It's six o clock in the morning.
My blessed day off.
As if the hands of time shook me awake themselves.
Almost a phantom.
It, Time  enters my living realm and catches me from slumber deep.
Drives me crazy almost an insult.
Sunday kiss..
Never need to wake up so early.
Body clock of time.
Always screams " you do".
(C) Livvi Kent 20/10/2013

A minute vibrating piece of jelly quivers upon the dashing rocks.
Claret tints, strands and sinews.
Doesn't like the sunshine.
It dries it and fries it.
No nerve stimulation.
Nearly dead.
Neatly lacking lustre.
The heart of the lover, once all at sea.
You smile.
Thinking perhaps, it's a strange jellyfish.
You look closer.
Interpretation's not your strong point.
You never knew how she felt.
Alas, tis not,
Her heart left on the unsure line.
(c)LIVVI

Darkness creeping in.
Weighing heavy, leaden on my eyes.
My muscles ache intolerably.
Need for sleep all keen.
Hazy mist descends my eyes.
I drift, I slip,
Through hazy mirrored ***** window eyes, I try to peep.
Is this a dream?
Not yet asleep, I think,
Mind trips.
Light's not fantastic,
Silhouetted soul, in shadows fixed,
Male, all male in build.
Moves to my bed.
I freeze.
For I cannot scream.
My hands are bound with strings of shadow,  
I cannot break free.

A silent scream I make.
My face he strokes, with cobweb fingers, made of lace.
He strokes and soothes, the chill I feel.
His icy fingers scratch my skin, my beauty full destroyed!
I feel the chill inside.
On my bed edge he sits.
Puts his hand under my cover.
He climbs inside, he's soon astride.
Riding like chill wind, hell on fire.
Icy demon.
This night I recover, demon child conceived.
Demon was not.
Hell no, was the child of a long dead lover!
The child was born full fair of face.
With gentle grace and a glint in her eye.
No-one will know how and why her mode of conception occurred ,
Hell, I thought it was a dream!
(C) LIVVI X

She's as beautiful as the morning clouds that kiss the ground, the last night star that is captured by the mists that rise in early summer,building extraordinary heat.
She is the beautiful princess who stole away your heart.
She sent you a smile, a wish and a kiss.
She is the stole you wrap around your shoulders, she stole your heart and then became yours.
She is fluffy as a kitten, who wears mittens , she hurts you not when she holds you close.
She's delicate as a bone china vase, filled with gladioli blooms and erratic ferns.
Then like a carpet of bluebells she's shining...brightening your world.
Good morning,the world is awakening!
(c)LIVVI

I am a novel waiting for writing.
I am shiny, as a Christmas bauble,
So sparkly,
I am waiting to be displayed,
I am a dumb mute,
I am waiting to speak,
I am never quiet
I am an appeal waiting to be made,
I am the contents of a treasure chest,
The stifled lid lifts slowly,
so slowly,
Awaiting the coming changes,
self made,
a manipulation of myself,
the stagnant waters,
well,
they are running free now,
aerated and breathing,
Clear and fresh.
As the rickety rackety wheel turns,
I can feel the classic turning over.
Coffee tainted pages in my hapless history,
now it's all about me,me,me!
(C) Livvi

The lady smiled.
Teeth of ivory perfection.
Cheeks red as summer roses.
Hair flax like, thick and rippling,
Eyes like sapphires.
Burning sapphires.
She knows you know.
Read her thoughts by the way that she moves.
She is serene, demure.
Endearing.
It shows.
Her love shines as a lantern in the darkest night.
Offers a blanket of compassion, a cuddle without suffocation.
Love without ***.
It all gets too messy.
(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 departed mortals.
Newly deceased stand at the crossroads.
Black candles drip wax.
In a dark musty cavern.
Smell of confusion.
Blind panic fills the air.
Was their time naturally right?
Did they pass after an age of ages past?

Were they the executioner's fodder?
Rapists from far continents.
Swinging high from gibbet.
Or did they die?
As casualties.
Gift from war,appallingly.
No pleasantries.
Send casualties not not to hell.
Most manipulated by powers that be.
Suicide maybe took a vengeful grip.
As down the road to hell they slip.
To be the devils morsels.
To tease the hounds of hell.

They listen for the missing bell.
The toll calls entry to heaven.
Infants and innocents.
Always get the ayes.
No time to commit mortal sin.
Queue moves slowly onward.
Ayes to the right.
Nays to the left.
One direction seals eternal fate.
Will it be hell's fires?
Or pearly gates!

By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Duchess!

I was his last duchess.
His lady of honour.
In love I did respect his wishes.
Lost kisses shared.
As the sun rises in the mourning.
The sky cries another tear.
For the yesterdays gone and tomorrows to come.

In eyes, I undressed him.
My mind him dissected.
The image of man.
That man.
Dark lord released.
Shadow melted to the walls.
Within my abode.
Can feel the presence still.
Of he who is not here.

Because I will be his last duchess.
Though I know he doesn't care.
He was my last duke.
My last memory.
Naked pictures.
Saved upon my phone.

By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Tis wonderful to have a day off.
Like a dormouse, I find myself reluctantly sleeping.
A sunny morning turned to rain.
Wasting the day yet again.
Sat on my bed.
Picked up a book.
Took a look.
Fell asleep again.
Reading books.
Always the same.
No matter how gripping, it happens all the time.
Pick up a book.
The day disappeared.
Behind my eyes.
Sighs.
(c)LIVVI

She walked in from the hurricane,
Straight into the storm.
The witch is for burning.
A cruising night.
A warming smile.
Making hearts burn fire.
The kiss of morning dragged her out of bed.
Left by the front door.
Into the starting blizzard.
Key in lock.
Door flies open.
Straight into the tempest.
The shrew in need of taming.
(C) Livvi

Ouch she squealed,
an internal groan,
The sliver of glass knicked her finger,
Near down to the bone.
She patched it up with tissue,
to try to stop that bleed,
At that very moment,
she remembered the sailor man,
the one that she just freed.
Took a closer peep
carefully, remembering the glass, this time.
She actually thought, she saw him weep.

She thought she'd take a closer look,
His expression had changed,
He was no longer looking deranged.
As from the broken ship he'd fled,
The bottle was shattered but he wasn't dead.

The old sea dog,
in the gaberdeen mac,
Peeped in the doorway,
yes,
he came back.
Said he to the assistant ,
where is my ship?
The girl she explained with an expression that pained,
I'm so sorry Sir,
It met a grisly end.

"Once ,It was my ship said he,
When the bottle got broke,
I was set free.
I bet you never realised,
the bottled sailor boy was me."
(C) Livvi

A spring coiled tight.
Taut as a snake with fangs held tight shut.
Twisted nations, playing at war,
War,as never seen before.
Chess is a game of war.
Kings.
Queens.
Bishops.
Knights.
Everyday people.
The warmongers pawns.
Religion features with dem bishops,
Even religion and power feature in the game of chess.
Who has the power?
In the real world.
Darker and heavier.
Descending skies are falling in.
Another war none will win.
Out of man's control.
Dominance.
Destruction.
Magniloquent chess?
(c)LIVVI

Hole (Dark Humour)

Whole body placed,
a soul in hole!

Deposited to fire,
Instead,

Does it matter if you're dead?

Your feelings are lacking,

Nerve endings are still!

Inter me maybe, under the hill,

Throw my body on the tip,

Don't think that's really very hip,

Or cool,

When you're dead,
You're no-ones fool,

Maybe sling me in the sea,

In Singapore perhaps,

Haw Haw!

Got nobody,

Need no more!
By ladylivvi1
© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Stood on the corner of an avenue.
The fifth one I believe.
Watching city folk dashing by.
Buying what, I can't conceive.
Wallets are bulging.
Lucky sods.
Eyes of children open wide.
What to buy, they can't decide.
Sidewalk crammed with swarms of buzzers.
Voices echo through the streets.
Parents, children, A.n.others.
Sirens on cars.
Broads outside  bars.
Outstanding lookers.
Really just hookers.
Catching eyes.

Meanwhile in blankets and boxes, they sit in the rain.
Top of the subway.
Starts over again.
The rich scurry by.
All in a dash.
Avoiding the homeless.
A bit like a rash, I perceive.
Poor sods.
***** blankets.
Soggy sleeves.
On a hiding to nowhere.
Waiting for beating.
The ways of the world.
Happy Mondays,
Tragic Tuesdays,
Wonderful Wednesdays.
Thawing Thursdays.
And the rest of the week.
They're sleeping in gutters.
All labeled as nutters.
Have no bread and buttercups.
All dandelions'.
Shoppers all troll by.
They're just taking the ****.
Laughing at street folk.
Forgetting they're rich.
Not necessarily in wealth.
They have health and happiness.
They have love and laughter.
They have sons and daughters.
Lucky shoppers.
(c)Livvi

This woman is special,
So special,
she waltzes in ballrooms,
in the backstreets of his mind,
She's dancing in perfect time at last,
Unusual, she hears him say,
She has the limbs of octopuses,
She has not the gift of rhythm,
Arms flailed around,
as tentacles,
each tentacle holds a different key,
One for you,
One for me,
The other six in lucky dips,
Mood of the moment,
On his tentacles,
yes,
the lady,
she said tentacles,
Sometimes they stroke,
sometimes the smoke,
sometimes they're tender,
sometimes upstanding,
always a kind heart defender,
sometimes demanding,
sometimes the tentacles wander,
to spots they're not meant to go,
he turns round and smiles,
screaming "hell lady poet,
no",
The music beats,
the drums bash on,
Opened her eyes and he was gone!
(C) Livvi

LOVE GAMES
In your eyes I found love.
Your pupils like that of a love-struck teenager with a crush.
A tantalising sparkle that made my heart rush.
Exciting tachycardia.
Banging heart exploding, near bursting as if a blood filled balloon.
His feet so tired and heavy weren't sporting his black jackboots, imagined they were ballet pumps.
Walking on air.
He realised his teacher cared.
These role playing games entranced them.
Long may they dance.
(c) Livvi

A wakeful can rolls over the gutter, 'tis caught up the waking wind.
Outside the Asda, the not so superstore, where the doors are closed and the world is the same.
A painful world,  standing out in the rain.
It's a world where men in orange jumpsuits sit, they're waiting for rain.
Or pain, an escape almost knowing that freedom awaits at the makeshift pearly gates.
Drove past the docks with structures lit up, perceived as giant horses as if of troy, really huge cranes, but nothing like birds.
All desperate to see what's going on in the world as a matter of some kind of crazy urgency.
(C) Livvi

Stopped dead in her tracks.
Underfoot the staircase moves.
Onward.
Ever upwards.
A cycle in continuity.
The steps step on their own.
In a continual rhyme.
Climbing.
Never stopping til it's day is done.
Go to step.
Falter.
Unable.
Stuck in an entirety of inability.
Stairs beckon.
They beat me again.

Atop.
A need to descend.
Big approach.
Determined.
Only in my dreams.
Go to etch my foot on the stair.
Say etch.
I need to scrawl.
The way the ****** escalator takes control.
More scared than feeling fear itself.
Never will I be able to step over the bridge.
Try as I might.
Phobia so much greater than me!





By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Living, well it's just a job.
The unpaid task of population.
A pleasant job with unpleasant consequences.
We build and procreate.
Make families.
Who in turn amass and destroy.
The woods, forests and open spaces.
The deepest oceans, the beach fronts.
With litter bugs of little ones.
Flowers gone and trembling bees.
Look at their little trembling knees
What no honey!

In the city streets full of illicit money.
Plenty of money.
Big business men in pinstriped suits.
All believe they're kings of heavy hearts.
Stiletto heels sported by women of big businesses; nobodies business but there own
Flicked into switchblades in areas where cruelty rules,
Profoundly.
Where children are still sleeping amidst remaining flower beds.
The blades on the flick knives are strawberry toned.
The shape of the world honed from simple child development to world amendment.
Each day's just the same.
(c)Livvi

Questions!

Will I won't I,
Shall I shan't I,
I delve in darkened rooms,
Where all things hide,
Waiting to ****** and grab,
Scratch and fight,
As razors shred my skin,
In the distance looms a shadow,
A shroud disguises dead ends,
From where no soul returns,
Immortality is not a dream,
It's a fear,
Fear wrapped in ultra violet, from violent dreams,
Of escapades, in reckless dreams.
Dreams are always reckless,
And life is often wild!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

At the cliff edge I totter.
Clasping at daisies
Before reaching out for infinity.
Daisies, memoirs of love you forgot.

I actually believe that you have not.
Sat on the bed sadly remembering the words.
When last I sat with you.
Remember ''Daisy, Daisy'
'Give me your answer do''.

This is crazy.
When I mention feet you are dismissive.
And your back.
Sounds like a frightened excuse.
To break lose maybe due to fear.

After all he said.
'She must love me.
When she's dressed in black'
He's right of course,
She loves him true.
Poems of love under the oak.
He wrote of rings and things
Strange vows.
Not meaning physical marriage.
Just marriage of minds.

Worried she'll take his quill.
Invade his home.
She never will.
She will not steal his right to write.
Two of them have pens with might.
She writes as much as he.
Even if in different quality.

She sometimes wishes they'd never met.
She knows neither will ever forget or regret.
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

She was his temple.
He was her house.
A hole to hide in.
An honest abode.
Concealing the secrets of times long since passed.
Captured in a net of nylon where all those secrets. go to  stopped in their tracks!
These were the grey stained tear tracks exposed on open railroad tracks

Reflections!

She has a good sheen,
That's all seen,
So true,

Seen new babies coming,
Glowing with health,
While their Daddy works,
To just keep them in wealth,

Seen marriage of minds,
So full of pleasure,
Watching T.V.
Her pursuit of leisure!

The mirror on the fireplace,
Stares right back,
Looks through me,
What has she seen,
What's she accrued,
In the depths of fleeting memory!

Teenage eyes awaiting adornment,
Old dear eyes speaking with wisdom,
As they try to disguise,
Passing time as it flies,
While waiting in torment,

Such sorrow seen,
Stashed deep,
Locked in the mirrored soul,
God forbid,
That mirror should crash and burn,
Letting those images break free,
Pandora's box unleashed,
Perhaps!!

Copywrite Livvi Kent 24/02/2013.
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

As a poem made of diamonds.
Unbreakable and ancient.
All in a collection of long lost dreams.
Fading into insignificance.
Much too fast
As enduring a love .
So meant to last

As a shadow.
She wrote deep on your wall.
Engraved dense in your heart.
Scribbled over your soul.
A soul with a hole.

A whole soul sold out.
Drilled out with a pencil.
That can be used.
Never be broke.
Written in words.
But never abused.

Not for abusing.
In words just amusing.
In poems fired up with passion of magic.

As a lady in waiting, patiently.
For him to come home from his war.
As an entirety of the being .
He was before.
The vacant face in his empty space.
Her face is not empty.

As a glowing warmth.
As a blessing in disguise.
As a hole in his world.
Needing filling with care.
Without eating away at him.
His,his cute princess.
Won't get in his hair.
(C) Livvi 29/11/2013.

Take me not away on the wind and the rain.
Let only golden air infringe my skirts.
Catch me not , nor beat me with unholy wind alone.
Keep my lonely feet locked tight to the floor.
Until that wind can beat me no more.
Pray let my back be kissed only by sunshine.
Let the gale forces soon blow away the rain.

My sun,
Is it too soon to plead that once again you stand in majesty.
To fire fill my brain.
Hate the feel of sodden feet.
Can't bear the sound,
The chilling wind.
My ancient abode is cracked.
Can hear her walls a cracking.
It disturbs me as I try to think.


By ladylivvi1

© 2014 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

My ***!

Smashed a memory today.
An pixie ***.
Made for me many years ago.
A large book from my shelf did tumble.
My lovely *** got smashed to bits.
Beyond repair.

Broke my heart.
Loved and cherished it.
A patient gave it to me as a gift.
Before my training started.
Worthless financially.
Priceless a treasure.

Nostalgic memories.
Felt the tears streaking down my cheeks.
As in the bin I placed it.
Protected.
Wrapped it carefully.
Much much too late.
Never can be replaced!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

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

De'ath sat in the corner.
Toking on his pipe.
He wore a pair of carpet slippers.
Given to him by his wife.
His son came in from the store, he said "Dad you don't want to be smoking that ******* no more, it'll surely be the death of you."
De'ath said "no son of course, your right; without pipe tobacco the future is bright."
Mrs Death discarded his ifs and butts.
Okay, no butts, just bits of pipe dust.
Flakes of pipe tobacco scattered all around the room.
The mouthpiece of his pipe had been nibbled round the edges, he found it somewhat therapeutic.
Mrs De'ath said "Please dear, will you give your pipe to me, as a non-smoker you'll be able to breathe".
"Of course dear" said De'ath, as he took his last breath.
A little too late, today was his date.
His successor knocked ******* the door.
"Let me in, I'm ****** freezing".
Mrs De'ath opened the door, she told De'ath so many times before that she knew the score.
Smoking would surely be the death of him
Obviously, she knew best.
Clever Mrs De'ath.
(C) LIVVI

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

An all consuming sense of passion,
Snatched me from the gates of hell,
In a symphony of moonlit mood,
Dressed in peach tranquility,
For I love you and you love me,
Your love is awesome,
A total delight,
During the daytime enjoying the nights,
For I am your woman,
Your sweet baby joy,
Every day smiles again,
As the sun dresses me in your heart,
Where as two sweet lovers,we will run always free,
In a salient dalliance, as you and I dance,
In some kind of magical crazy romance!
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

Hermits' hid in velvet shoes.
Nervy creature.
Out of sight and far from mind.
Nibbling buttercups and daisies.
Making chains around his neck.
He would if he could.

He lives on the hill in a crooked house.
A little bit rickety.
Just like his knees.
Ankles not much better.
His teeth are extended.

Walks up the path in a grubby old sweater.
Patches of mange.
A sweater made of holes.
A path made of crumbled stones and broken rocks.
They flick in his shoes and get stuck in his socks.
Well they hurt his feet.
This rabbit's foot's  not lucky.
Doesn't like people much.
Homeward bound.
Heads to the hutch.

Has pet rabbits,
A family of.
He adores them.
Soft and fluffy.
He opens the hutch.
Piled up leaves of dandelion.
Hops in and snuggles up with his wife.

His boy came down the garden.
Put in the food and water.
Picked up my  one of my kittens,
He's stroking my daughter.
He's the only human, kind.
He doesn't like people generally.
No time for them at all.
(c)Livvi

A holiday in Rome, said she.
Deep in the land of mystery.
Around the Coliseum, feel the pain of past lives lingering in the air.
The fountain of coins, it's inviting you in.
Sunlight sprinkles sparkle, in reflection of the coins intent.
Coins thrown in, wishes spent.
Kisses of the Italian romeo, well and truly meant.
At the time.
Wish he were mine.
Tall dark and handsome please, says the winsome one.
Parties and sorties at the Campo de' Fiori.
Piazza Navona of music and dancers, poets and passion.
Ms Hepburn, I trust you enjoyed.
I must go myself I so need  to see,
the feeling, the history the  desire, the calling,
Take me please soon, to Italy.
(c) Livvi

Welcome to la la la land.
Let the music play on.
Saturday's dawned.
Friday's all gone.
Left overs of Friday in the bin.
The lust of last Friday, got under the skin.
Saturday's back, off out to play.
A night of blessed sweet jazz.
Jazz music with friendship, all that pizzazz.
(c) Livvi

It's nearly December.
We live in the land of the sweet never never.
The currency is destitution, as the poor man bleeds to death, or even maybe starve.
Wealthy governments crow over us.
The little folks.
The simpletons from their high ground perches, surveying the paupers in a so called wealthy nation.
The fat cats get fatter while the workers waste away.
They find themselves hookers and feed them with worms.
A little protein perhaps?
Nothing's getting better in the land of the never never.
(C) Livvi

Night time's come.
Where have the shadows gone.
Maybe dissolved when daylight left.

They come and go in light of day.
They love to play their crazy games.
Shadows of dudes.
Shadows of dames.
All in relation to time.

Strange creatures.
They are just shadows.
Turn off the light.
They vanish.

Turn on the light.
They're back.
Shrinking fast.
Growing quick.

Their own position changes.
In a perfect stance.
By light enhanced.
Free spirits in dark shadows.
Evicted by the switch.
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

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

In purple,
regal an empress butterfly,
lives but, for one lonely day,
Then  away she flies to die,
not a single tear shed,
in scarlet, as claret in a glass of full fragility,
passes through her precious  heart, where blood flows  always free.
in turquoise,
she glows of summer sunrise,
in yellow and luscious orange,
with streaming hair,
a mighty roar,a lioness,
in black, she's deep, but so serene.
if you dare look deep into her smiling eyes,
you will find them bright green,
she is not a jealous *****,
Make her angry then,
she'll have you spellbound,
this baby,
she's a witch!
(C) Livvi

It is the evening of my darkest day,
The day after yesterday,
Preceding tomorrow,
When reality bites with jagged teeth,
Oh my goodness is this real,
Hopefully bring no more sorrow,
A fantasy, no big deal,
Or so she thought,
A question upfront without admission,
Only omissions,
Admitted in rash moments of indiscretion slips,
In a weird weir of tumbling issues,
As tears fall bi-laterally,
Caught in fragile cobwebs mesh,
Sticky,  so they can't escape!
Poetry is his, she is mine also,
Have craved all day for a room,
In which I can deposit my pleasure,
Sharing gifts is our greatest asset,
Him, in mode of ebony,
Me, bathed with angels lights,
Normal MO,
Such a joy to behold,
At the moment roles reversed!
Livvi Kent June 2013

A churchyard of sinners, cooks on low heat.
Maybe determined to meet, the man who in spirit, the one who is meant to be kind, but accidentally crept out of his mind.
So, what do they seek?
A stroke of inspiration, wielding passion, attached to the end of a sword.
The sword being the spoken word, pronounced at high volume,but always ignored, a cry for help,  sadly unheard.
Playing games in decibels of rackets, maybe a slight squash, a candy crush.
This thing's getting tricky, it's terribly sticky.
When the mallet of croquet, bashes in nails, as coffins are sealed.
Before the funeral bell, plays its one tone soliloquy.
While waiting for ground to be fed.
As in silence, he, bids "goodbye", to  his friends.
How dare he, he who had the audacity to go and die.
By his own fair hand, so very unfair.
(C) LIVVI

I sat beside you.
Silently, as I'm so very tired.
You reached out for me.
You grabbed my hand.
****** my fingers,
Made them wet.
Babies always shove everything in their mouths.
I'm sure you know what they're like,
(C) LIVVI

Into my coffee cup, I stare deep.
In retrospective thoughts.
Seeking a sermon of belligerence, delivered by a pauper from a pulpit.
I leaned over the font in the the fair weather church.
Splashed my face with water most holy.
I hope nobody saw me.

I read from the the white board the words of the hymns.
All I could see was poetry.
In deep contemplation,
Sat in a world of coffee cups and societal dregs.
Listened to the vocalists, as they sang out of tune.
The old ladies in Sunday best frocks and curt Sunday hats.
Fellas in crispy white suits with jackets and ties on.
There's a man my age maybe.
Each week drags his lads in reluctantly.
The vicar stands at the front.
His dog collar's too tight.
His voice is so hoarse someone get him a drink.

He's reeling the same spiel each week.
Week in, week out.
Preaches of parables and gospels entirely.
I think I'm falling asleep.
God help me...I need to stay awake.
Pass me another coffee please.

The Zombie came to Corrie.
First call Ken's place for a bit of brainy tea.
Later fancied a taste of something more mature.
Emily for supper.
Rita tasted mighty classy.
Tracy fought back.
Tony was a great big lummocks.
Thought he'd join Tracy in her zombie crushingly battle.
Kylie and Eva out on the lash.
Befuddled and pickled as Zombie teeth flash.
Dev fought independently in his corner shop.
Liz and Eileen mighty meaty.
Steve shook in defence of his mother dear.
Audrey,the dresser of hair got stuck in his teeth.
Gail, put up a fight with her tongue, David copped it in the ear, mother dear.
She'd noticed her new bedroom floor erupted.
World's end outside the bistro,
Callum's hanging out,
Looking for Sarah.
She's gone.
He wanted to share her with the others.
A really tasty morsel.
Callum's back.
(c)LIVVI

She's too beautiful for modern man.
She maybe deserved kisses to make her smile.
She's just an image upon dead canvas.
Still heart stopping.
Focus of many eyes.

She's lacking colour.
Dreary but still stunning.
She's worth a million dollars.
Actually priceless.
Not for sale.
Sure some would buy her if they could.

Her face is fixed.
Unsmiling.
Antique lady.
Unchanging.
Eternal.
Gay Paris.
No smile.
Watching the tourists as they just keep passing by.
(c)Livvi