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"Put your ear down close to your soul and listen hard." Anne Sexton 

Heather Brager is a critically acclaimed juggler of calamity, an accomplished procrastinator, and shuffler of idioms. Her poetry and drawings can be found in various digital and print journals around the globe, and on the web.  She currently resides in New England and prefers the precipice of where the Atlantic meets the sand to the official looking office where she spends most of her time. 

Tuesday, December 24, 2013


we continue to evolve
unfurling from artificial asylum
reinventing our own image
circling and pushing outward
we are ripples on the surface
of a bottomless pool

© 12.24.13 heather brager  

Monday, October 28, 2013

once upon a time.

it would still be dark further west
she would remember plum colored hills
benevolent, cold and drunk

bones removed from their hands
small trinkets nestled in deep pockets
the memories of declining charm

winds pushed west to east
peaks reflecting in wet eyes
she lived in a glass amongst the ice

it would resurrect in the morning
mist in their mouths and frost on the foothills
they knew this would happen

© 10.28.13 heather brager   

Monday, October 14, 2013

you are a contradiction.

you are not my spirit
faltering behind
and within my body

your steps are a hesitant swallow
on a bare branch
on the bare ground
you are no longer the tide

you are inside my skull 
a translucent paper cube
you are compression
you are flight

© 10.14.13 heather brager  

Monday, October 7, 2013

post traumatic.

she used to be pure
a looking glass is shattered
remnants of the past 

© 10.7.13 heather brager  

Monday, September 30, 2013

above route 3.

she is subservient
to the voices, but not
their effort to quell a voracious
taste for the truth

panic with its filthy fingers
climbs into her throat
the stale insides of her cage
coerce a plunge, and
she constructs the flight

pain is a living thing
it coddles terror in its blanket
without a heart, or wings

© 9.30.13 heather brager  

Thursday, September 12, 2013


“I am still so na├»ve; I know pretty much what I like & dislike; but please, don’t ask me who I am. A passionate, fragmentary girl, maybe?” ― Sylvia Plath

Friday, September 6, 2013

the mindreader.

she barely unraveled the words
recollections of sunlight through linen
she tried to recapture blended features
considered drawing his lips in charcoal

she listened closely to voices on the wind
studied a vibrant blue butterfly under glass
she wanted to decipher an alternate reality
but never could understand the language

© 9.6.13 heather brager