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LizaJane Apr 2019
I want your day to be amazing
Not just nice
Not happy
I want it to show you brilliant colors
Joyous sounds
Voracious appetite
Your day owes you, on so many levels
Make it dance
Make it sing
Make it bring you everything you want, and more...and more
And more.
I want your day to be amazing.

For Tristan 4.23.19
For my future daughter in law
LizaJane Apr 2019
As I lay here weeping quietly
into my pillow,
My feelings of loneliness
And separation from the norm.
I try to remember back
When I was young.
When I would run to
my bedroom, hide and cry.
It hurts me so to say,
So too I am today.
LizaJane Apr 2019
Black tarred little feet padding up and down
The dirt road.
The bandaid on her knee fresh from a fall off the slide at school.
She wandered along the oiled road looking for friends to play and run with.
She walked and ran, skipping between rocks, never a balance rule..

Her long dark hair makes her look like a lil' indian girl.
Her dark complexion darkens more in the hot summer sun.
She runs down her neighborhood road, searching...
Looking for those friends to come run in the sun kissed sun.

Far off she can hear dogs bark, and close to her, dogs answer.
She wonders, what do they say? Is it a warning?
Is it a get-together?
She can hear the cars on the highway going to and fro, where do they go?
She can hear the other children. But they are hiding, where-ever..

Her long dark hair makes her look like a lil' indian girl.
Her dark complexion darkens more in the hot summer sun.
She runs down her neighborhood road, searching ...
Looking for those friends to come run in the sun kissed sun.

Round the curve she races, finding shade under a big oak tree.
She crashes to the ground, tumbling, rolling
and ending up,
She laughs at the fun, stands to dust grass off her hurt knee.

Her long dark hair makes her look like a lil' indian girl.
Her dark complexion darkens more in the hot summer sun.
She runs downs her neighborhood road, searching...
Looking for those friends to come run in the sun kissed sun.
Memories as a child.
LizaJane Apr 2019
I think he has me now
I don't know
But in this quiet
That surrounds me
I think not.

My breathing is slow
Shallow, restful
I am in repose

He may find me here
I think hard
But keep my
Composure.

I feel him close
Reaching round
My mind starts
to race.

He is here
I can smell his dermis
Smooth and dark
I step back

It has hit me
Full force
I sink in
Floating, floating

I think he has me now
I dont know
But in this quiet that
Surronds me...
He has me.
I do alot of meditation. Coming back from it. This is what it feels like.
LizaJane Apr 2019
I got gold baby
Follow me
Had to hide it
Deep inside me
I got discoveries
I wanna find
Baby, I got gold
Follow me
I had to hide it
Deep in the sea
Dive with me
Thrive..
I got gold
Follow me baby,
I hid it deep
Inside me
Run, run & run..
The long green grass
I hid it deep
Follow me.
I still got gas in the tank and other lovelies...
LizaJane Mar 2019
I wake
Sun warmed body,
curled next are my believers.
They want nothing more.

I reach out,
one stirs...reaching paw.
Purrrrrs....
she could exist without me.
She knows it,
My believers.

The dog...stretching out...long..
Yawns...
kisses...hello!
Sticking feet
in slippers..
warm day for
my bones.
Coffee for
this believer...

Come...
My believers
The sun outside
is supple warm
With a quiet breeze
Tweety birds
at the feeder
Sing hallelujah

I meditate
and imagine
Leonard Cohen
joining in
and smile...
I talk and say
sweet nothings
To my
sweet believers.

I close my eyes
I breathe
My believers
take their positions
around me
One at foot,
and lap and table.

I wake
Sun warmed body.
Curled next
are my believers.
They want nothing more.
Wrote this AM about the past few warm days we had.
Melvin Priss..& Zoe are my believers in crime...
LizaJane Mar 2019
Forgetful
I know your name,
I do.
It's back, hiding 'round
a corner of my brain.

Why is it, why
I can't find my phone
I need it, alluding me...
Driving me insane!

I said that wrong word,
again.
Frustration, where is the
right word.
Where...

I zone out.
People talk.
But I don't hear.
I just stare.

People stare at me
sometimes.
They should.
Hot mess,
that I am.

Medically
prescribed.
Fibro fogged.
Pain... go away!
I feel ******.

So ******.
Heavy heavy heavy.
Bearing down.
Shoulders, holding
the weight.

My fight
brings on more.
The cure hurts.
I may break.
Meditate.

Calm and peace
allude me.
The pain breaks all.
The heaviness controls my world.
Fog controls word.

Trying, all the ways
to fight it.
Trying...is the word
Describing my life,
My world.
I suffer from Chronic Pain so there ya go...
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