Surreal was the tone of the sky on Christmas night.
Navy and cloudless.
And the rain fell.
Lightly, drops of daggered ice.
Falling sharply.
Wet hair.
Not heavy.
Fresh as freedom came.
Spirits danced on air this Christmas night.
All was silent.
No cars.
No twenty four hour take aways.
The animals were hushed.
So silent.
And sleep came to me so easily,
Today I applaud Monday morning.
With it's morning glow and unaffected sky.
For today,
I live and breathe.
So quietly.
(c)LIVV

When Neil Diamond wrote Hot August Night.
My god that chap was right.
In my bed I almost drown.
Love the weather.
Must cool down.
Swamped by sweats of night time kind.
Think I'm going outta my mind.
Come November being a Brit
When the weather cools down,
I'll whine about it.
I'll moan and groan like a sorrow filled mare.
When raindrops and icicles enter my hair.
Then I'll beg for summer sun.
One day when the rains fall I'll beg for summer sun.
Typical English chick.
(c)LIVVI

Not every poet is a Wordsworth,Keats or Plath ,
a Dickinson perhaps,
Poetic creativity,
an impropriety of wild mind,
and sharpened wit.
It's a description of words,
spilled from contorted buckets.

Some words tall,
they are as giraffes,
Marked with blotchy patches.
Others small, as wistful shrews.
That's the curse of open verse.
Words for the moment, captured in ink,
makes them stop and maybe think.
Sharp as a knife blades
often spoken,
dark as night.
Makes her nothing less of a poet.
An influence all of her own.

Some's words are vacant nothingness.
The lady's just a snooty ****,
she strikes a fearsome pen.
She strikes a light as she ignites,
passion in the hearts of men.
(C) LIVVI

Run and hide from the summers eve thrill, while the sun's going down, Mrs Midge has her fill.
She gets in your hair as she buzzes in air, waiting to sup up your blood.
Um.
She leaves a strokes of hormone an invite to all her fuzzing friends,
Hey she screams come see me, these guys make for yummy feeds.
****** midges...****** women, they leave their men at home!
(C) Livvi

Fairy Tales!

Force open the pages of aged books.
Take care they don't tear.
Read tales for children.
Tales of ladies,
With very long hair.
Stories of fairies .
If enter you dare.

The pages are yellow.
Stained by age and tobacco.
Fragile they are.
Must handle with care.
Smell the mustiness enter the air.
Pages feel dry and crusty to touch.
While the listener is agile.
Memories of sitting on Grand-papa's knee.
Listens to stories not read to me.

Face of the child.
Angelic so pure.
Trapped inside.
Fairy stories lure.
Safe and secure
No big bad wolves here.
She's safe indoors.

All the bad wolves live outside the doors.
The fairy princesses wear satin dresses.
Wings opened to soak up the sun.
Bad witches discarded.
As yesterday's news.
Frogs become princes.
The men of her dreams.
Fantasy fairy tales only in dreams.

By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

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)

Bladdered!

Full to bursting point.
Quick release before explosion.
Filled up nearly brimming over.
Morning light smacks the eyes.
Dash to empty.
So despise.

Once upon a time.
Not so long ago.
Barely had to hit the loo.
Morning noon or night.
Now with age increasing.
Wake at night so enraged.
To find the door locked.
Shouts engaged.
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Into the night a phantom visits.
A blinding panic of fear built upon fear.
Shook in her shoes, the ones that were missing.
Tries to run there's nowhere to run.
In a night of sweats so fueled by panic.
Stumble through darkest cloak.
Wind blows in her face of beauty.
Scratching her eyes.
Giving only blindness.
Word blindness.
So dark.

Terrorized by the power of one so strong.
Compelled to forget as she wakes.
The way they left her shaken.
Forsaken.
The reminder of the spiteful night.
Disturbed sleep of dreams emblazoned.
Amazingly, dreams scarily so profound.
Thrown out of the window as her pen finds it's voice.
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

The curse of a million worldwide women .
Came back and bit bit me on the ****.
Again it made me bleed.
Thought I'd moved on past.
My not so missed fertility.

Went to work, all good as gold.
My aged life it did unfold.
Was so upset.
With much regret.
I thought I'd faced the change.
So strange.

Thought the thing that kept me fertile.
Had run away for a long while.
It's back with a vengeance.
My ****** stupid body.
Just in time,
A Christmas gift.
Sorely so not wanted.
I guess a lesson sorely learnt.
Should not take my body for granted!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

He lived at the base of a bottle.
He broke it.
Spilled contents.
Became insane.
Craving.
Baying like a wild wolf.
Wolves are nice.
He wasn't.
There have been tales of lupines kind looking after human cubs.
Displaced and alone.
He wasn't one.
He was a werewolf.
Baying for blood or beer.
The latter more evocative of the demonic drinker.
Left behind.
Just me, thinker.
Then I recalled.
Remembering him.
Hollering for loudly for yet another drink.
Made me think!
(c)Livvi

Drop a penny in the wishing well.
Watch the ripples emanate.
If wishes were kisses I have but a few.
Those that I have.
Will share only with you!

The ripples will magnify.
In our minds eye.
Pour oil on water.
Somewhat troubled.
Watch colours on the shining surface emulsify.
Play silly boy and girlish games.
Episodic I-Spy.

Count the pennies in our ***.
To see how much we haven't got.
Money doesn't matter much.
Missing feeling is true cost.

Ride the rainbow.
Until she vacates.
Vanishes back from spectrum in grace.
At her base is a crock full of gold.
Hidden from lovers.
Two lovers hunting, afore they get old.
She vanishes rapidly.
Back into the mist.






By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Rolling lips.
Flashing eyes.
Blazing red.
Petrified.

Stiletto heels.
Stake in hand.
The huntress waits inside.
Shadow blanket.
Cool and damp.

Lover rigid.
Tranquilised.
Palm pressed hard.
Upon forehead.
Body sustenance all gone.
Dead.

Huntress's stake.
Life did take.
She must.
Vampire.
Undead.
Pile of dust.

Goodbye my love.
(c)LIVVI

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

The ship of the air, now a ship of the sea.
May the souls of the dead, fly tragically free.
The mystery is solved, after worldwide stress.
May the pilot , passengers and crew be at rest.
Let all the relations receive peace to grieve.
May the lord smile on them and let them breathe.
While their families, peacefully sleep now they have their answers.
Hope and pray the victims knew nothing as their plane tragically, became a drowning boat.
The only thing these poor souls knew, was sent by text, how very cruel!
(c) Livvi

She has beautiful eyes.
She sat on the bus.
She has beautiful eyes.
A husband in tow.
A child with beautiful eyes.
It's in her genes.
She's wearing her jeans.
Her hair in baubles and bands
Until her age and religion demands.
Then under her Burka, all you'll be able see are her beautiful eyes.
Religious clothes of perfect choice.
Islamic voice.
(c) Livvi

See the sky,
it's burning green,
Recanting the tale of the eyesore,
It's invading the skyline.
A newly created tower of Babel,
where none can speak our mother tongue.
Some won't listen anyway.
The authorities,
those powers that be,
painted my skyline,
with a blaze of green,
and somewhat sickly yellow.

Jeopardized my locality,
Played. a dodgy game of risk.
Community spirit evaporates,
as big fish businesses,
digest all the little fish,
Within in the happy village,
a.k.a metropolis.

It's happening everywhere you see.
Through powdered eyes scratched,
Itchy and dry,
by construction,
big builders,
the pus,
the toxic grip.
The scourge on the skyline,

Stolen my space,
obliterating garden view.
If the choice were mine,
I'd dress the
sky with decadence,
with stars,
not stripes of colour ,
Give the council options,
Give them half a chance,
they'll build upon our forest hills.
(C) Livvi

She who must be loved.
The meaning of her name.
The lady Amanda.
A loyal friend to many.
An honest friend to me.
The sweet gypsy lady prepares her sweet pegs.
Putting their clothes on and dressing their legs.
Some with hats and pretty dresses.
Unless they're bald  they have woolen tresses.
Had the pleasure of meeting her mum at work.
Where Amanda, my sweet friend introduced  me as Olivia the poet.
Requested that a poem for her I did prepare.
Of course I did, because I care!
(C) Livvi

Fallen Angel Part 5 !

Devil real angry.
Gathered collection of earth's evil leaders.
Descended dragged them home screaming.
Back into realms of hell they fell.
His dominion.
He loves it well.

Grabbed a million executed witches.
Once burned strapped onto their stakes.
The devil a gambling man.
Hedged his bets.
With these ladies.
Chaos on earth could he make.
Him.
Witches.
Evil leaders.

Creation of earthquakes.
A fusion of cracks through earth did break.
As champagne fizz.
Fires burn effervescent.
Bubbled over.
Such vile evil stench.

Earth mantle dressed in disarray.
Mother Earth total disorder.
Fires of hell released.
Avenged the earth.
Witches carried from hell on lava flow.
Spat evil curses over many lands.

Men on earth screamed out in prayer.
Immortal incantations beat.
Clouds break.
Angelic hosts.
Cover lands with holy ghost.
With love and sensibility.
Evil was once more beat.
Once more goodness triumphed.
Man once again set free!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

On the eleventh day of the eleventh month at the eleventh hour.
They shall be remembered.
Poor souls lost in dark days past.
War is not over.
Continuum of tragic loss where megalomania rules.
With iron rod.
Dignitaries undignified.
Locked safe in their protective realms.

Their dens are dark.
Their minds are dank.
Images of tragic loss.
Broadcast daily.
From wars past.
Not only one and two.
Wars lost.
Lives lost.
Vietnam America's loss.
Too may brave souls.
Crucified for useless cause.

Trodden underfoot by powers that be.
Whose actions affect nations.
Not just you and me.
Ramifications.
Unjustified terrorist attacks.
Many die.
From Nine Eleven to Kenya.
Too many lives lost.
Innocent children.
As spent matches snuffed before they flourish.
What in the world is going on!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

She screamed at him,
Stop it, stop it right now,
How many times must I tell you,
And he stopped,
Looked up at her and smiled,
With  the innocence of adolescence,
He looked up, wide eyed his index finger perched on his lip,
"Sorry mum,"  said he,
Mummy dashed off to the kitchen,
Thought maybe was time for tea,
Instead, she trotted back in,
Complete, with garden shears,
Snip, snip, chop, chop, off his fingers they did drop,
A pile of fingers left on the floor,
How many times did she tell him before,
Don't bite  your nails!
You should have seen his dripping fingers, hacked off at their sockets.
(C) Livvi

There are ants in my parlour,
they're going on a sugar rush,
all those ****** footsteps.
I see them crawling through my jelly jar,
they're seeming drunk my friends,
pickled ants,
now that's a sight to see,
there maybe thousands of them,
I just cannot tell,
perhaps I'll put the jam jar out,
then maybe they'll be free.
maybe I'll be too,
makes me itch just watching them.
(C) Livvi

Seeking fortune in the bottom of my tea cup.
From the top lip I sip.
Swillling  my brew.
Debating spitting out,
Ooh, I got confused,
Maybe I thought I was wine tasting,
They say Jesus turned water in to wine.
I had tea, so he didn't touch mine.
There were no tea leaves at the base of my cup.
Do you know why that could possibly be?
I drink coffee, rarely tea.
The error of judgement was made me.
Not a tea leaf in sight.
(C)LIVVI

The wind lifts the vibrant orange kite.
The flyer wraps its holding wire around her fingers.
A lifting gust.
Such gusto.
The lady flies.
Sky high on Saturday.
Up up and away.
Kite at play.
Her feet dangle at a strange angle.
Pretty angel offered her a hand.
The kite at last set free.
(c)Livvi

I once wished to lay here forever.
Desired life's fire.
Tripping to live.
Living to trip.
To inhale your memory.
A fix of you.
I felt you near.
I smelled your scented envelope.
Envelopes full of imagery.
Senses enhanced.
Enriched.
To bathe before your seeking eyes.
Your images locked within my mind.
Twisted distortions.
Contortions.
You got so very boring.
Now I want to sleep.
(C) LIVVI

In a blaze of purple passion.
Was dashed onto the stormy shore.
Today.
I have to work.
Such joy.
My lifetimes safe.
Remaining coy.
For revisit life I shall indeed.
Not lichen on a pavement.
Not to be walked on.
Never squashed underfoot.

And the crack heads were standing around on the corner.
Eyes hanging on stalks.
As eagles they watch.
The girls walk by with their handbags on arms.
Flashing their smiles and immense lucky charms.
And they chase her down the road, like god awful toads.
Who thinks that they're hot,
I assure you they're not.

Their faces laden with swollen oozing pores.
Result of a good many scores.

One's nose kept on streaming, his throat's really sore,
His head, always believing his feet miss the floor.

As he vomits in the corner, he expects her to care.
She looks straight through him as if he's not there.
Not a care did she give,
All she muttered was "***** you"!
(C)LIVVI

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)

Two of a kind we are,
It is not admitted tho, again,
As if we tumbled backwards,
Back to where we were,
In a complexity of character,
As if it never fitted,
Angels support us as we drift down life's balmy river,
Not balmy, barmy more like,
A pair of lost souls,
Floating on our life support,
Saved by poetry, in whose net we're caught,
A dream became a nightmare....unable to escape,
Only way out poetry, for she saved us both,
The only thing worth having,
The only thing that's left,
She is awesome she is the main event,
Keeps us safe from being wrapped up in a spider's web,
Of gossamer, constructed of red tape,
Finances **** and pillage us.......
With all these financial burdens we're bereft!

By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Vicious words are weapons designed to compel the weakest sweetest hearts,
To destroy with tips of honed steel,
Sharp as a wicked raw tongue,
To bite deep into the hardest bone,
To **** the zest from gentle hearts,
Corrupting evil minds with sharpness,
Vicious are the non thought out utterances,
Soul shredding,
Destroying all but the hardest hearts,
Glass hearts shatter, nylon hearts melt, sand hearts crumble,
Pure hearts die too soon!

By ladylivvi1
© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Forgiven at last perhaps.
The morning after the night before.
Tried to even up the score.
Cold.
Could the chill be breached?

Of course it could.
Mornings are for making up.

Flashing passion.
Together quiver.
Bodies snuggle tight evicting anger's raging shiver.
Close in body held well.
Cheek touched softly.
In scarlet passion.
Pair of hearts no longer bled.
The sucker's love is not dead.

Bodies roll and writhe as anger stripped.
Overtaken in moments of melting moulding together.
In ecstatic moments.
Leading to heavens' afterglow.
As love cried tears of pure joy.
Atonement for last nights passed storm.

Follow on from Morning Glory 17/11/2013.
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Love lay dormant.
Neath near extinct volcano.
Fire from earths bowels.
Curtsying, the delicate female form, confesses to the sorrow of a million sins.
Archangels dance in celebration in collaboration, at dinner for the dragon given in  the form of fallen gift.
Dragon kind screams at hearing lady wail,  the  whirling maiden impaled hung upon the spikes of a hundred shards of disrespect.
She was to be fodder for the dragon.
The dragon, he did so take pity.
The dragon lived in fantasy land.
His title was Sir Walter Mitty.
(c) Livvi

Raven

Raucous cackle of raven.
Outside fast food joint.
Scavenging for scraps.
Discarded from those already been.
Sat on the wall.
Surveying the locale.
Gleaming oily black feathers.
Shining in the morning sun.
Sits there like some aged crone.
Stoic.
Not moving as a soul walks by.
Not even a twinkle in his dark eye.
Unnerved not by traffic's pass.
The bus drives past.
He sits and waits.
And waits some more.
For discarded scraps of those before.
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Aftermath!

Wind blew away.
Tumbled trees.
Across the road were slain.
Trees deceased.
One or few.
Caught by the branches.
Felled.
Chaos in diversion's drench.
Liken to flowers on tender stems.

Trains deceased for hour of rush.
As leaves and rainfall both did gush.
Muddles of puddles.
Leonine wind.
Did the holy roar.
Sent from heaven or forced from hell.

Today the weather she presents no passion.
Slight chill in her heart.
Sun in her eye.
Storm forced out.
Fear did die.
Silent clouds drift through blue skies.
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

A tree cast out it's precious cargo.
Breeze blew through the springtime trees.
If I could have anchored you tight upon the trees.
Your nest it would be still be there in situation'.
Youthful squeaks, awaiting beaks.
I heard their distress calls.
Unable to act, it's a fact.
If I were to touch you, they will by wanton abandonment destroy.
(C) LIVVI

Glass of ***** windows hides a multitude of sin.
Ain't no way you're looking in.
Never gonna let you see.
Secrets hide behind them panes.
Black eyed girls and blue eyed boys.
Can't see through, just hear the noise.
The clock face atop the tower is seen to show thirteen.
Listen very closely, you can hear the children scream.
Foreboding walls of council caverns.
Manor houses.
***** parents hang in taverns.
Or slug from bottles without tops.
Cider or *****,
Who knows what.
It's a closely guarded secret.
Behind those filthy pains.
Never ever, hell on earth.
Will I, the secret poet,
Escaping from the closet.
Ever go there again.
For I am not a drinker.
Never ever was, because!
Instead, I am a thinker.
(c)LIVVI

I think I want to be in love again.
Once again to wear latex free gloves.
And my reason is.
Bearing in mind, that I'm not in the least bit *****.
i'm bored,sitting around daily writing pails of poetry,
I won't say buckets,
it's a word that everyone uses,
thought I abuse the English lingo,
a touch,
However I don't need to wear latex free gloves to touch upon the English language.
As somewhere between life and death,
I'm dying of boredom that it is,
I live my life in clinical gloves,
I'm pining for them,
I miss my job,
My head's done in,
I'm getting so bored,
it's coating my skin.
Bring on next week when I start my job...
hopefully.
(C) Livvi

I'm fighting the breeze as it tousles' my hair.
My fingers are rapiers, they're cutting the cold
The wind carries lances and they're fighting back.
The glowing sun is icy.
Brightens up the morning sky.
Still so cold, I am ready to cry.
Inhaling the cold and my lungs feel like cracking.
Deceit fills the sun loaded skies.
The smart bite of frostbite, still waters my eyes.
Flowers, fancy flowers.
Annually sparkle the beds.
They're no longer sleeping.
Springtime's weak sunshine, gives them their life.
Naughty husband pinches a few to give to his wife.
The children know mother's day is on the way.
I remember stealing daffodils from the roadway outside my house.
To give to my mother when I was a mouse.
Could never steal flowers now.
It's a criminal offense.
They smile so very beautifully.
Behind a gilded fence.
(c) Livvi

Dreams Whisper!

In the silence of a whisper.
Under bated breath.
Hiding in the undergrowth.
On golden autumn days.
Muttering sentiments in virtual silence.
In the night-time where dreams are rich.
In a penance for pennies.
Where we all whisper in static print.
Written across pages in midst of secret chat.
Eventual whispers.
A main event.
Maybe result of expectation.
All it needs a simple message.
Almost a mental massage.
Relieves the daily stress!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

The aged beast.
The haggard crone.
Bony fingers.
Crooked nose.
Chewing bones of children pure.
Evil person that's for sure.
She stands and stirs her cauldron.
Vile smelling.
Slings in a dead rat or two.
A newt, who looked cute.
Grinned as she chucked him in.
Black cat crawled around her legs.
Cracked in a dozen rotten eggs.
Goodness knows what she is brewing.
Smells terrible.
Door flies open.
Almost of its hinges.
The man in the black pointed hat strolled in.
Had a bad day, he scowls as he whinges.
Hangs his nose above the cooking ***.
Smells great darling.
What have we got?
(c)LIVVI

Resting Friendship!

Silver armour,
Please protect the heart that can not die.
Angel wings.
Cosseted the lady fair,
Beautiful mind, already died.
Coronet of filigree.
Rests upon sweet ladies hair.

She lays in rest.
Always best.
The lady cared.
She dared to care.

Lady destroyed.
Oh lady sweet.
Rest in peace.
Sleep deeply.
Til sunshine dies in rain.

Glass casket.
Pray smash it not.
Lacking air protects her lips.
No ageing.
Cold skin.
Encased in scarlet velvet.

Please keep her heart safe within.
Protect her from evil.
Save her from mortal sin.
Because you can.
For you are not a mortal man.

When after the war,
Together they died.
Together the fallen.
The battered and torn.
Fallen heroes warred with scorn.
Let the scorn be gone.
Enemies no longer sworn!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

The gift of the mother,
the gift for the newborn life.
Protection,
immunity,
bonding,
building,
growth,
attachment­,
discrete.

Disgusting,
vile,
threatening,
how could she?
how could she sit there,
sit there with her breast exposed?

Are you hungry?
Would you create a drama?
would you make a fuss
if you were hungry,
maybe you'd be quieter than the hungry babe in arms,
because you understand,
the principle of feeding on demand.

You moan about the screeching,
you're preaching and groaning,
that wailing's assaulting your ears,
the infant that's screaming producing no tears,
The child has such hunger pangs,
and still you cuss and make a fuss.
Mum's breast's discrete,
her baby's sweet,
all he wants to do is eat!
(C) LIvvi

Take me away from the cold and the rain.
Mario, cried through his rigid smile.
Set in place by annual ice and snow.
His joints they ached, he got so stiff.
Age had caught him in the end.
Stuck in the garden, without any friends.
He sat in the garden shed.
Thinking hard of days gone by, when as a dancer he could fly.
Made all the ladies giggle as he wiggled.
Never could do that again he smiled deep in his wooden heart.
In the garden outside the  shed he heard a voice familiar.
"Lucy, lets go take a look, see if we can seek him out, help him dance again".
For grandma, knew that hiding, dumped in the garden shed, in a damp dusty box lived an aged marionette.
Mario smiled again on hearing those words.
My how he loved to dance!
(C) Livvi

Suddenly your eyes awake.
Every day a chance you take.
Tomorrow may never come.
The end of a life with the failing sun.

The echo of the ringing phone echoes, preaches tales of the unknown.
Outside the thunder cries, it's telling lies.
You wished it was.
And your missing hair, highlights your features.
Blatantly beautiful.
Your eyes shine brightly.
Nightly.

Despite your cancer, the evilest of creatures.
You still smile,  your perfection beaming.
The cancer inside is dying to spread.
You will win for as long as you can.
One day you won't awake,
The lord of love your soul shall take.
As he shall catch us all.
(C) LIVVI

DINNER, inspired by Yui.
It's time for dinner.
What shall we have?
Brothers and sisters, the fatted calf?
Served with lettuce and bread.
Tomatoes and fries.
Why are we eating the dead?
It may not be a fellow being persay.
Is a fellow creature nonetheless.
As an issue of conscience.
I find myself bitten hard.
Very hard.
Internal debate.
External deliberation.
I rarely eat meat myself.
Sorry to say, I love the smell.
Love the taste more.
Could never work in an abattoir.
My conscience would be ripped to shreds.
Poor creatures sadly rendered dead.
My heart it bleeds each time I think.
Killing to eat is barbaric.
This poem is written in the best possible taste.
Sadly, so is the meat.
(c)Livvi MMXV

Shiny rooftops struck my eyes.
Ice chewed on my fingertips.
The wind his name was Chilly *****.
My toes aren't coming out to play.
They're hiding under my snuggly cover.
I'm not bitter.
It is a bit.
A spritzer of icicles just where they fit.
This old soul is rather cold and she really doesn't like it much.
Take hold of my hand, unfurl the coming blossoms of forthcoming spring.
I heard a cuckoo call two weeks or so ago.
I guess he got it wrong.
(c) Livvi