Paint me naked with your pen.
Write me naked with your quill.
See me naked in your mind.
Open your eyes wide.
Rip my cloak from my shoulders.
Unbutton my crisp white linen blouse.
Open it wide.
Peel it back.
I'll turn around.
You may unfasten my fresh white bra.
I feel fresh too.
Remove my breast restraint.
Let it fall to the floor.
Run your fingers down my spine.
It's wholly sensitive.
Undo my jeans.
Gently slip them over my form.
Cautiously lay me on your bed.
We kiss with fire.
My ****** are black.
They're French in style
Now you see me near naked.
And then que sera sera!
(C) Livvi

Monday morning she rises fine,
Sunshine in her hair.
Scented Elderflower fills the air.
Her heart beat pounds with good intention.
So loud he can but truth perceive.
A relief to be of their lonely damnation,
Two of them leave this here right there.
Here and there, coming and going.
Friends from past love affairs.
Nobody knowing.
Nobodies' there and nobody cares.
For the long lost lady with the sun painted hair.
Leaves by the back door,
Discreetly dressed in lemon juice ,sweet.
Walks down the pathway.
Tripping on air,hornets nest hung in her hair.
He's a ****** leaver, mystic magic weaver.
She's left on her own.
Here and there, coming and going.
Friends from past love affairs
Nobody knowing.
Nobodies' there and nobody cares.
For the long lost lady with the sun painted hair.
It's Friday morning, the chips are down.
The roulette wheel flipped out again
It's rolled into town, pursued by the others, the long lost lovers.
The bills still need paying, her baby's still playing.
She's left on her own again.
Here and there coming and going .
Friends from past love affairs.
Nobody's knowing.
Nobodies' there and nobody cares.
For the long lost lady with the moon sprinkled hair.
(c) Livvi

Blessed not am I, with financial wealth.
Treasures are given in souls of family.
Given a baby in perfect health.
Escaped from cossetted womb, now free.
A boy so precious, hair of down.
Dainty ears and tiny eyes.
May he never draw a frown.
Adore him even when he cries.
Aroma  of pure newborn scent.
Give him all the love you've got.
Darling boy, pure heaven sent.
Laid as precious treasure in his cot.
Stand up for him, henceforth defend.
On you may he always rely,his grandma and his friend.
(c) Livvi

Sat in the car at the back of beyond.
Beyond reasoning what I'm doing here.
I fear.
Anti clockwise rhythms, rhyming with the guy who's nice.
My head's obliterated and my heart is cool as ice.
He's a box of soppy.
She's a box of stroppy.
Confusing muses puzzling.
Nudging.
Percolating.
Brewing.
Never beer or whine I fear.
She supposes she can maybe love him again.
After the sunshine blew thunder and rain.
Maybe a little love be retained.
Enigmatic future.
(c) Livvi

Don't cry baby.
Your daddies gone off hunting.
He wants to get a trophy.
Just so you can see.
What a clever boy he's been!

Introduction to a child of everything that's  mean.
Daddy tell your little kid.
Of all the vile things you did.
Bet you can't, bet feel ashamed.
Of taking part in cruel sport and labelling it a game.

"Son, daddy fox is called a dog.
Mummy fox a *****.
Baby foxes little cubs soppy as a kitten"
A spot of education..
Hell  hounds have a job to do, apparently.
Together, language of us common folk will paint the sky bright blue.
"Jackanory".
***** story.
Written by the Tories.
For fox sake keep the ban.
Speak out loud while we still can!
(c)Livvi

The horse is dead.
Long beyond flogging.
It's skin was stripped by a couple of tanners.
After being treated with tenderness.
That horse was merely a hobby.

An old broom handle.
Minus emotions.
A head full of kapok.
And a heart made of wood.
Nobody could love him.
Nobody should.

He ran around the stables.
Knocking down the mares.
Where once he had just knocked them up,
As he was out to stud.

The rag and bone man came to call.
Saw him laying in the yard.
Left his calling card.
The child who once loved him so.
Decided she must let him go.
The rag man he received a call.
Collected hobby horse.
He gave her a bright and shiny quid.
Slung him on the back of his cart.
Stuck him in the shop window.
While his mares passed by and laughed.




By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

A body encases a heart and a mind,
No simpler answer could you ever find,
Look deeper inside,
What lurks within,
Beneath a mantle of silken skin,
Skin with a face that sports a smile,
With eyes that twinkle, sparkles sprinkled,
Some have tresses that glow in the light,
Under the hair, the location of care,
The seat of emotions, locked up in a head,

A neck, slender supports along with a spine,
Arms to hold close, to cosset and care,
Rib cage encases the heart of poetic art,
The heart when she functions, is easily broken,
When love falls apart, it cuts through the heart,

A series of chemical interactions,
Disturbed a great deal by other's reactions,
Bodies are beautiful temples,
A place to retreat,
Bodies need pampering to keep them sweet,
So look after yours well,
Treat it kind,
Respect your body,
Respect your mind!

By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

The Girl with the Auburn Hair!

Once was a young sweet woman.
With long and flowing auburn hair.
Time passed with no dignity.
Cracks and crevasses appeared.
A face of furrows, where ages burrowed.
Where once did kindness dwell.

Bitter and twisted and hurting like hell.
She's nobody's fool.
No longer loves puppet.
This once sweet young woman she stood.
And she laughed.
Curled up in fits.
At the fool on the hill.

A disparaging manner in loves lost disgust.
So obviously vanished.
When once his friendship.
Wholly did trust.
Now all that remains.
Only tears of dust.

Not mad just disillusioned.
Love hoodwinked her heart.
Keeps her safe.
Just for using, abusing and musing with fire.

Tossed away without a care.
The beautiful heart.
With auburn hair!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

1720, work’s all done.
Listen boss, I got to dash.
Stopped at florist.
Bought red roses for his lover.
Ran down the street clutching his bunch.
Glanced at his watch.
Sees that he’s late.
To meet the wife.
Anniversary date.
Puts his hand in jacket pocket.
Aims to find his mobile.
Silly sod forgot it.

Got to the phone box on the corner of the street.
Waited a minute or two.
Until in desperation, to give apologetic explanation.
Tap, tap tap, he rapped.
Bashes on the phone box door.
A silly old dear with hair rinsed in blue.
Spins round with venomous tongue.
Shouts out loud.
“Be patient son”.
“Can’t you see I’m having a chat!”
Chatter chatter.
Natter natter.
On and on she went.
Dude outside was going mental.

Mrs Ancient left the cubicle.
Throwing ***** looks around.
Huffing a puffing, like the dragon she is.
The flower man flies in the box.
Receiver picked up.
Dials lady lover’s number.
Typically the number’s engaged.
So, spitting fire the fella’s enraged.
Tired of trying to explain.
Knowing his next train is due in a while.
Runs from the kiosk not wearing a smile.
In his ire he chucked the roses.
Landed in the ******* bin.
At the terminus of train at last.
The flower seller grinned at him.
She could see his stress shine through.
Sold him a bunch of lilies of peace.
Before on to the train he swept.

Key in the front door.
Inside he ventured.
Smelling cremated dinner burn.
“Oops darling I’m so sorry.
You’d never believe the day I had.
See darling.
I didn’t forget our anniversary!”
(C) Livvi 2014

I believe the year has become a little bit disjointed.
A little muddled up.
The night before this very day.
I rolled indoors after a night upon the town,
My spot of going out to play.
Mother develops a mighty frown.
Came in late from local town.
Every light in the house was on.
I thought maybe it was October.
All the windows shone a mighty glow.
I thought I'd arrived for Diwali.
(c) Livvi

I think I'm in bits.
Believe I'm in pieces.
Tumbling love sent via tornado's breath.
Fell in the gutter.
Pre-drowning I splutter.
No vile words can I utter.
You warned me.
So did thee feed me pre-cursor to a demise of dancing.
Dancing in idle-wild in rose garden.
Beat got lost enroute.
Wild child of 50.
Who wants to die alone.
Never to feel a satin touch.
The feel of silk upon your skin.
Stroke the hair of angel.
Teased between gentle fingers.
Maybe the sensation lingers.
Maybe the book of face broke.
Expression missing.
Time to toughen up.
Not be soft and sweet.
Be a mercenary *****.
They say all's fair in love and war.
I wage no wars.
Just won't care.
Will be a wicked witch.
From here on in.
Now I start.
Here I begin!

Livvi Kent 24/09/2013.

There are two of involved in this battle.
One of us just making war.
Two of us made love in summer.
Both of us just lived for spring.
Walking hand in hand together on beaches.
Beside streams.
Sadly it seems.
That the river's polluted.
The sea it froze.
The beach was covered in oil slicks and washed up dead birds.
Separately at differing places at different times, we stroll on the seashore.
We pick over the bones of those who are lost.
A figurative exercise.
Working out why we are at war.
Why we ever were.
Together in the first place.
Two lost souls walking through dark passages.
Seeking and finding.
Hunting as predators.
Wanting to eat love.
Swallow it.
So hungry.
Ate too many.
Far too many.
Breathing space.
Broken hearts.
Fractured faces.
Time repairs.
Wait and see.
Whatever will be will be.
(c)Livvi MMXV

Sat in the room at that back of the house.
Where all my secrets hang out.
They're hanging about.
Somewhat strung.
Hiding inside my vacant head.
T.V. flashes colours of psychedelia,
Beatles concert in full swing.
Hopped onto the merry-go-round.
Tagged on for the ride,
Thought I'd scrawl a word or two,
Before more memories invade my sorry head.
Sad because, you're gone.
Now, only tired memories hang out in my troubled head.
You know what baby, one day we'll both be dead.
I'll still have cupid's ******* arrow transfixing in my heart.
Until the day, my mortal coil sprung, at the setting of my silent sun .
(C) Livvi

There's a great big area deep in the Amazon,
It's called the basin,
It's made of plastic, made by tefal,
The tribesmen go a hunting,
They're going mining, deep into the basin of the tAmazon,
They're going chocolate mining,
Down, down, down they creep, sliding down them plastic edges, slippery but very steep,
Go into the darkened halls,
Where chocolate stalagmites, they grow,
As it's getting hotter and hotter and the air is getting sickly sweet,
The drips and drops are falling fast as stalactites fall down,
The mine's all filled with chocolate, what a crazy dream,
There are funny little fellows, hiding in the chocolate ghetto,
Hyperglycaemic,  they're flying on the sugar rush.
(C) Livvi

Being the Other Woman, Metaphorically!
Have to sit and dream a touch,
As passion for poetry dictates loves depths,
I spoke to her with tender tongue and quill of truthful trusting passion flowers,
Resistance is far fetched,
For she is the other woman who strokes my life gently,
But with burning fire,
She caresses you too,
Three lovers wrapped in one embrace,
At times pure with tranquility,
Always blessed with grace,
This special lady has her dark moments too,
She always makes us happy in everything we write,
I have to share my love for you,
In that I have no choice,
She is shared in my heart,
The cutest sweetest lady who is our poetic art,
I share your heart, I share your soul,
In darkness she's our anchor,
In brightness we adore her,
In conversations imagery,
She speaks, tells me that you love her, of that she is aware,
She also speaks to me in volumes, in telling me how much you care!

My Sweet Lover!

VVV, Glory to poetry, glory to us **
This one's for you Chris **

By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Puts on her heavy ***** boots.
Flicks her hair back over her shoulders.
Slap on her face.
She's out on the pull.
Wants to ****** another fool.

This girl she looks so flaming cool.
Her fingers smart.
Nails manicured.
Scented lady.
Red hair then falls over her face.
Out on the hunt has no disgrace.

She cares not who she snares.
Cares not who she hurts.
Just out to catch the jack of hearts.
Like the jacks caught her before.
It's ladies night.
She's out to even the score.

Physically will not destroy them all.
Use abuse him like a toy.
Mentally she will make him.
Every little tiny bit.
Make him want her all.
And more.
Her turn to even up the score.
Want her with power.
He will want to send her flowers.
Will want to feed her chocolate dreams.
To try to make her melt.
This iron lady.
When death meets in a furnace.
Only will her heart melt again.


By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Sat on the bridge.
Legs dangling, swinging in the breeze.
Look closely and little skittish fishes flying like sunlit darts.
Throwing twigs in, so naughty is what we are.
We just love watching them drifting and riding the tide.
Oh look, there's a bigger fish, not a minnow or a stickleback, a little trout maybe.
Gone to quickly, won't be tonight's tea.
A flash of vibrant colour.
Faster than light.
The strike of the kingfisher.
Doubtlessly he caught our trout.
(c)Livvi

It's eleven 'o'clock.
Too early for lunch.
But,good for a nibble.
Carrots sticks.
Weetabix.
Lots of coffee.
Goes well at eleven, four, five, six and seven.
Much too late for breakfast...,
Who the hell says?
Eat when I feel, you know how it is.
(C) LIVVI

Watching t.v.
I start to cry.
My beautiful dog looks deep into my eyes.
She seems to be sensing my feelings.
Catching my emotions.
As if, she read my mind.
Never seen her move so fast.
I guess her love is meant to last.
She cured my tears with a snuggle.
Livvi x

He stood in the darkness of the graveyard,waiting for his  time to come.
The cold night winds pierced his fragile skin burning as fire, such searing pain.
Time crept by so slowly.
He huddled his soul into his carpet bag, trying to keep life's warmth retained!
A travel bag packed with memorabilia from days well spent, was all that remained!
Daylight dawned.
Cheery bird song applauded his  over night efforts, now he was descending!
He was not gloomy, relief was upon him!
Morning had come at last!
Hid behind the stones ,the past laid markers.
He looked around, surveying the situation!
The widow woman, tears streaming stood beside the vacant hole.
She wandered vacantly into to the house of those holy, supported by those who cared !
Held upon strong shoulders high, he peered up into the sky.
It was his turn, his time had come.
No longer wandering through God's acre,
Casket lowered, six feet or more.
A single red rose did descend upon him.
He had known all along she'd be there.
Until death delivered him.
Escaped from cruel Mother Earth's Evils!
Rest in peace my friend!

Phoned you this morning with  my most rampant of write, you liked it all right,
I wonder how, I knew you would,
Course you did, you always do,sorry to say now, it's not just me and you,
or you and I,
You moaned at me, for mailing one to you that as I cc'd to another,
You're not my lover, just my friend, not sure if as a friend I can depend, anymore,
Deep mischief discussions are what do we  to do best....!.
We were both so close today, in fact mere, only yards away,
Believed that you may seek me out, while we were so close,
You didn't, no surprise there then!
Although, admit, I did kind of hope,
Saw Stephen, another friend today , he said, "Gal you're looking glam in his way,
Through his aesthetic eyes, he sees beauty so honest, loyal and true,
He doesn't look for hot and ***** in a chick, because, he's gay!
He's really sweet, lovely too,
He's a male nurse works on ICU!

Livvi Kent 2013

My pen,
She sleeps tonight.
Wrapped in softest safety blanket.
Cannot risk breaking my one last baby.
My one sweet place of sanctuary.

For she is angry.
Very angry.
Incensed..No scent.
Except maybe burning flesh singed and charred.
No sense nor sensibility.

My pen she burns ire.
Irate on mission.
Declaration of dignity.
She stalks not.
Her caring nature of kindness is all there was.
Genuine never lost.

She walks away with head held high.
He cannot look her in the eye.
States readily he wants to die.
Regularly a clockwork orange.
Upon a crazy trip.

Find your own sanctuary.
Make it far away from me.
He got a cob on.
Arrogant swan hisses.
The lady her pen will not decease.
She will write on.





By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Duchesse bought into the room upon a silver platter.
Cried a tiny tear.
The diners cried,
Oh my, what's the matter dear.
Duchesse replied through egg streaked tears.
They've gone and mashed my family.
My sister's stuck in boiling fat.
Made her crisp and crunchy.
My brother darling, my sweet brother.
The sent to the land of France.
Where as Dauphenoise.
He will entrance.
My cousin's she's not feeling good.
Chipped as choice.
To fill the tums of ravenous children.
Me.
I Overhead a conversation.
They said I was a tuba.
Thought I was destined for a band!
Then I realised from a tuber I'd be growing.
Not being played
I had to feed the land!

Good grief... I'm in a really stupid mood tonight! Livvi x
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

'She walks in beauty' as 'a phantom of delight,'
The one evicted from his darkest night,
Her' raven' hair draped around her shoulders,
Laying next to him in 'silken tent',
Wanted just 'a slice of wedding cake'
Her beautiful spirit captured,
Sent to early sorrows death by 'solitary reaper',
Taken on' May- day',
She was the' light of living days',
Before tragically taking her 'survivor's leave'
He left her for another,
Took another younger lover,
It was their wedding cake,
She so desired,
It was to be their wedding day,
Before her heart he did thou break,
Her life was stolen,
Tragically by own fair hand,
As her sweetheart whom she'd trusted,
Greeted' the chorus of the newly dead'
The sun rising before she flew away,
Back to night realms,
To rest in peace.

Used poetry titles from classic works to create this poem.
Lord Byron, William Wordsworth, Alfred Lord Tennyson, Edgar Allan Poe, Robert Lee Frost,Robert Graves, Wordsworth,Ralph Waldron Emerson,Thomas Moore, Charles Causley, John Dunne and Edwin Muir. Thank you for reading.
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

This is a bit of a mish mash, but it was quite fun

Funny moments.
Sitting and thinking about rabbits jumping around on sunny banks.
The children chuckle as they watch them.
Shush children, you'll scare them away.
It's pure natural love watching animals at play.
The dog's getting excited.
You crouch behind her, you don't want her to scare the bunnies away.
Strangely they're oblivious to our presence.
I guess they must be used to us.
A kind of relationship dynamic.
It's as if they recognise us from yesterday.
We left them some crisp carrot tops.
Maybe that's why they trust us.
A loud voice booms out from behind us..one they're not familiar with.
"You coming home love?"
He waves his air rifle, menacingly.
Perhaps he fancies, rabbit pie!
Not on my watch, that's for sure.
Run little rabbits, run.
He's not a farmer, but he sports a gun.
They scarper back into their warren.
Post haste.
Phew!
(C) LIVVI

Falling Down Fast! (ANOTHER DARK POEM)

I'm falling apart,
I'm splitting,
Divisible into,
Two fine halves,
Not sure where I'm at,
Torn as crevasse breaches my soul,
My soul,
She's more in control than me,
Weaving chaos while she parties hard,

Fought, the strong ,
Desire to die,
Hell is here,
I won't fight,
I'll sit and cry,

Will ride the tide of tears,
Or maybe drink them dry,
My paradise is lost,

At what cost,
Self assured,
Still keep my dignity intact,
Underneath facade ,
It's just an act,

She fits,
Myoclonic,
Confused,
Flits as Pipistrel,
Through twilight night lights,
Whirling,

Turbulent witch,
Fingertips alive with pain,
Cauldron bubbles,
Filled with heart's dark art,

While piranha eats her heart,
Body stripped to the bone,
Clean to bone,
Nothing left to fear!


By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Annie Chapman, the maiden Smith,
******* daughter of a soldier born,
Parents entered joy of wedlock,
When ******* girl was still a baby.

Got married herself in 1869,
Had three children sweet,
First sweet daughter Emily,
Captured by meningitis bug,
Stole their eldest gal away,
Second child was a lad named John, born tragically disabled,
A third daughter born 1884 who ran away with the circus seeking some fun, when grown.

Marriage crumbled,
Due to sorrow,
Loss of daughter,
Destroyed all tomorrows,
Son was put into institution,
So they could not go on,
Drifted apart on a tide of drink,
Only way not to think,
Separated fell apart in 1884,

Lady 'Annie', with sorrowful heart and hair of brown,
Known as 'Dark Annie'
Maybe because she wore a frown,
She was the victim blessed with civility,
Until the drink contorted her,
Bending her mind,

Early as the daylight rose,
She had found a dark haired fellow,
Wearing deerstalker,
Maybe a friend of Holmes himself,
Although it's sadly doubted,
Probably a client, looking for her wares,

Body slain, lain on the floor,
Not far from her gate,
Throat slashed, viscera scattered around,
Coating her shoulders , with blood spattered dressings,

A neckerchief in situ,
Had he maybe provided a most unpleasant gift,
No financial donation for this poor lady,
Asphyxiation for the lady, she didn't take her daily pills,

Queer perhaps,
Her murderer knew what to do,
Maybe vile ****** man was medical in origin,
Some speculation hinted,
The ****** weapon was an autopsy knife!

This is the story of the second Jack the Ripper victim.
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Language!

The omnipotent shambles of language.
Provoked a full debate.
On one odd afternoon of T.V.
This question most odd was laid open to the floor.

So,
Is a score twenty.
Or how do we score.
All rather weird made me hunt out some more.
Queens English goes to battle with lingo of slang.
Insists interpretation of many different words.
Almost a spoken thesaurus.
Is brilliant bright and shiny,gleaming in the sun...
Or is one extremely bright, a human with ability.

Mild calm and easy going.
Perhaps tasteless...
How about misuse...waste and squander.
*******, desecration.
Mighty strange.
English.
A collection peculiarities!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Painful!

His pain kissed hers with gentleness,
Tried hard to make her better,
Pain bought sullen tears again,
She's feeling slightly better,
In their pain they dance together,
A duet in loves garden,
Her teardrops soothed by lacy handkerchief,
Held in her lovers hand,
Caught on a summer breeze,
Zephyr warmed their pain away,
While they spun upon the grass,
Her in sparkling emeralds,
In a dress of passion's hue,
Smiling in contentment,
As true love smiled down,
Spread love and flowers all around!
By ladylivvi1
A bit of a nonsense write **

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Pastel painted charming lady,
In pretty silken frock,
Great minds,
In mind's meeting space,
Words dressed in lace,
Antimony coated,
Elemental,

When I'm with you,
'I love you',
When I'm not I don't,
So much,

Leave your space without disgrace,
To write more fervently,
You and I both,
Imagination's fed!
Rations given,
Tender passions blessed,
Etched messages written,
In black on white,
By poets via pens!
Writing poet messages,
With such abundant might!

By ladylivvi1
© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Castles in sandpits.
Feet that wander.
Seaward as seawater meanders.
Buckets of plastic.
Containing fresh water.
Probably not.
Forks with spikes on Tyne side.
Professing weird knowledge.
Bending round edges.
Breaking down hedges.
Crumbling castles made of tactical fairy steps and freaky dreams.
Huge construction.
Rubbed together butter and flour.
Carefully, even lovingly, put into ramekins.
Everyone's named Paul or George.
When creating castles made of sand,remember always.
Pride always comes before a fall.
Ready for baking.
And the ball flattened the castles,
Squashed like malleable putty.
Sandcastle in sandpits.
Paul was a self destructive shot.
George, well now, he is not.
Just in case, both be forgot.
(c)Livvi

My crisps are potato creations.
My chips are micro, that's for sure.
Cheese and onion, ready salted, good to munch as snacks.
Offer me prawn cocktail crisps.
They make me sick, I'll give them back.
Smokey bacon, boy I'm quaking,
Almost tasting the flavour in anticipation.
From my head down to my toes.
Smokey bacon crisps, tantalise my nose.
They tell me new crisps and fries being created every week.
Cheese on toast crisps.
Well I never,
Roast dinner, sadly missing vegetables.
Holy ghost crisps.
Gone in a puff of eerie green smoke.
Think I'll stick to fries.
Can't do salt and vinegar.
The pong it makes me feel ill.
The taste is even worse.
(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)

In this land my poet lays,
Beside me now and then,
Where feelings meet,
My prince is dashing,
Moving fast, but always slow,
Crunching crashing,
Such impact,
Love collides!

Poets place their work with pride,
Feelings evicted from deep inside,
In love's perfect alliteration,
Escape to play in pastures new,
To share with many,
Or share with few,
Dragons slain in land of pain,
Again,
My poet fills my heart,
Endears me with his writes,
He is a mighty poet,
A duo of darlings,
Continually fighting to eternally write!

Kisses from a tranquil pen,
Contort with viral virulence,
Show darkness's in it's true intents,
In bright lights' revelations,
My poet,
He kisses me in person,
Now and then,
My heart and my soul intact,
For now!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Climbed a rubber ladder.
To try and reach the stars.
The luminescent painted stars.
Dropped by angels as they passed.

Down she went falling fast.
A bungee jump to hit the deck.
Bottom of the crevasse.

Whoa.
Up the dainty fairy flew.
Wings made of glass.
Broke down.
Fractured grains of sand.

Along came the caterpillar blowing smoke rings aromatic.
The rings of warming smoke.
Lifted fairy to find the ladder.
****** on his smoke..she was well and truly bladdered.
Her head, well it began to spin.

Started seeing crazy stuff.
The colours bright, the sounds distorted.
Must have been what she last snorted.
Charlie was her best friend.
Once upon a time.
Escaped from a fantasy.
Her head released.
Was flying free.
Within the realms of LSD!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

That wicked naughty little girl.
She's bouncing on the bed.
Her footwear's rather sticky.
As it is a lava bed.
Her boots are breached by temperature.
Pooh,sulphuric smelly feet.
Cook yourself roast chicken.
A really stinky treat.
(C) Livvi

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

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)

She said give not up on love.
For sweet her love.
It kissed him in a way that no-one ever could.
Love is power.
Not heart corrupting.
Lost feelings erupting.
Be not afraid,
My  dark deep distant warring soul.

Love protects and lifts the scared and sacred ones.
Human form ecstatic.
If the form is right.
Drifting on a lonely river.
Doesn't keep you warm at night.

Enough to raise a smile.

Raises odds.
For more just a hint of happiness.
There is more to life than living wholly alone.
Hold my heart in your hands.
Give it a massage with tenderness.
Walk not down the lonely road.

A duet of poetic diversity.
Far apart, still in distance.
For as long as need decrees.
Close in  both heart and mind.
Take another look.
See what you can find.
Not all humans are monkeys.
One or two are kind!

(C)Olivia 17/11/2013.

Speech

Chaos forced out, while stupidity smiles loudly,
Shouting in brittle delight,
Fractious unbroken anxiety smacks,
Abrupt is what wishes once desired,
Dialect of dreams devotion,
In hazy frosted sponges dusted in icing sugar trims,
Brimming Sweetness blowing flustered in blasts of summer,
Audacious in feral vile violence,
While the song remains the same!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Lust! (One asterisked bad swear word)!

Lash me not with your tongue.
Tie me up in velvet ribbons.
Soft edged with shiny silk.
Handcuffs you use to keep me trapped.
Be sure you do not lose the key.
A spot of ****** filthiness between only you and me.

Halt me with your kisses
A proper way to spend some time.
Mention not the loving issues.
Bursting out the front.
Taking your loving issue and stuff it up my c**t.
Don't forget the tissues.

As an afterthought.
Use them to dry your sullen tears.
To wipe your eyes, as I am leaving.
After all these years.

Whip cracked undeniably.
Around my bottom cheeks.
While my fist it bled your lips.
Between my nipping teeth.
I bit.
As I made you bleed.
Your request not mine.
Hell boy.
Whatever, your perverse requests.
You are still mighty fine!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Clothes held close as menfolk left.
Clutched close to wifely bodies.
The scent of that last embrace.
She smells his left behind clothes again.
Nobody else knows his smell.
It tickled her nose.
Memories of last moments of closeness.
This moment maybe their last dance.
Uniforms of formality in such organised organisations.
Firm protection of noble nations.
Action stations, yet again.
And the death bell tolled.
And the trains rolled into the station.
Waiting to clamber on to the war bound train.
Walking away.
Heads held high.
Stiff upper lip.
After kisses goodbye.

Which of the bedfellows will survive?
It's a long drawn out slog.
This war is a dog.
Big.
Black.
Vicious.
Still alive?
(c) Livvi

This isn't real ,
It can't be,
A vagrant spirit,
Creeping with echoes,
Shadowed,

Asphyxiation
Strangulated as hernia,
Causes pain,
Risking death,
Shallow ground,

Drip drop,
Walls are melting,
Smells dank,
Hanging in the atmosphere,
Encasing frightened ears,

Being aware,
For whilst asleep,
Can you weep,
Hate the dark,
He keeps me sleeping,

Dawn shatters night's illusion,
Tension released after sleep,
In joy you awake,
Night creature released,
Cobwebs washed away!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

I am a robot to the other's.
Protective of all human kind.
I am a guardian of many.
Take me as you shall find.
I will serve and respect you, as you are the wearer of human skin.
The bearer of human sin.
As Robot; I know not of sin.
I am emotionless, inanimate made of tin, or similar non corrosive metal.
Human is conditioning,into a master robot .
Crafting, grafting, making sense.
Manufactured of filaments and circuit boards.
As Robot,I may not harm a hair on human head, by way of lacking action.
Robot, I must obey what humans say, avoiding harming human fellows.
You may scrap your fellow robots, put them in the melting ***.
Causing harm to ****-sapiens is one thing I may not.
Above all, I as robot must protect myself for future stealth type operations.
But I can't harm humans.
Useful as a fighter I am not, for I cannot be a warrior it goes against my laws, all three.
As I can do no harm, totally against my doctrine.
A domestic engineering robot is the only thing I am.
(c)Livvi

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

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

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

The Dragon

Bowels of earth emitting sulphurs' acrid stench,
This denizen of darkness dank,
Dragon stood with baited breath,
Unfurling vein engorged wings,
While peeking out for little things,
As tasty titbit,
He could nibble,

Then a maiden strolling by caught this wicked dragons eye,
Lost his hunger for his lunch,
Fancied woman for his munch,
This dragon was a little *****,
Didn't fancy woman mornay,

He fancied love this tragic dragon,
Scuffled over smiling sweetly,
As only dragon can,
She was frightened totally and called out to her man,
Her man he came to rescue her from this scary dragon chap,
What a huge mishap,
His lady ran, she rushed away,
While man became the dragon's lunch!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
A little humour for you!

See that zombie stood over there.
Caked in fresh blood.
It's under his hair.
Found a fella with a hole in his head.

Sad zombie fella.
Found a slice of mouldy old bread.
Used it as a soldier.
Dipped in his head.

No fun.
Newly made zombie.
He's always hungry,
Now he's dead.

Peeps at Mr Majestical's testicles.
Fancied chewing them.
Loved the juice.
Succulent as strawberries.
Raspberry sauce.
Blood of course.

Derwent fancied a bit of breast.
Loving mother told him.
Breast is always best.

Julie's just a crazy chick.
Fancied a nibble on the dead guy's ****.
Yummy, yummy.
Really sick.
Or should I say she ****** it.
As if it were a straw.
Special days of living.
Always was a *****.

The kid in the corner is popping out eyes.
Never really worked out why.
Perhaps he was thirsty.

Eleanor.

She fancied a nibble on the bladder and kidney.
Of a once fine chap.
Whose first name was Sidney.
***** tasted of peach lemonade.
Eleanor the dead chick.
Her day was made.
Got really drunk.

That Zombie's really ******.

Mum's over there.
One of them?
Or still my mum?
You know what?
I really don't care.
For the first time in my life.
I feel really scared.

Hell.
I digress.
They're chasing me now
I'm making a mess.
Run out of puff and all that stuff,

They're trying to eat me.
That's quite enough.
I'm feeling quite numb.
The dead ******* won.
Stripped all the tissue clean off my ***.

Chewed though a bit of a nerve.
Partially damaged.
You feeling the image?
Bled me near dry.
He did.
*******.
Made me cry.
For a second or two.

Lucky me.
One ate my eye.
So glad.
I won't see myself die.
With a skeletal hand.
I'm waving goodbye.
(c)Livvi