http://www.TnAwithHeather.life/

T & A with Heather, Portland, ME (2025)

12/23/2024

I ride broomsticks and horses
Dress in metal and fabric
Undress in revelations and reflections
Lay eggs when I smell babies
Conjure in the kitchen
Plant with seeds and chicken feet
Garnish with rosemary
Carry garlic and cinnamon
Shiny stones for wisedom and circles
Create fires to destruct
Grow fingernails to point with precision
And I grow hair for you to climb into the tower I was birthed in
I hiss at the devil
And sometimes with him
We dance defiantly
Under the same moon
And stare into the sun
I melt and dissolve into earth
Grow back with self worth
To f**k magic wands and commune with god
Unlocking magic
With bad habits
The next 3 days I revel in the dark
Roll on the cold earth
To remember the witch waking
Gifts of solstice
Take flight to the moon
On a horse that’s on a broomstick
Returning to the coven of stars
Re turning to the stars

12/04/2024

Just your average bottomless pit of poetry and romance,
Constantly unsatisfied, subtlety asking for more
You can’t fill the bottomless Pisces cenote
Committed to un satisfaction and distaste
Keeps the pen flowing
Bottomless inspiration
A need for fun I won’t allow
Safe home alone in fantasy
Neptune illusion
Who rules who
Poseidon pitch fork
The devil of unconditional love
Lucifer is falling
Love to the bottomless
Is unconditional
Heart expansion, Neptune divinity

11/13/2024

Mornings are hard. Spend the days shaking off restless sleep. Mars has got me in a roar. Neptune brings the tears. When will this conjunction end. It is damp and tiring. I awake feeling the fixed presence of Scorpio. Astrological excuses! Definitely not logical, I just need something that makes sense. Other than the past. Been there done that, felt that. Why do I need to feel it again? Mind, shut the f**k up! Mind your own business! The problem that I gift to myself. It’s not logical, it’s astrological. I’ve spent 400 years reading stars. Understanding mars. Internal warfare. I come from this light. What is the problem? Mercury. Do not kill the messenger. It’s me, why can’t I just shut the f**k up. I can hear myself but my mouth is not moving. Introversion, another version of self. A version that is safe not sorry. Safe from artificial light. Safe from fights I’m afraid to have. So I put them here in my prayer book. A book of prayers for freedom. I don’t where it is, somewhere inside. I only know what she wants, want we want. It’s peace, peace of mind. So I unravel under the sun. Getting ready to return to the light. The bounce of humanity, back and forth, illusion of duality. Until we learn the knowing that’s already there. Deep inside the lizard brain. The energy of creation seeded deep at the base of the skull or the best of the heart, and remember to shut the f**k up.

11/02/2024

This life moves rapid fire, half of a life to figure out what may be bu****it, the other half to undo what may or may not be true. I am always searching for the truth, that feeling of resonance that lights up the inside. I stumble through the brain fog of overwhelming opinions and narrative that are none of my business. I ascend to Neptune and worship Mars to avoid internal forest fires of the microbiom. God turns me inside out, upside down and right side in so I can figure out the other half of my life over coffee and tea. If I have the privilege to live it I will become the wise fool, dancing off a cliff with mans best friend. I hope I see my dad as I spin back into the genetics that wove me. Jumping time lines and picking all the apples. Who came first me or you? The chicken or egg? I am an earth worm figuring out the other half by breaking and growing a new in the underworld, over and over again. Stuck in the shadows. The same moon that lights you lights me, so why are we fighting over a rib. Why are we fighting over why’s and whose? Why are these bombs filling up my feed and why am I eating them? I was there first, Lebanon I miss you. I miss the life before the ruins. Before the apples temptations and shame. When I wore loin clothes and leaves, I was Queen. I miss being with you BC. Because. In the Phoenician temples you can shoot out but not in. I am writing to solve internal war unfair of the second half of this lifetime. I remember why I love the horses now. before there was cars there was horseback and I ran away before I drove. How do you like my mustang? How do you like those apples? So now on the back of a soft and sweet Morgan we work toghether to get back to embodied souls. I drive myself to the barn, and help myself to feel the truth, and share my apple with the half that connect to whole.

11/01/2024

I’m tired from a life of process. Processed foods, processing emotions, mental processing. The brain fog, the inflammation, the good old American standard. I’m always pulling back the veil, reading in between the lines, shuffling until the archetype reveals their story on the floor. I fill my home with flowers, soak up the oil, lay in all the waters, and salt up wherever I go. Here I am in a pile of food I didn’t grow. My hands can make bread, stir yogurt, crack eggs. I still capitalize with fine dining, a good mattress with high thread sheets. Who am I living for and how is it going? I ask and answer with my best friend the pen. I am half feral half civilized. My memory serves with the remembering of human technology, and I am not talking about AI. I’m taking about Atlantis, Phoenicia, and Ancient Egypt Mystery school. The soul remembers what the mind makes up. So while the nation is casting ballots, I will cast spells activating the great reverence to the god that still resides inside us. Reminded and remembering the star dust we came from and will return to. I will plug into the infinite love, grounded my gravity, floating in space and become my favorite word. SOVEREIGN.

10/24/2024

Tic tock to the Moon in Leo. This may be more pleasant the 29 degrees of Cancer. The degree of whine whine whine. Wine that leaves the mouth like drool. I try to make sense of the senseless. Shaking out old wounds like a polar bear, a grizzly bear, a mama bear. Old memories stain like blood between my legs. One day I will miss the clock in my body. The ultra purge, the ticking and tocking. I’m not doing any of the things, the b**b tape and paps, the obstetric hell created by men. I will just keep to the shaking, with rest in between, with words in between, with expressions to be seen. Our demons can dance. I’ll dance with the devil, to free me from victimhood. I will untangle or dissolve. Melt away from the scripted mess written in English. I’m a women, crone, and witch. I’m voting for my broom stick, the one that keeps crossing the door, landing in the floor. I’m am earth bound, lost the power of flight in this life. I can’t vote if I don’t believe it’s true. I believe in Neptune, planet of mystic illusion and unconditional love. I’m witnessing the vote for mars disguised as Saturn. Saturn the responsible thing to do, they told you and me. Just like paps, b**b rapes, and all the oscapies keep you safe. I will not open this portal for diluted grey magic. I’m checking boxes and filling in blanks. I vote for the Fertile Crescent, I vote for home before land claimed. I vote for the Witch and queen that lives inside me, I vote for the soul.

10/11/2024

From bud to death
Everything oxidates
Rusty old men
Trying to run us
Or run from us
It’s all death and decay
No one wins either way
Trees crash, leaves fall
On the ground floor
To make more
It doesn’t really matter who wins
When storms and wars clear out the things
We suffer
And can not stop
Thinking our freedom
Is about the win
When it’s more about the natural cycle
Karma and weather
Karma is weather
Creation destruction
Death and decay
You are not my man
I’m not casting votes
I’m casting a spell
With the dirt and deer
To process this fear
Of predators with no instinct
I am here with you
We are hear together
In the earth womb
Birthed by big bang
Solar system
We don’t have to vote for return
T-Rex is coming up with the sun
Seeds coming out of the ash
Flora and fungi in the cracks
The natural network
Is the war on terror
The tree chops
The fracking that’s f**king are source
Which really can’t be fuct with
It always returns
Natural cycle
The natural disaster Is karmic message
When we don’t land tend
So I watch the fall from my window
Let the leaves lie
Until I can lie with them, and die

10/01/2024

Window are open, it is late September. The thick breeze invites someone else’s bacon sizzle and singing into the bedroom, and I know for sure my pleasure sounds from last night were equally received. My lover delivers coffee and I plan out my story from the softness of bed without anxiety. The coffee has not hit yet. I feel young and in love for free first time since I was young and in love. Only this time without the drama. I plan out the simple life on horseback with chicken eggs, getting up soon to tend to the turmeric sourdough, so it doesn’t over expand and stick to my hands. Life is good from bed in this moment. I have a flash of Lebanon bombs, Zeuses lighting strikes, this man made madness. I transmute the deep scars of all to familiar resistance with love and prayer, remembering my humaneness has the power of alchemy. Much like Zeus’s hand shooting lightening. I remember light is as familiar as darkness, and I spell cast from bed to Beirut, I bi-locate like Anna from Carmel school of mystery, cause we are the same. Human oneness. Expand and disperse, like breath, like clouds, remembering the simple life was also war on horseback and breaking bread on the table. Remember that we are tribe and my unseen neighbor continues his singing and eats his bacon sizzle, and the wind carries pleasure sounds like bird song and chasing squirrels. Remembering war was once the same as erupting volcanos, and the earth floods are her crying for help, or taking care of herself, and all that she birthed. She reminds civilization that we are not so civilized humans, and magic is normal, magic is everywhere.
I’m safe in bed with sounds of the breeze and in this moment I choose to remember light, and that is simple so I send and receive this long lost sound of memory and peace choosing to harness this frequency before it’s forgotten.

09/10/2024

I wake up in the morning with cluttered half thoughts that skip around in my brain. I try to guess what neurodivergence I would refuse to be diagnosed with if I went to the doc. I’ve made enough sense of my parent’s dysfunctions and unconscious. I absorbed them like the child like sponge I was and still am. I know now, NOW that it is time to move forward at high speed from this madness and stale excuses of what could have been. How I should have been loved, been loved more, loved right, loved in a way that would make me not like this, this not me. I touch my heart and surrender to the love I can give myself, the love that pours to my family. My thoughts turn into feelings of light and sadness, both and, a duality to neutralize and ascend to Pisces. A forgiving Christ consciousness I used to think was a joke. Impossibly crucified without resurrection. The bottom less pit of redemption. I remember all the dismembering in the bath as I drain out the pain. I remember who I am and it is not who you told me. I am old messy and graceful, I am both and nothing at all. I remember my parts connected to your parts. I remember wholeness and the gift of being millions of molecules vibrating together at light speed. I remember how to separate and love through the rupture and rapture. I touch my heart and remember the love I emerged from, the first inhale. Neurodivergence, narcissisms and addictions are labels made to forget who you are. To separate and learn hate. I remember the mother I was born into, and to take care as her external womb is the reflection of the inside of mine, of ours. I remember love.

08/27/2024

Summer seems endless
In it’s hot swell
Long days of Sun rays
Summer is hot
Until it’s not
It’s long
Until it gone
And I just get lost
In the swell
Of the waves
In the heat of the sun
I go madness
Trying to understand
This relationship that starts with love
Is overdone
Over come with to much
I drag through town
Swollen with angst
Waiting for the fall
The breeze
The equinox to equalize
The beast inside
That’s to tired to howl at the moon
And everyday the ocean and lake
Solar intake
Overdosed on U.V.
I get crazy
And lazy
To lazy to move
Of the hot sand
To lazy to put on shoes
And to lazy to react to the angst
And then Virgo breezes in
I can breathe
Relief and ease
I can root in
When prison starts again
I mean school
And this system
That I love to test
Cool down and undress
The massive swell of summer
Seems to short
In slow shrinking light
The witch can emerge
The water has purged
Cleansed and healed
The restless mischief inside
I thrive
In the whole of a tree
With a collection of poetry
About birds and squirrels
Sun sets and moon rises
I take in the horizon

07/25/2024

Arrived at some sort of endless grief cycle. Never say never, I nevered a lot. Maybe it’s temporary, always temporary, I’m still here sovereign with integrity, more than before the illusion of it. In this moment my words align with action and I stare out at creation with the sun on my face. Tribal anklets, amber bracelet, and mirror amulet reflecting the Sun, reflecting creation. In a bubble of silver lake, echoing loons, and the dragon flies that were once dads land on my skin and remind me of forever, and to never say never. Resentment for my Mom is resentment awareness for myself. These are gifts of covert abuse. Detachment for my Dad is now detached compassion, and my heart below the mirror is a love that is true, active, unconditional and very much alive. It is as temporary as endless grief. It as temporary as the rumination’s of not being enough, not doing enough. Going deep with 17 year old boys to men, there is hope that this world will be better, as I better my world temporarily. Purity pours from through my heart from my hands to land on a page. Saved again by my own magic. 17 year old rage in a 46 year old body is temporarily as pure as this ink stained paper. The water in the lake, the mirror in my chest is part of me. Part heavy, part light, part purity, part demon, and all love because. We are all a part of something. We all come from mothers, part tough as mother, the expression of creation. I birthed myself through so called endless grief. I pushed myself through unknown portals of contraction and resistance. This is mother magic, crone magic, life. The once dad dragon flies eat flies, the frogs breakfast create bubbles and rings in the lake, and the loons make tubes claiming their so called territory with sound vibration. I sit in the heart of it understanding that truth is as endless and vast as the air. Dragonflies are Dads and Moms weave the matrix of webs. Simple is not so secret with loons on a lake.

06/08/2024

First class
my ass
wants a seat
front row
waste show
first to get off
to wait in a line
a conveyor belt of people
airports were fun
when I was five
holding up the sign
to find people that looked like me
wanting free
fleeing from a not so civil war
the darker the tan
the blacker the hair
the bigger the search
crossing the border from Canada
to nowhere Maine
with my Great friend and children
why didn’t we prepare
land is the same as air
we make the most of this light
absorbing in our skin
who can get darker
baking like chickens international

T & A with Heather

12/23/2024

12/04/2024

11/13/2024

11/02/2024

11/01/2024

10/24/2024

10/11/2024

10/01/2024

09/10/2024

08/27/2024

07/25/2024

06/08/2024

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