The room smelled of body heat.
Perfume,
aftershave.
Passion.
An atmosphere of fire lingers.
Sparks emitted from the end of their fingers.
Outside the door, listen hard.
Hear more, not that you should be.
Smells of pure burning ***.
Are you  really sure what's going on?
Influenced by paranoia, an evil hex.
(c) Livvi

Body Parts

The holy two of us.
Danced bare naked in the acid rain.
Stripped tissue from bone.
Caused deep pain.
More pain than either ever knew.
Bi-laterally scarred.

Internal scarring.
Heart ripped out and left behind.
She left her heart in your bedroom.
Her head on the bus.
Left her memories in the dustbin.

All the memories of us.
Maybe not.
He's never forgot.
She left her womanhood there in his brain.
So he could fantasize about her as he plays.
She left her mouth in the spot,
The spot he loved it best.
I'll let him think and remember the rest.

It's so sad it all went rotten.
Let two crazy poets never forget.
Each others feelings deeply.
With never not an ounce of regret!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Bomb shelter shrugs off destructive blast.
Love is in denial at last.
A fracture spiral.
Caused pain.
Mended with pins and plates.
Strengthened a joint.
A joint once busted.
With no icing sugar dusted.
(C) LIVVI  2014

Oh mamma, why did you kiss the atom bomb?
One quick boom.
You were gone.
(c)Livvi

Bomber command all set for a mission.
Reconnaissance and rendezvous, somewhere around half past two.
The sun beats down at half past twelve.
Fuelled up, all set to fly.
First command flew earlier.
All back safe and well.

Yesterday they lost a chap.
Jasper got nobbled by an English fella with a smoking gun.
A right good shot he got.
Got him from the blind side.
Crashed straight into a passing car.
Should've seen the wreckage.
Car crashed into another.

Sodding seagulls, real pests.
Tried to grab a  poor boys pasty.
Things got really really nasty!
English seagulls by the coast.
The father of the son, made the pasty stealing seagull another wholly ghost!
(C) LIVVI

There's something delicious about bone china tea cups.
Edged with gilt and white inside.
Little flowers so delicate ran around the sides.
Obviously pastel colours are the only apt' ones.
The tea must be  really hot with a few grains of sugar.
The class of the bone china cup makes the English tea taste better.
(C) Livvi

The air is autumn.
Smell of yesterday enters the air.
Yesterday's furniture.
Piles of junk.
Flaming ablaze.
Flaming amazing.
As I said smell the air.
Don't stand too close though.
No fingers burned.
It feels so good.

Don't need the heating on.
Rely on the bonfire burning bright.
To keep me warm for a while tonight.
Great excuse to destroy the flammable trash.
Only reminder, a pile of ash.
Smell of burning.
Aged brush wood.
A flaming bonfire.
So good so refreshing.
Fireworks such an expensive waste of hard earned cash.
Don't want my wages to go up in a flash.
A good bonfire is just so gratifying.
November the 5th, smelly fun.
Livvi

It's not too long until Guy Fawkes night,
A month and a bit, I believe,
Crunching damp upon the grass,
many autumn leaves,
they're laying underfoot.

It's getting a little chilly now,
The children all have mittens on,
Where on earth's that kitten gone?
kittens should really stay inside.

The bonfire almost a mile high.
A nervous mummy hides inside.
Daddy sets fire to the pile of trash,
hoping that by the morning,
should just be a pile of grubby ash.

Potatoes are all wrapped in tin foil,
you see,
who will take them from the fire?
not me.
A gigantic box of fireworks,
pyrotechnics display.
Wahey!
They should all thrill the sky,
supposed to do them one at at time,
David running round like a lunatic,
had one can too many,
and a couple of glasses of cheapish wine.

Tripped over a stone,
fireworks,
all went off with a boom.
A crash,
a whizz,
a crazy zoom.
A sudden flash,

Blew the roof off,
destroyed the living room,
The kitten hid under the couch,
The dog he dashed into the garden,
with his tail between his legs.
David felt a real wally,
cos he was off his trolley.

Very carefully crept into the living room,
to find the tiny ***** cat,
cowering in the gloom.
The remnants of bonfire night,
not much left of the living room.

Of course,
as this is just a funny poem,.
That little kitten,
well, she was safe and well!
(C) Livvi

BONKERS FAMILY
I think the world is going bonkers today,
Eating two tubs of tiramisu for lunch,
Blow the savoury brunch.
Chased them down with two doughnuts,
And half a bucket of tea.
Women's roles just aren't what they used to be.
Never cooks,
prepares no food,
Cooks nothing to feed her hungry brood.
Daddies at home looking after the kids.
I think the world is going bonkers today.
When the gender divide remains undecided.
When the lovely lady in your life,
The one you once called your wonderful wife.
Disappears down the local to play snooker with her mates.
Every Sunday regular dates.
Always faithful,always true.
While you the dutiful husband is knocking out Sunday lunch.
The children are positioned very quietly ,sitting in front of the latest widescreen TV.
The only babysitting service, that's virtually free.
So, I think the world is definitely going bonkers today.
Mum smiles sweetly,
As she pulls on her boots,
She's off out to play.
Again.
(C) Livvi

Boo!

One and one make two.
Coterie of magic made.
One on one create.

The rudiment of life.
Shown in embryonic form.
Implant.
Once protected against unwanted risk.
Removed.
Another wanted implant
Now implanted in the wall of life.

Once was mere ball of jell.
Definite form created.
Gesticulation unborn wave.
Still in uterine home.
Impregnable in warm and cosy world.
Glancing via ultrasonic image waving back.

Forty weeks or thereabouts.
Grand entrance made.
Visage of cutie.
Baby beauty.
Born at last.
Welcome to the world of life!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

She was the ***** prize, he left her cos she had none.
He was a right ***!

It's a case full of poetic justice.
The only feelings I express are those of spoken words.
In my brain hides a bookworm.
It's feeding me with ideas.
His name is Jack.
Jack 'O' Lantern.
Lighting up my inspiration.
Once he swallowed a dictionary.
He ingested the contents and fed them to me.
I use them as free expression.
Having buckets of fun.
(C) Livvi

Bouquet of Barbs! Memorial Flowers!

Sea of flowers,
Beautiful,
No ebb and flow,
In your presence,
Emotion felt,
A presence blessed in lonely solitude,
A final cheerio,

You will lay there rippling,
As just the crowds pass by,
The summer breeze will touch your heart,
Will try to raise a smile,
Pavement placed,
In tragedy's distribution space,

Few short days,
You'll be gone too,
With only memories left in view!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Bouquet of Barbs! Memorial Flowers!

Sea of flowers,
Beautiful,
No ebb and flow,
In your presence,
Emotion felt,
A presence blessed in lonely solitude,
A final cheerio,

You will lay there rippling,
As just the crowds pass by,
The summer breeze will touch your heart,
Will try to raise a smile,
Pavement placed,
In tragedy's distribution space,

Few short days,
You'll be gone too,
With only memories left in view!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

You lay back on  my outstretched arms.
Your baby blue eyes sparkle up at me, between episodes of crying the blues.
I regret omitted feelings between mummy and I.
Indeed for the rest of my gang
John Legend cries "All of you" and I believe never before have I been so overwhelmed.
Not really my sort of sound, our song from now on.
2/52, is that enough to fall in love?
You bet it is.
I'm not eager to meet and greet children, probably just a bit too old.
But I peep into Bradley's eyes, I am no longer cold.
(C)Livvi

Beautifully asleep.
Savouring moments deliciously dressed in bed covers of too many lovers.
All familiar to him.
His mother,his father.
He's a cause of great laughter.
With chuckles and giggles.
Waking from sleep.
Peeking through eyelids.
Slowly.
As he wakes with each breath he takes.
(c)Livvi MMCV

The chrysalis unfurls.
A bundle of rolled up rags that wriggles at times,
The photographs speak volumes and photos never lie.
He is a miniature parcel of ****** expressions, breaking free.
Not walking, but moving.
My amazing grandson,
soon to find his wings and fly.
Six months old today.
(c)Livvi

BRAVE OR STUPID?

The window cruised by.
Flew by in a flash,
passed her eye.
She was so lucky, that it didn't smash,
She was so attached to him,
as he grabbed on tight to her hair.

She believed he really cared.
That's what she said after I rescued her.

A gang of jellied children,
looked on in disbelief,
watching the demonic gentleman,
Gentleman? I beg to differ,
giving the lady bags of grief.

I wandered down the holy road,
the one that led down to the church,
I wasn't going there,
not my direction,
was going to the local shop,
seeing this,
I had to stop.

I didn't want the children to bear witness to this scene.
That would have been so mean.
Maybe to trigger their nightmares for many days to come,

So Olivia,
yes that's me,
Grabbed the lady,
who may or may not have been a real lady,
definitely a person still.
I took her by the the hand,
I marched her off,
we left him shunned and stunned,
The two of us we walked away in confidence,
the demon beat.
My good deed for the day.

On reflection.
Was I brave that day,
or was I really stupid?
(c) Olivia

Late breakfast in the cafe of sins,
The one where all the calories hang out,
Cholesterol climbs up the tasty mountain,
Counting the calories that pile onto her voluptuous waist,
Like hell she did.
A devious mischievous taste.
She nibbles at mushrooms,  just like Alice did,
The sliced up sausages chucked on to her plate,
Taste real great,
The beans as much too freaking hot.
The eggs are runny, just like snot, but that's how she likes them,
The bacon squealed, as it jumped from her plate, wrapped up in tissue,
Dog thought it great,
And the Turks, they sat with their wives,
******* like crazy on sweet Shisha pipes!
(C) Livvi

BREAKFAST DREAMS.
So much for fancying porridge.
Stepped out of the door to buy some.
Got lashed by sky and her drenching powers.
Yesterday superlative.
Today,somewhat naive.
The wind and rain out there today.
Enough to bring me to my knees.
abundance of rain.
Sunday pain.
Have to think again!
(C) LIVVI

The darkest kiss of night comes just before the scratch of dawn,
Cutting through with sunlight's knife,
Distressed, as getting torn,
A spray of light's salvation,
Drawn in and collected,
Illuminating daybreak,
As she snaps.

Sour weather brews today,
Sky escape bloodied,
Laced dot of broken cloud,
Lashed together,
United by pinkish diamond flashes.

By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Swear that today a struggling, dripping bluebell was trying to pull itself from my sodden garden.
Could almost hear it crying out, maybe gasping for breath or struggling to reach the light.
Praying not for a landslip, to bury it before it's birth, the showing of it's dainty face not withheld.
You see, I live at the top of a *****, where water runs back to the sea.
So you see my home's secure it can't catch me.
Hold hope close at heart, that soon their bells of blue will ring.
Welcoming the spring.
(c) LIVVI x

Breathe,

Breathe not all my air,
We need enough to share,
To breathe along in life's release,
In passion flowers bounded,
In scarlet roses,
Truth surrounds,
No thorns to scratch,
My slender dainty fingers.

As we fall we sleep,
As we sleep we fall,
Curled up,
Protecting from harm,

In freedom we revel,
Sweetness from chocolate box,
And coffee cups,
Laced with flavour,
Taste to savour,
Exquisite!
Livvi Kent 05/06/2013
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

BREATHTAKING
I would hold my last breath for you.
Hold it tight and never let go.
I feel a spark from far in my heart.
A trigger captured in my eyes.
A vision, a perfect image.
Held close while sleeping.
Omitted when awake,
pardon me not,
for these things,
for I do not understand,
Sparks generate fires at times,
leaving fingers charred and burned,
So for now at least desires concealed.
My breath is released.
Your precious image is saved,
So I can dream more,
until our next meeting.
Our eyes will rest.
Fast asleep in beautiful dreams.
(C) Livvi

Broken!

I wandered lonely as a cloud,
Not very happy,
Nor very proud,
I trashed all of those flaming daffodils
Chucked them all,
Around the hills,
All their bulbs dug up,
Uprooted.

Saw you standing there,
Ignoring me again,
Kicked me in the teeth,
Once more,
Sent me to realms,

You fed my pain,
Dances crazy in diamond rain,
Amused,
While waiting for my tea,
I needed you to feed me,

Thinking why in hell,
There is no chance for me,
Fool of soul mate,
Cannot see,
Mixed in bits,
Stays in fear,
Of never getting fixed!

Can't move in,
Through tight locked gates,
For fear of getting stuck,
In a flaming new romance,

Where blooms potential shines,
Little chance,
For two delightful Soul mates,
Who can only dance,
In moonlights lustre,
As she Spreads despair,
Declares,
True love is killed,
Stone dead!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Crack heads are broken.
Got busted today.
Speed freaks are dashing.
They're running away.
Coke heads are scheming and plotting with glee.
Doleful of finance, next hits for free.
Signing on,
Dosh all gone.
Up the noses one supposes.
Broken noses smelling roses.
Maybe the vein, all a game.
And the corrupt minister adjusts his wig.
Hoping desperately no one will twig
He's as bad as the rest, drugging taking pest.
Nations corrupt vexation.
(C) LIVVI

BROKEN HEARTS MEND
To mend a broken heart, a few magical ingredients are needed.
An operation that no surgeon can perform.
Firstly, ****** a strand of cupid's hair.
Thread it through a needle made from the tiny sinews from the wings that the bright blue butterfly donated to your cause.
You must hold the damaged heart gently, between the mender's fingertips.
While the repairer's daughter clutches the magnifying glass,steadily.
The owner of the heart begins to stitch.
Tenderly fixing the furrows that gape.
All possible care duly given, eliciting the right solution.
A word in the ear of the white witch of love and then the magic takes it's effect.
Across the crowded room a smile is a stretched.
She's stunning the lady.
The lady whose heart was mended in a similar way a number of months ago.
Two smiles meet.
The magic worked.
And they said it was just an old wives tale!
(C) Livvi

Broken Sleep!

My sleep tonight.
She flew out of the window.
Carried off on night jar's wings.
Seeking out the silent owl.
These ungodly hours.
Sleep drifted in abnormally.
Chased me.

Caught me unawares.
Just after nine I found repose.
Just a ****** mere doze.
Woke up at three with head of words.
A good night's sleep.
Much needed gift.

Now out of sleep so short I drift.
Finding words.
Totally miffed.
Brain on fire.
Going berserk.
Few short hours til I work.
Gee whizz, Livvi,
You're such a ****!

By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

I am just a city girl, I'm calling up at city lights.
The daily roar of traffic, unsettling on this chilly Tuesday night.
I am frightened by my shadow, as sunlight comes around.
I ran along the pathway outside my darkened house.
Heard a creature snuffling, perhaps it was a mouse.
Then my lovely carer crept outside the bungalow.
Oh no, my shuffler got trod on.
She thought it was the discarded head of a tatty old brush.
A broom head, chucked out in the gloom.
It was a little hedgehog.
Poor creature creeping around in the dark.
Went indoors.
Found a torch.
The pig of the hedge had gone.
My carer told me she felt guilty.
I said she need not be.
As the hedgehog, scared by heavy feet.
Was up the pathway nibbling meat.
The meat was meant for me.

(c)LIVVI

Bubbles!

Driving me nuts in crazy excitement.
My bubble burst.
It truly did.
So very soft and shiny.
I am truly so addicted.
It's a dreadful addiction.
For when I get my pen out.
Truth is stronger than fiction.
My goodness.
I chat some crap.
Sat playing with my bubble wrap!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Am I to be an anemone,
with florescent blue petals,
chalky stamens hid inside,
dwelt within my calyx,
I  have waited impatiently to break free,
dusted in vibrant blue.
I digress, for I am not an anemone,
Find my only friendship in bees,
stripy buzzing vested bees,
For I am a lady locked up,
I am beginning to gush.
(C) Livvi

Precious flower budded.
Pastel pink, with scarlet skirt.
Sat almost in an acorn cup.
Shut tight.
Dressed in waxy coat.
Shrugging off the raindrops, as they splash back.
Exploding from the pool of slush.
Once known as the garden.
Locked up inside new life.
She opens gradually.
Face looking for the springtime sun.
Seeking novel inspiration.
To cheer in new seasons.
Reflective in restoration.

A subtle buzz.
Hums it's own tune.
His pollen sacks bear no heaviness.
He can't bear it.
Look closely.
You can maybe see his tears.
Perhaps he'll starve.
Maybe his hive can't thrive.
Flowers may be once again be kissable.
When winters rain has died.
(C) Livvi 2014

There are no flowers standing in my garden.
I find them resting underground.
I believe they sleep in silence.
Avoiding the cold.
Not missing the frost.

They hide inside bulbs.
Buried, as if deceased.
Come the sunlight in spring time after being ladies in waiting.
Dressed in spring green they may peep up, first as tiny shoots.
Faces beautiful, they shall surely follow.
Lest they sadly drowned in vitro.
(C)LIVVI

She knew not what she did that day.
The day she let bunny out to play.
His hutch lay vacant, her bunny was gone.
Tear trickled down her rosy cheek, missing her bunny.
She left for the party at the end of the week.
Put on her gear which was somewhat perverse.
Short skirt and sharp black patent heels.
Through the graveyard on this bright moonlit night,
Carefree and happy, would be meeting her chappy.
Her heel got caught in the muddy clay.
Fell to her knees.
From a cavity in the ground, appeared menacing bunny.
In his best huntsman’s jacket, he was out to find prey
In a bit of a panic, she realised she was trapped.
Caught in chains.
She petted him every day.
Tonight was bunny’s time to play.
She was his bunny girl.
© Livvi

His name was Natas and he drove the Uni-Link.
Keen occupation.
For a hellish dude.
He didn't wear any aftershave, with even a slight sulphuric twang.
He wore a bristling beard, that just covered up his pointed chin.
This bus driver.
Pleasant looking chap.
Was he really the bringer of mortal sin?
Really the bus driver this Saturday morn.

He smiled at the ladies.
Flat cap perched on his head.
It covers up his mini horns.

He was driving the ten thirty from Swaythling.
Off to town we go.
Hi **.
He drove safely and sensibly.
Got me to my stop.
My destination wasn't hell.
Neither was his today.
(c)Livvi

The land it's name was faraway.
A land so pretty,
The land where fairies play.
The grass verdant and succulent.
Glows in the midday sun.
The trees bow inadvertently to the fairies passing by.
Fairies bearing various gender.
Girl folk with flowing straw like hair, bound with strands of strawberry flair.
Menfolk wearing doublet and hoes.
Black and green.
Obvious features, all fairy men folk sport a pointed nose.
Elder folk, they have aching knees.
Hair tinged with tiger stripes of grey and black.
Could have been zebra stripes,but the elderly fairies, can be just a little spritely, temperamental at times.
They sit under willow trees.
Writing, busking rhymes.
Listen without witness, you'll swear you'll hear them sing.
Leave a pretty penny in the spot where you have been.
Walk silently away.
Peer over your left shoulder and you may just glimpse the fairy queen.
If you should be so lucky.
(c)Livvi

On the bus I heard a fellow decrying Americans at war,
Said all were yellow bellied cowards,
I found this most distasteful,
Wanted to bite him , to lash him with my tongue,
To unwrap a box of disrespect,
Tell him not to generalise,
To speak out about causing such offence,
From discussion of cowardice,
He digressed to general sundry,
The price of fish and wages,
Along with the price of beer,
Felt sorry for the mousy wife,
Who never marked his card,
To get a word in edge ways would have been extremely hard!
I am an English woman thought this so unfair!
© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Seven in a week,
Disgusting, she hears you say,
The first one, well he maybe the last,
This one left religion chucked upon her path.
She loved very him much, just because she could.
He made her feel,
So relaxed, extreme tranquility.
The second one,
He gave her a super blast,
The third.
She loved him rapidly, with  blazing renewed passion,
The third one was very hot, yesterday's one became forgot,
Had nothing much to offer her, so she washed him out of hair,
The fourth one he was wonderful,
She got half way through and then they stopped,
Gave up for the day.
The fifth one, he was noisy, he made too much racket,
****** fellow, just wanted to be one of the boys,
Got up and left without even goodbye,
Just shoved his finger in her  eye.
Made her tears flow,
Only one more of them to go.
Very nearly over, had enough of them,
the days of the week so pleasantly displayed as flipping men.
Last one round was Saturday, a nothing much the matter day!
The end of the week brings with it relief!
(c) Livvi

Buttercups Diversify!
Posted by Olivia Kent on June 19, 2013 at 11:46am
View Blog
Buttercups Diversify!

In peach tinted temple of time,
Painted in poetry's dreams,
We kiss, we talk, we ,
Writing leisure through pleasure and pain,

I laid on your bed,
You bathed my shoulders so sore,
Left me smouldering with desires for you,
You donated to me, while we played in daylights sweet kiss,
A sweet single bright buttercup,
Dressed in waxen yellow,
Precious petals sparkling, shining ,
Glowing in the afternoon, after laying on the the spiky dry grass,
After dancing had passed,

A garden full of dreamers dressed in pink and white, blessed with fragrance, pure.
Collected from a century of rose tree,
The tree had seen much over the years about a century I was told,
Witnessed bombings in the blitz,
Watched mother's father's children's kiss,

Flowers of such beauty, dressed with a drizzle of love's sensation tickles,
As the dance goes on!
By ladylivvi1
© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

In memory,the despised lepidoptera.
Wings ripped in three.
Shreds of vanished memory.
Flies on ripped silent wings no more.
Carried on a breeze of tears.
On wings so sore.
Only the breeze can fly.
Before the ripping of the wings.
Was once sweet symmetry.

A waste of years of plentiful wishes.
Wanton.
Risque.

In expectation excited.
Fed fire with fire.
Long since smouldered.
Flaming desire tragic.
The sorcery dispersed.
The heart of broken magic.

Should the hate crack on.
Smash not the crystal casket.
In which the lady sleeps.
Eternally weeps in silence.
Cost of lost love.
Mourns the cost.
Of love forgot.
While sweet angel sleeps!

By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Let's have a picnic under the trees.
Between the grass blades, a hay fever sneeze.
We can watch bumblebees dancing on flowers, they're floating on air.
We can eat sandwiches, loaded with tuna and cucumber for a few hours and delicious cream cakes.

Then came forth the wasps, not so pleasant, they bothered us.
Much more than the bees did before.
Toasting summer with ma, who sat on the grass, lemonade sipped by my mother and me.
Mother said" sit still and they 'll let you be".
Me being me, just had to flap.
Waspish creature got stuck under my cap, tangled up in my sweet lacquered hair.
I panicked and ran, flicked him out of my hair, out he flew.
Straight up my swirly pink gingham skirt.
Little beast got me, my how it hurt.
(c) Livvi MMCV

A life spent filling my body with chemicals.
Buzzing like a rampant bee.
Off to put the *** on.
Again,
I think that's three since eight.
Great......smooth, delicious.
Need another coffee, must be piping hot.
The only worthwhile chemical I got.
The only fix I need, no tea and no ****.
(C) LIVVI

I was there.
I held you in full view when she threw you to your knees.
I watched as she horse whipped your heart, the way that you whipped mine.
I laughed so hard that tears of ice crystals burnt my cheeks.
Once I was bitter, always sharp as lemon drops,
Acid drops of fantasy.
Bleed baby bleed.
The knots are stressed they're fast and tight.
You wore your just desserts like a child, pathetic and quivering.
A strange shade of vile hit me hard.
I smiled.
I thought out loudly to the world, thank god I'm free.
Reviled drunks and hunks.
Then I thought again, you know.
This piece of spiteful nastiness really isn't me.
But after a ****** day at work it made me feel better.
(c)Livvi