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𝑆𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑚𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑏𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑜𝑢𝑟 '𝑓𝑎𝑣𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒' 𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝑤𝑒 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 '𝑤𝑎𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔' 𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡!!
being in waiting list today to be in favourite list someday..🤞
Laokos Mar 2021
heather is a feminine body
in a suede chair under charcoal ceilings

perry is wearing
sweaters to evening dinners

katie is a black light poster
in newspaper print

alex is an origami sailboat

spoon feed yourself some more cathleen,
the cats are waiting
Kay-Rosa Apr 2019
When Cheryl Blossom said,
name was Heather,"
No one else heard
The silent emphasis,
but it rang in my ears.
A persistent stinging in the back of my throat,
tearing at my eyes
pouring from my mouth,
coating my ******* thick,
black and red
vicious drink of liars.
Lily Dec 2018
You were an amazing band mom.
You were stern:
“Come back here and pick up your uniform!”
You were kind:
“I packed you a lunch for your long day.”
You were an incredible principal.
You were stern:
“You really need to start turning in your homework.”
You were kind:
“If you come to my office after school, I will help you.”
You were a wonderful mother.
You were stern:
“Come here right now and put your clothes away!”
You were kind and loving:
“If you ever need to talk about anything, I’m here.”
Even though you were taken
So suddenly from us yesterday,
No one will forget you and
How you influenced everybody in your circle and
Today is one of those gloomy rainy days,
And I know why.
It’s because even the heavens are crying for you.
On December 26th, the Lord took my good friend's mother, Heather, up to heaven to be with Him.  These are all sentences she either said to me or I heard her say.  Her death was very sudden, and she will be missed by so many.
Heather Ann Oct 2018
where does heather grow?
in the north
blossoming; under late summer skies.
it is the fire
as told in old norse
like it was spoken from the gods,
in mere whispers,
too afraid of the spark.
Rachel Dyer Dec 2017
He whispered.
I felt the warmth slide down the smooth skin just behind my ear.
His lips pressed gently upon my forehead.
Come home.
This time louder.
Come home darling.
His accent thick and broad.
Aren't you tired?
Come rest by my side. Come drift in the heather high on the moors.
Come home to me.
Aren't you weary from the fight shield maiden?
Lay down your broad sword, remove your boiled leather let the ravens report your homecoming.
Come home.
Then his lips are on mine and they taste of the earth, of the dirt, of the mist, and that land of mine.
My eyes open and I see my ghost.
I knew it was you. Must it always be ?
Must it always be you who awakens me, who calls me home.
Just send me the mist. Just send me the moors. Just send me the piercing chill of the harbor in December. Wake me with the ancient call of gulls. Enough of the tortured remnants of the past we must both hide. Enough of this my love. Enough of this, goodbye.
a flagrant lie slid by;
then another,

then another;

from a whistle to a clamor
of 'blood and soil';

soon they were marching
on The Lawn;
over our parched preamble

and a general
perched high on his gelding gray
stared in stoic silence



can you hear the truth
in the din of silence?

can you?

can you see the lies
through glazed eyes?

can you?

can you find your voice
in a maze of hate…

and take a stand

as flames of bigotry
sear the conscience of a nation?

heather did.

~ Pablo
Ode to Heather D. Heyer, an innocent victim of domestic terrorism in Charlottesville, VA on Saturday, 8/12/2017.
Pearson Bolt Aug 2017
we held hands behind the Black Lives Matter banner.
we took to the streets in solidarity with Heather Heyer
opposing white supremacy and every vestige of bigotry.

the cops stood idle while racists circled
the park like sharks to shake our resolve.
but we carry a new world in our head and hearts.

we marched down Kennedy and Ashley
no badge or gun could hope to stop us hundreds.
we mourned and wept and rose like lions.

no justice, no peace! no racist police!
1-2-3-4, this is ******* class war!
5-6-7-8, organize to smash the State!

i cannot find the rhythm and beat amidst this misery.
but, in her memory, we will drive the fascists out.
from Tampa Bay, FL to Charlottesville, VA: *¡No pasaran!
This is less a poem and more a collection of thoughts, images, and experiences. For Heather Heyer. Rest in Power. Martyrs live forever.
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