i didn’t care

I started my run in the storm.

Harsh wind in my eyes,

And rain in my hair.

But I ran to the beach

I didn’t care that there was no one there;

I didn’t care.

And I trudged up that cliff through the hail.

As the demons of winter pushed me back

I didn’t fail.

I didn’t care that at the top

There was nobody there.

Nobody there,

I didn’t care.

And I waded through that stream and I cried,

Because something inside me

Suddenly had died;

And I needed somebody to be there,

I needed that someone to care

As the sun showed up to caress my hair

And warm me through, 

It spoke to me.

I needed you.
Lissy Lis 2016


Day of the beekeepers

Do not kill those roses

To prove you need me.

Do not spend our savings

On that Waitrose bubbly.

I need not that Thorntons

To know that you care.

Or that glittery card…

I can tell by the way you stroke my hair

The kiss on my head as you switch off the lights

The way that we laugh instead of fight

When you get up to hold me because I can’t sleep in the night

How we dance like fools when there’s no one around 

When I’m struggling to stay calm and you don’t make a sound

And you sit with me

Until peace I have found

When you let me be exactly who I am

When I’m feeling strong you still hold my hand

And how you don’t like to gloat about the happiness we share

Because in our world we are the only ones who need to care
When you are my rock everyday of my life

And how you will still be that rock when I become your wife

And how one day in Feb, just doesn’t suffice.

The art of forgiveness

I do not forgive easily

I ache from deep inside myself

Gutteral acid seeping from my stomach and chest

Forcing hard breath from my soul

As if my heart had been torn from its strings
And held there in a cold steel cage, beating only because it has no other choice

I breath

Flinching as punched hard in the gut

The pain.  The betrayal.  The harm and broken shattered soul tears.

Blood still pumps, hard, red, relentless.

Sweet dark numbness; too far from reach to even rest a moments thought on

But that moment’s crescendo explodes into deafening squeals of anguish erupting from every crevice of my being

my well of love overflowing into a waterfall of sadness and river of crystal clear emotions ebbing into the universe

Dispersing into everything 

The monotony






Then love, pure love

And sleep

Seconds, hours, days and then years

My mind wandering with the twists and turns of the present 

Thrive in the present

And when that time comes

I forgive you




By Lis December 2015 

Intro to my one woman show… Exclusive!

Well I’m in so much pain I can’t begin to try and sleep.

I’ve always dreamed of doing a one woman show.  I love to act, and write, I’m far better at monologue that dialogue for some reason.   

 I love you to read this and let me know what you think.
Lissy Lis’s one woman show… The beginning…
I’m feeling torn. Torn between trying to get a good nights sleep so I don’t feel shitty in the morning, and staying awake as long as I can to put off the agony of the morning alarm ringing in my ears. It’s 2am and I’ve decided that a good nights sleep is vastly underrated. Morning sucks harder than a no hands spaghetti eating contest.  

Have you ever had that dream? The one where you are rushing to get to work? I get that when I’m subconsciously panicked about oversleeping. It’s the one where I’m trying to leave the flat, packing my bag anxiously with work essentials, but those essential items are strewn across the room, I’m frantically hunting a hairbrush, my phone, keys, sandwiches, diary, eyeliner, my cats bowl, a cheese grater, until I realise I’m now 3 hours late. God knows how I did it but I’m out of my house, I’m rushing down the road when I come to the stark, horrific realisation I haven’t brushed my hair at all. I have sex hair, wild, knotty and matted at the back. I hunt through my bag relentlessly for that brush but I can’t find it. 

 I feel somewhat narked that I missed the part of the dream when I got my scruffy hair do, but the lucidity never lasts. 

 Oh god. My shoes! Where are my shoes? I can’t go to work barefoot can I? So I decide to call in sick. I’m trying to type numbers into my phone but I press a 0 and then a 6 appears on the screen, I delete the 6 and press 0, then a 9, 99, no a 0, 999 appears and the police automated system is literally telling me I have prank called them. No! I didn’t prank you my phone malfunctioned, oh god what if they notice my shoes, my hair! Oh god, run!
But I can’t run can I? I’m trying to run through glue, thick viscous, invisible glue. The harder I try the harder it is to move at all, I’m doomed. I’m surely doomed. I get on my knees and I’m crawling like a shoeless hobo with hooker hair down the high street, desperately clutching at the kerb, pulling myself towards the road I urgently need to cross when sirens and blue flashing lights surround me, whirring knee-knorrs getting louder and louder and louder until.  
Hang on. I’m in bed. I roll over and press snooze.
Snooze really is an amazing thing isn’t it? It amazes me how many times I can press it without even realising 2 hours have gone by. 
Well that’s it.  What do you think?  Do you have any tips? What would keep you entertained for a whole show?  Would you like me to post a performance video?

A lifetime in 20 minutes


Wide open eyes


glowing landscapes


misty skies

Settling gently 

On cotton wool

Into strong arms

a lover

Gazing into

smiling eyes

Sharing kisses with one another

rain sprinkles

rosy damp cheeks

Clouds emerging




a wooden raft

Lovers gone forever



Waves crashing fiercely



Under the deep sea



shipwrecks so ghostly

tunnel, black

sensing deathly



Going forever

But into the light 

And to sunnier weather
By Lis 

You always give me your salad.  A poem about salad, loosely ripping off The Beatles.

You always give me your salad

You don’t care about the consequences

I only asked you for a god damn toastie

Why you treat me this way?

You always give me you salad

That rancid lettuce it irritates me

Those shitty onions smell worse than cats wee

I didn’t come here for this

You always give me your salad

Even though I said ‘just a toastie’

It winds me up the way you force it on me

And I get sad.

I didn’t ask for additions

Raw tomatoes give me nightmare visions

Celery it is a nasty villain 

And cucumbers… Bad.

1, 2, 3, 4, throw your salad on the floor

5, 6, 7, 8, keep that salad off my plate
By Lis who hates salad.  Particularly ‘side salad’.