The Dude


Whoa, whoa here we go, here we go.

“I can’t feel my face when I’m with you.”

Hills spill into elegant waves.

Calm before the storm, they say.

Crash burn, rubber smokes.

Trippy nights turn into beautiful days.

Whites of her eyes.

Feel of her thighs.

Gleam of that smile, boo.

Bond, bond…that kind of connect.

Years will pass, always reflect.

Keeping Oscar on the frontline.

Dedicated to the art.

Always time for play.

Just working to get paid.

Back to the real, to the feel.

Adrenaline rush experiencing the blush.

Never been seen before like that, never before.

When the spirits call, but the sun light tortures.

“It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.
Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon.”

No goodbye baby, till next time.

There is a moment, a place, a figure and a face.

“And I love, and I love it.”

               -Heather Lombardo




In the shadows of leprechauns there was a kiss and a Mickey, not in that order.
Blood for blood, piece by piece.
A giraffe became your prey, almost gave it away.
Hours of talking, wasting, wanting, facing.
Affection? Hell no. Number one ho.
So twisted? Never listen? Just a machine.
Spanish women twirled for us, gave to us came for us.
Sex, cheese, wine, a need…not in that order.
Baby please, nevermore.
Brains, beauty and the beast, everything modifies.
The last time to say goodbye, break the wall.
Saw the stars in your eyes, felt the universe explode.
It’s a conquest to you, a new vision for me.
You say you gave a fuck, but if you did you wouldn’t have done what you’ve done.
No worries love, I know what I am to you.
Smarter than the average gash.
Only thing I can count on is…
Thank you sir may I have another.

-Heather Lombardo

Wounded Bird


They are majestic, a wounded bird.
Flapping wildly to get away from prying eyes.
Scared and impassioned, to live, to be free.
Softly crying, maybe screaming but we can’t see.
Fighting for that next step without damage, just get to that tree.
Please God, get me to the tree said the wounded bird.
Pieces fall and feathers fly, each one lost forever.
The little bird searches for peace, waiting for calm just trying to be clever.
Oh sweet bird you can strive you can feel better, you can’t give up now, not ever.
Please God get me to the tree…let me be free.  
– Heather  Lombardo

Marvel and their “Average Joe”


I saw a tweet and I read the thread, it was accompanied by a link about a Native American superhero, Red Wolf, that Marvel is showcasing. The editor of the new series stating that he would be more of an “Average Joe” which, what that implies is still confusing. They will also be diversifying the rest of their superheroes, Captain America will be black and Thor will grow tits.

Let’s start with, I am a huge comic book fan. Marvel, DC of course being my favorites, yet even the gritty basement comics grab my attention. Men and women saving lives and the super villains always getting in the way of progress…love it all. I guess suspending the disbelief that someone can be bit by a radioactive spider and start climbing walls is easier to understand than how Marvel thinks that giving Thor boobs is diversifying the series.

I am a writer. Marvel has staffs of people like myself that get paid to think of ideas…Hey yo think of new characters. Stop recycling. You have a slew of women characters that are amazing that don’t get their own real credit. Wonder Woman has been around since the forties and she is just getting her own movie in 2017 ( I know the TV show, but just chill). Starfire is the most amazing alien in my opinion, much more innocent and kind than that other alien we hear so much about (Superman) and she really only gets credit for following around Robin and having his baby. Which lets face it, is the best thing about Dick.

I digress, I could talk about the sexism, racism, classism and all the isms of the comic book world. There are plenty of independent publishers out there making incredible stories…I want to focus on the oddness of why Marvel one of the biggest comic book generators can’t just create new characters? Is it money? Marketing dollars shouldn’t be an issue. Is it just an easy way out? That is my concern. Red Wolf will be stripped of his tribal identity, he will be essentially an action star now. The ability to communicate with wolves might be squished as well, so they can create an “Average Joe”. Red Wolf is a member of the Squamish nation, which is so brilliant yet too politically incorrect to use? That is the only reason I read that they will keep him away from stating a tribe.  So that is where you draw your line…I guess.

Trying to create a cool diverse Native American superhero is GREAT, although you did that. Forge is spectacular, he’s an inventor, having the ability to create anything.  What a great role model, even working with Tony Stark’s team. You also have Mirage/ Dani/ Psyche who does it all, she is a cross over X-Men, S.h.i.e.l.d Agent even Hellions. Warpath is big time even being featured in an X-Men movie.

Point is, we can create new more modern characters. You don’t have to reuse, let Red Wolf stay in his alternate universe. Don’t put boobs on Thor, get Starfire involved, why make Captain America Black when you have the Falcon, just have to globalize them. Grant it, I know the diversification changes have been made. I just think speaking with prominent members of varies groups would bring lasting support to the characters. Who knows maybe they did and this is what the end result was. It just doesn’t seem that way.

Here is the article on mashable I saw that started my internal conversation.

I developed two male superheroes one is Native American and one is African American. I’m a white woman, it can be done Marvel. Imagination and the ability to think about how other humans live, let me do it. Like that one guy said “YOU HAVE THE POWER” oh wait, that was Mattel. How about advice from an elder….

“With great power comes great responsibility”





Memories of Malcolm X



My daughter was given the task to pick a historical figure and give a presentation. We are discussing who she would like to be and she asked me if I had done this project. I thought back and I remember I had . I choose Malcom X.

I was a white 8 year old girl dressed as a middle aged black man. I felt very connected to him, not that our lives are interconnected. I will NEVER understand what he went through, it was his power, his speech that connected me to him. I didn’t think it was abnormal that I choose him, although I grew up in a very colorless suburb my parents encouraged me. I memorized parts of his last speech at Barnard College (which I am sad to say I don’t remember). I must have spoke the words “It is incorrect to classify the revolt of the Negro as simply a racial conflict of black against white, or as a purely American problem. Rather, we are today seeing a global rebellion of the oppressed against the oppressor, the exploited against the exploiter.”

I remember I stood on a chair to do this (I have always been very dramatic). I wore a skinny black tie and my dad’s old glasses. At the end of what I can only assume was a thrilling presentation I brought to school a fake gun and had a classmate “assassinate” me as I walked. I fell down and everything making sure to stand up and explain the action that occurred in detail and why it happened. This was in 1987- 88

I was not taught to be racist and honestly if my teacher was to tell my classmates parents about my presentation, it might have been a real problem. I was raised to look up to people that want to make the world a better place. I don’t even think my parents made any reference to a person’s skin color just are they good or bad. Even making it clear that good people do bad things at times to survive. Thanks Mom and Dad, my dad is so progressive, yet catholic and for most of his life a Republican, figure that out 😉

I can’t even imagine my teacher’s thoughts, so sad I can’t remember the grade. This was such a crazy revelation for me considering the state of our country at the moment. I am proud of my 8 year old self, whether I knew it was going to be a big deal and decided it matter more that I speak about this civil rights warrior or that I had no clue it would be an issue.

I’ll leave you with this… “I believe in human beings, and that all human beings should be respected as such, regardless of their color.” – Malcolm X 





My Drug


I’m addicted.
I need the rush.
The blurred flush.
Stars in my eyes…breathless.
Call me Walter, I’ll do what it takes, cook the right mix.
On my knees, begging for my fix.
Swallowing methadone when all I wanted was my beautifully pure heroin.
Surging through my veins, calming the thoughts, silencing the beast.
My eyes gaping with new light.
Searching for the needle, my China white.
“We tripped on the urge to feel alive and now I’m struggling to survive.”
Clawing at the mediocre, get another.
The color was fading, the beast was growing.
Going days in grays.
No, it won’t do, it didn’t work.
I needed you.
Not need you, want you.
Want is desired, need is required.
Chasing my dragon.
Dealer please may I have another?
Shoot, gush, exhale…inspired. – HLombardo

Instagram Inspired Poem


Baby boy
I can have anyone you see
That’s not a problem for me
What I want is you
Maybe not you, maybe the essence of you Baby boy you don’t understand what I can do Who I can be
I put on my heels, my pencil skirt that top that just goes a little below where it should be
I can have Heads of State, NBA in their prime, actors, even those religious cats that scream
Smooth like silk is what they call me
A nice smile and a wink, is what it takes
It’s so easy you see
Don’t for moment think you have it on me
I wash away the hurt and I store away the memory
I wish you well baby boy trying to forget about me
“Ooh child things are gonna get easier.”

Basketball Shorts


I love everything about basketball. The game, the action, the athletics, the players. So I decided I would mix two things that excite me the most…Basketball and romance in a timed exercise, I only have 10 min start to finish. Here is my first:

He focused on the game, shoot arounds, three pointers and plays. He was idolized, he felt the expection like bullets. He knew he was going to see her tonight and that calmed him.

She was wrapped in excitement, a different view he never had. Six hours, that was it, six hours.

She got off the bus, a new city to see him. The last meeting was innocent sweet banter, but this time she had his attention if only for the night. The plan was to meet at the restaurant at 7 for dinner. After that it was whatever, no expectations at least that’s what he said.

He took a shower, rubbed his knee. Not built like he used to be. He was ready to relax, he looked at her picture she sent him, smiled a little. He was ready to start his night. He went down to the hotel restaurant “Foder for two?” “Yes sir, your table is ready.” He sits and orders a titos and soda.

She walks into the restaurant and sees him sitting, she glides over to the table.

He sees his pretty girl dressed in a black dress with thigh high boots.

She sees her gentle giant looking at her with anticipation. He is so beautiful.

She sits across from him. “Hi”

“How was your bus?” He askes.

“Fine, long, but worth it” she replies with a wink.

They ate swiftly, both wanting the meal to end. The conversation was light and jovial. They ended sharing a chocolate mousse.

“Do you want to come up to my room?” He asked.

“I would love to.” She answered.

He pressed 12 and they went up. Both stood as far apart as possible.

He opened the door and led her in. Clothes everywhere, food and nikes strewn about.

“I’m glad you cleaned up for me” she smiled.

“Yeah, well it was a long day.” He chuckled.

He looked at her and closed the door. “Get undressed.” He demanded.

“Oh wow, that was quick.” She answered while pulling off her dress.

“I have wanted you for months, I needed to see you.” He replied pulling her close to him.

They kissed, he dominanted her, he picked her up easily being a foot taller. He looked up at her when he kissed her inner thighs. She moaned his name and slide her fingers through his hair. She climaxed yelling his name. She wanted to make sure he was pleasured so she got on her knees, begging to put him in her mouth.

She sucked out his soul and jumped on top, for the next round. They melted into each other and came. Falling asleep right after. They woke up the next morning across the bed. He pulled her close to him and they snuggled. She took the time to bank this…she knew it was the last time.

Gas Station Pizza


Eating gas station pizza remembering the night.

She touches her lips, swollen and ruby red.

Mouth to mouth, breathless babe.

Passionate kisses souls connect.

Will you remember her, babe?

“He’s so tall and handsome as hell, is so bad, but he does it so well.”

Tight pants and comfortable dreams.

You will do anything for her, babe.

Working on her best Jackie impression being a Marilyn all her life.

Even if she never sees you again even if this was their only chance thank you, babe.

The Nightwing to her Starfire.

Don’t worry most of you won’t get that he said.

You say they have nothing on her, all the princesses can’t beat the queen.

Wildest Dreams, remember that, babe.

Pot to Pieces


Oh my what happened.. can you clarify?

Is the love for a moment cancelled?

Oh my, me…I should have trusted me

Should have asked more questions
Or no questions asked

I thought I understood, silly me

Thought there was a connection a suggestion.

No me, no you, no we

Fine, we’re good we’re great, I thought I understood.

The moment passed

Laugh, smile good, crase

As the day lasts, the figure fades

Look at the sky, wonder why

That’s cool, no matter, no care

I thought I understood, just hurt too good

-Heather Lombardo