Blog Archives

Hurricane Poem

4/25/2015

a new poem about a past memory...
(published June 16, 2016 in the Rat's Ass Review's Love and Ensuing Madness section!)

Hurricane Poem

When the hurricane came
they were trapped together
the city locked down tight
and everything had already been said
so she filled bag after bag after bag
hauling out a decade’s clutter
heart raw, she knew he felt
like she was doing this to him
just an old magazine or carnival prize
sorting him into the pile of
“not needed anymore”
yet rain raging, world flooding
she was a bag-filling machine
she’d be moving out soon
he was fondly coveting
these last days of her company
her hollow soul was howling
with the wind and rain.

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April Grief Poem - for my friends

4/17/2015

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Way too many of my friends are going through tough times this month.

April Grief Poem – for my friends

Heart too full
of death and dying
the hyacinths on Lexington
offend my breath
the blunt rush of bodies and
mangled metal traffic jams but
new spring skies are blue blue blue
bright daffodils in blinding bloom
cloud wisps slip by the sun
a lover trailing her silk scarf
across a seductive sky
but my friends, my friends
while others shed their winter coats
my poor friends peel their skin
and in their hungry April grief
their bones bleach in the sun.

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For Purvi Patel

4/12/2015

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I can't believe the insanity in this country right now. I wrote this a year or so ago. Enough already!!! Feticide convictions, are you kidding me?!?! Poor woman.

Curves and Lines

40 years after Roe v Wade
I still need to pass through
a metal detector
have my bag searched
and show ID twice
just to see a Doctor
and pick up some pills.

The lines were drawn
before I was born
the lines were drawn
before all Mothers were born
the lines were drawn
with Lillith and Eve
and all the Adams then and since
are still
afraid
of women.

        See Women created Life
        so Men created God
        in their own divine image
        as an ally
        to protect themselves
        from us.

So today
a young girl
in a pink “volunteer” apron
shifts from foot to foot
outside the high security clinic
because a young boy
on the corner
is passing out pamphlets.
I’d lived three lives
and seen four countries
before this pup popped
from his momma’s choice
yet he still presumes
so much authority
over me.

So I cross the line
to see a doctor
I cross the line
just to be seen
I cross the line
to be treated
for one american hour
as a person
qualified
to make up her own mind.

---
HEY! This poem was also published on the S/tick blog on 7/22/15! Hooray!

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Girls' Dressing Room

4/7/2015

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Drowning
in the waves
of successful and
giddy young women
they are beautiful
they smile enough
their warm salt water
flows over me
their kind confidence
fills my nose and burns
and I feel
like the old failed fish
flopping around on shore
until the next wave
of their happy chatter
smacks me floating again
through the CO2 bonanza
they exhale
all over my dull
and shivering scales.

-Published March 2016 in issue 3.2 of S/tick's online literary journal!

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Hurricane Poem

April Grief Poem - for my friends

For Purvi Patel

Girls' Dressing Room

Heather Lee Rogers

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Hurricane Poem

April Grief Poem - for my friends

For Purvi Patel

Girls' Dressing Room

﻿﻿Heather Lee Rogers﻿﻿

Archives

Categories

Heather Lee Rogers