee to a flower you are drawn to her.
An enchantress.
She won't let go.
She provides no toxicity.
Has no sting in her tail.
Lady fair.

She is the queen of all you survey.
In and out of your head.
Such an annoying buzz.
Irksome, Irritating,
Like an itch you need to scratch.

Why does she annoy you so with her sweet hum.,
Because..,
You want her in your world.
She is the only one!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

The morning arrives,
Laced with blood streaked tears,
These tears of acid bubble,
Scarring my cheeks as they fall,
Toxic ripples,
Flowers drooping in death throws,
While they are waiting on death row,
To be discarded, fed back to mother earth,
To replenish soils,
From spoils of war,
To nourish, enrich and nurture nature,
Transition through life's pathway,
Hell is just another day!
By ladylivvi1
© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Mr Rain emptied his buckets.
Firmament a brightness of blue.
No clouds christen this glorious sky.
Sun light shining before our eyes.
A wonderful sight.
Growth of New Year as tree she unfurls.
Novelty of dotted growth stuck tight.
On shoots of winter’s broken limbs.
Rain overnight.
Morning donates her renewed delight!

Yesterday.
Sunshine smiled a little.
Chill dared to nip at beaks.
Tickled ears at first light.
Glory be!
In a hidden hurry the ice rushed away.
Unnoticed as the day dashed on.
And then the miserable rain came once more.
Soon to be snow so the seer says!
By ladylivvi1

© 2014 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Rubbers ones for scrubbers,
Toilet pans and kitchen sinks.
Me thinks.
Non-latex ones for cleaning bums.
Bums of mums.
Bums of dad's.
Bums  of bums upon the streets.
How sweet.
*** scrubbing,
Protection.
For you and I.
Plastic see through ones for preparation.
Rapid food.
Keep cold hand warm on winter's days.
How many pairs of gloves do we go through?
That is the question of the day.
(C) LIVVI

http://www.lulu.com/shop/olivia-kent/and-then-there-were-words-a-passion-for-poetry/paperback/product-21387117.html


This is the web link direct to my book **
Regards to you all,
Livvi **

Talk me down,
In meadows,
Lush,
Come touch me,
Undress me,
Love me,
Hold me,
In your heart and head,
As one,
Ravish me,
On fire,
While I'm dancing,
Through your art,
Hold my heart,
She'll kiss you,
When absent,
She will miss you,
Up and down,
Inside out,
She'll come along to greet you,
In style,
A fantasy met,
Talcum dusted,
Gold plated,
Saturated,
With her lovers art,
She bows to him,
In due respect,
And shares with him,
Her heart!
Ladylivvi 31/05/2013
All rights reserved!

Talk me down,
In meadows,
Lush,
Come touch me,
Undress me,
Love me,
Hold me,
In your heart and head,
As one,

Ravish me,
On fire,
While dancing through your art,
Hold my heart,
She'll kiss you,
When absent,
She'll miss you

Up and down,
Inside out,
She'll  come long to greet you,
In style,
Fantasy met,
Talcum dusted,
Gold plated,
Saturated,
With her lovers art,
She bows to him,
I due respect,
And shares with him,
Her heart!

Two green eyes look at me.
Cowering underneath the street light.
Starlight twinkles,reflecting.
She can barely, see the rest of the beast.
That shadow dweller hiding.
Only the eyes give the game away.
One empowering screech and out she dashes.
Quicker than a lightening flash.
She caught a waft of his horrible spray.
Decides, she wants to run away.
Tom, he's so unpleasant treats her with no respect.
He has a hundred kittens now, that Tom cat he has no regrets.
Player for all the ladies on the block.
They're all pretty *******, he's just a ***** tom cat ****!

TOMORROW

It is to be the first Friday of Ramadan,
no particular creed,
not Muslim or Jewish,
in particular,
all seem to take the blame,
so much ******,
diversionary tactics,
kidnap and ****** lust,
take not the children,
take not another,

I'm sure in all religions,
the prophets,
the Gods and idols,
declare thou shalt not ****,
unless of course you fancy Jihad,
humanity, well veered from the path,
for Heavens sake,
it's got so lost.
There are angels and demons,
deities and things to be,
and things to come,
but are they done?

Love your brothers,
love your sisters,
There is too much to lose,
We are human,
we should dig into our hearts,
to find compassion,
and you wonder why,
I don't do organised religion,
I'm sure you do,
they say all's fair in love and war,

I care not what religion you follow,
nor in whose name,
I care for all my fellow men,
in equal measures!
(C) Livvi

My thumb it got stuck in the door.
Hell on earth it's really sore.
It's black and blue.
Tender as a kitten.
Kitten desperate for milk.

Late for work.
In a rash dash.
Trying to get my coffee made.
Thumb wedged tight into the fridge.
Boss came with daily book.
Thumbnail black and blue.
Just look.
Expletives flew out by the score.

Given my sore thumb a name.
I called him Tom.
Cos he's very small and in much pain.
I won't do that again!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Living in shadows.
Trapped in a nightmare.
I believe that you're not.
Dreaming of blood  lust and burning regrets.
I seek not to be scared of you.
Nor leave you to rot.
My dearest sweet brother.
Never shall thy be forgot.
In thunder and lightning.
I shall never be frightened.
A hearts place is hiding.
Always shall be my brother.
For you shall always be king of my realm.
Far away in the shadow lands.
In darkness and always in light.
Stake me  not.
Nor forsake me.
My brother.
Much love always.
Eternally.
Your sister.
Loyal Artemia.
(C) LIVVI

He tickled her fancy with his tongue.
She laughed so much she drowned him.

This evening out I shall go.
Will be dancing and singing.
I will be wearing heels.
They'll make me ten feet tall.
Really don't need them.
I'm a tall girl anyway..
No I didn't say I'm a call girl.
Just a tall girl.
I shan't drink.
I don't think.

I shall dance on the ceiling.
Like an octopus.
Have no rhythm in my feet.
But I'll be dancing to the music.
Made by my best friend so sweet.
She will be playing in her band.
It will be a bit of fun.
A Pre-Christmas blast.

Then Monday morning will visit.
Will bring work to me again.
** ** **!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

I feel luck stroking my face,
a soothing summer breeze descends,
I'm simmering slowly at the lowest heat.
From my window,
at the end of Tuesday,
I see today's daylight,
it's dying slowly,
the peaceful death of a fire filled day.
so relieved to rest and relax.
The skyline stands,
it's dazzling,
a realm of tree shaped silhouette shadows,
almost a different world out there.
belief that tranquil moments are captured,
More beautiful as the garden cools,
virtual silence,
apart from a slight buzz of humming background traffic,
a duet in almost perfect rhythm by train lines performing their dutiful roles.
The slight noise hovering in the atmosphere makes me aware that life exists out there,
and it's hiding in the perfect twilight.
(C) Livvi

Daffodils kissed by raindrops ,and he's watching girls in crop tops, again.
They're younger than her, jealous be she at his sad fixations.
She doth concur that jealousy, be an involuntary sensation.
Could be repaired, if he showed her he cared.
He knows not how.
He cannot read her feelings like a book.
A tiny bit too young.
She is so precious, precocious at times.
You give her chocolates and she'll surely whine.
Rose red and white in carafes'.
Chasing tall women as leggy giraffes.
She's captured by the tiger's eye.
Waiting by the garden gate.
How much more must she wait,
For him to ascertain her pain.
Internal mental anguish, ripping apart.
The older gorgeous woman,whose young man stole her heart.
(c) LIVVI

Are you going out with your mother?
She heard them say to he.
She was not a mother,
Not his anyway.
Might have beens and maybes.
All flushed down the toilet pan.
Ultimately still a man.
With a mind of his own, apparently.
Cry freedom.
(C) Livvi

It's Christmas.
Get out those garlands.
String out those lights.
Drag in the conifer.
Smells so fresh.
Make those mince pies.
Ice your regal cake, crisp with white royal icing.
Um my heaven.
Buy packets of presents.
Hang up your stockings for Santa.
I'm sure he'd like you in them.
Men usually do you know.
***** Christmas present.
You know what?
Today 8th November.
The windows are sparkling with varieties of coloured lights.
It's 46 days till Christmas.
Someone tell my neighbours.
Hell it's much too early for all this hurly burly.
It's crippling the national grid!
(C) livvi

Topics!

We write of vaginas and old Morris Minor's,
Of flowers and mud.
Of crosses and blood.
Where angels and devils cross paths in our pens.
Temples and stables.
Fiction and fables.
We lay cards open wide,
splayed over our tables.

Sometimes of crying and lying and dying.
Of love that we found.
That which we have lost.
But we will keep trying.
No denying at all.
We're having a ball.

We pen tales of terror in world's mad distortion.
As the world scrapes nearer to each days abortion.
Write of myth and orange pith.

We scrawl what we scrawl in the hope that it's real.
Or maybe its what we saw in minds eyes.
In a darkened world of what ifs and whys.
One crazy man and one crazier chick.

All we both say hey, hey.
Offensive, defensive.
When time she merits.
Whatever fits at that time.

Of maladies and passions sprouts.
In words of others voice,
Never always mother tongue
Hell how we do play.
As to the Gods and Goddesses of poetry
We the two of the twenty do pray.
VVV Glory to poetry no matter what way!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Topics Two!

Of milkshakes and muppets.
And tragedy puppets.

Of flowers and showers.
And wiled away hours.

Of words of cruel tongues.
Obscuring our sons.

Of beer and fear.
And crazy rein deer.

Of Christmas gifts.
And crazy rifts.

Usually start at Christmas time.
Christmas spirits or maybe wine.

Of kings and queens.
And stupid scenes.

In Shakespear to endear.
Of drama.

And armour.
The knight's kitted out.


Of nightmares and scares.
And one who cares.

But noticed never not!
Of fears and tears.

And dogs and cats.
Wearing floppy hats.

Of nature.
And bees

And maturities kisses.
We hope no-one misses our words.

Always read.
Occasionally heard!

We pen another scatty ditty.
Because we live in fantasy.
A world of Walter Mitty!

That's a poet 's point of view.
Penned on here.
Just for you!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

To Post a Poem!

Find me a postage stamp to write a poem on.
In imagery implicit.
One tiny spot.
A need to fill with written power.
Finding language every hour.

Poetry intrinsic.
Intoxicates my heart.
My mind, my soul.
I shall write with graphite.
So if need I can erase,
As sometimes,
on my postage stamp.
I need to analyse my space.

By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Tory Politicians!

Mr and Mrs General Public,
Live in quiet servitude,
Bruised and battered,
Into perverse submission,

While sitting in the darkest realms,
Where they are destined to dwell,
Sat deep in satanic mines,
In the House of Commons,
Personification of evil,
Vile in heart in mind,
Was not their choice,
To be there,
Apparently,
They sure soon learned a lot,
Captivated by black spirits,
Ripped our hearts out,
Stole our souls,
Took all our finance too,
By manipulations black intent.

They have not the merest clue,
What they do to me and you,
For they are politicians working to their own agendas,
Maybe not demon spawn,
Souls however, not from real world,
Where poverty is king,
The wealthy and the affluent,
Well,
What life skills can they bring?

They live not on a budget,
Never live from hand to mouth,
The little people in U.K,
Do an honest days work,
From week to week,
To earn an honest days pay,
To only live from day to day!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
A slight rant from the English one x

A tumbling world fell round her ears.
She who knew him less than a year.
They fell in love a rash decision.
A total misdemeanour.
Love scratched at two.
Neither one who wanted it.
But still it came.
It came true and strong.
Not for long,
Sadly gone.

The sun shined on their love.
As if were blessed by heaven above.
Then autumn provided excuses of regret.
And winter chased them both.
Both chased away.
No regrets.
She knows not if again their paths will ever cross.
She hopes it will be so.
But not to love as love was lost.
Washed in pride so much is gone.
How much more is left to lose?
She would love to visit him again.
No more love.
No more pain.

By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

All things weird and wonderful.
The poet writes them down.
The words from nutty nightmares.
Well, most are preconceived.
When the words flow greatly
Emotions flow so free.
Go and put the kettle on.
I need a cup of tea!

Feeds my writes with darkness.
And with sweet flowers too.
Fill my head with poetry.
To stop me feeling blue.
(C) Livvi x

He sold his pure soul for a fiver,
maybe, the price of a cuppa tea,
sold it to the man of bonds,
of stocks and shares,
who had no cares,

The customer,
he wanted a *** or a ****,
wasn't sure which,
either would do.
Glimpsed him out the side of his eye,
what he didn't note was that he cried,
He didn't care the callous man,
Gets satisfaction however he can.

Girl child, boy child,
one thing for certain,
he gave not a ****.
He was selfish and cold,
his currency was gold,
pure gold the purity of just past infancy,
crowding in the shopping mall.

The by-passers wanted to intervene,
unable to believe the things that they'd seen.
Day by day,
still the stay,
They should still be free and able to play.

It's life in London, so they say,
Living pain day by day.
Thought that they may find the streets paved with golden kisses,
Home again the other side,
the punter hugs his Missus.
(C) Livvi

Remember remember the fifth of November.
It was gone in a flash
In bundles of *******.
Was not a celebration of Beethoven's fifth.
It was a night of celebration.
Celebrating that parliament survived.
A night of a million effigy's burning country wide.
Guy Fawkes burned annually.
Merry England.
Always full of tradition.
The night the air tastes of smoke.
(C) Livvi

Night fell silent.
The sky illuminated by a star of glory.
Showing the world which way to go.
A present for the future.
Child of honesty truth and love.
Laid blessed.
Silent.
In a tinsel covered sparkly cradle.

Started their trek to Bethlehem.
Found themselves in turkey.
Those wise men.
Well they were made of sage.
And onion.

'Fraid the lovely Mary.
In this modern version.
Was not quite a ******.
In the Christian way.
The Christmas story the ******.
Mary stood in an intact state of glory.
Proud of her gift to the world.

Honest Jo, was honest always.
Presents stashed below the tree.
The shepherds had their sheep dogs.
By hook or by crook.
They have their place of joy.
Within the Christian holy book.

Now,
Santa Claus,he gets a mention.
The mother of all fairy tales.
A jolly ** ** ** invention.
The only bells ringing out.
Are the peals of checkout beeps.
While.
The children of once modern day virgins do weep.
For the cost of living life nowadays.
Is oh so very steep.

Stand beside the story teller.
Carol,
She sung out of tune.
Underneath the Christmas moon.




By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

As swarm of aggressive multi-coloured ants,
Evening traffic charms the highway,
Eerie tree shadows haunt the carriageway at three o'clock,
Shadows will reconfigure and extend as time passes through the sundial of my trip,
This burning night, on the way to smoky city,
Inflames the melting tyres, smoking as if sticky molten caramel,
Bathes highway with red hot haze,
I jump as air conditioning, kicks in,
Conning me my journey's nearly done,
In the heat of the evening sun,
Wakes me from my slumbers doze,
Traffic slows through rush hour jams,
Dances,weaving lane to lane,
Through rush hour congestion's indigestion!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Settle.
You have made a rash decision.
Thrown yourself away.
Take a chill pill.
Not literally I swear of course.
Put your head back on the level.
Put your feet back on the ground.
That does not mean, your  put your head upon the block.

In your sorrow
I do not revel.
Detest to see you in so many pieces.
I realise you're broken and hurting to bits.
Don't wipe yourself away.
Reinstate the poems that you've taken.

My friend a huge mistake you've made.
I know you have.
For the sake of cross wires.
Please don't crucify yourself inside.
Just rest and recover.
This has messed me, as much as thee.
Sweet man.

Reconsider your tragic actions so rash!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)