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Five Bucket Drummer

2/27/2015

Been writing this week. Revising a few new poems. Here is one.... probably still editing to do on it...

Five Bucket Drummer

Five bucket drummer
in the Times Square Station
steady as a subway
steady as all steel and stone
playing like a one-man
marching band
strong arms pounding
a human generator
powering the city
like all lives depend
on not stopping
the mechanical parade.

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My Woods

2/22/2015

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Oof. Been busy in tech and opening the play The Church of Why Not with Theatre 167. Talk about beautiful poetry, btw, whew! But always hard to keep the writing engine going while operating in performer-brain. So, lest this blog should fall into complete neglect while I try to wrestle it back, here is an old favorite poem. It can be found in my chapbook. :-)

My Woods

I took you to my woods
old rocks, old trees, old me
I took you to my woods
to tell you something important
we tramped tramped through
I was alone
and you were there too
but it was my walk
in my woods
and for once you let me lead
I tried to explain
the rocks and the trees
to tell you
the pond and the sky
to divide for you
the parts that came after
from the parts I can draw
with my eyes closed
and smell in my dreams
how it felt when I ran to these woods
how it felt to be there now
but I didn’t know how
old rocks, old trees, old me
there in my woods
I found no words to say
so I held you in my woods
real close
to see if you could hear me
anyway.

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The Cyclone

2/11/2015

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This is a poem I wrote a couple years ago. The day after I told my husband I didn't want to be married anymore I felt like I needed to scream a lot and stare at water for hours so I went to Coney Island.

The Cyclone

Yes, screaming.
She came into the world
the second time
the same way as the first:

Late September
asked his only passenger
“Front or Back?”
She said “Back”
He said “That’ll be a Rough Ride!”
She said “I know my roller coasters”
and sat down.
This time, with no seat-mate,
at every big drop her thighs
slammed against the bar
slammed against the bar
slammed against the bar
After,
while she climbed out hoarse and sore
He said “You are BRAVE!”
She thought “Man, you have no idea.”

then She
allowed herself a tiny smile
raised her face up to the sun
then She
released the bar
of her rough ride
then She
allowed back in
a little pride

then She
began
again.

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Five Bucket Drummer

My Woods

The Cyclone

Heather Lee Rogers

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Five Bucket Drummer

My Woods

The Cyclone

﻿﻿Heather Lee Rogers﻿﻿

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Heather Lee Rogers