Black Balloon

I fill my room with black balloons
helium high keeps me up at night
but that’s the least of my worries
and I have few in comparison
to years ago when I dreaded
the rise of the sun…or its setting

The clouds hang low every now and then
And off in the distance there is a haze
that can’t or won’t burn off for days and days
My personal prison wistfully floating
…and self-imposed
Familiar or not – it’s just my way
…reluctantly, I suppose
and I’m not sure how I ended black balloons shadows blended

The days slip by; the weekends turn around so fast
its remnants never leave they always stay
and wont resolve themselves until it’s far too late
so I continue to sleep walk night into day
I never see the sun set on the horizon anymore
because I can’t find the time to sit…or wait

Dreams fall short when purpose and angst
have met their match twisted ribbons I do adore
black balloons begin to fall leaving nothing
but latex shadows on the floor

Point of contention I do recall
this was never about you at all
This was never about you
and the dragons that you have slain
or the demons that sleep comfortably in my bed
and childhood pranksters do remain
…and black balloons shimmer in the night
drifting gently sweet-one as they dance with delight

©2017 TrilbyYates

Time Line Unwind

Late night street lights buzz and flicker
almost a bit too much of a slow beat drag
slip your hand into mine and lets walk along the river
Brooklyn Bridge backdrop illuminating
and I can’t see past the halo around your head

All that glitters isn’t gold
and baby don’t I know it to be true
but only time will tell if a dull shine suits me
kind of the way I think you do
and if a wish and a prayer can carry the day
I’d be on my knees thinking about a hell of a lot more
than the color of your eyes as rosary beads slide
across the planks of this old wood floor

Yes it’s been a long time coming
and I’m not even sure I’m on the right path
because maybe I’ve waited too long
to climb down from the widows walk
for lack of interest when all I wanted
was less and nothing more

“And now I need a break man; a step back
loosen the slack, let the hands of the clock…
tick took tick tick, set me free
time line unwind…”

©2017 TrilbyYates

Vodka Tonic

Ice cubes in a glass
Tito’s poured slowly
tonic two fingers from the top
slice of lime
juice rubbed around the rim
walk outside feel the ocean breeze
and drift away
we sit across a small table
from one another
candle light spins time
into a void
you look at me eyes still sky blue
and brilliant
I can’t help but wonder
how time flies
when life and love took us
in different directions
not an excuse a simple fact
you in Chicago
me in the greatest city on earth
my half hearted attempt to apologize
for the past falls flat
you lean in and whisper
“…not to worry you are still so sexy…”
I laugh at the thought
and you flirt like a school boy
but what the hell innocence is a mind set
and I’m a widow
and you’ve been married for thirty years
always faithful – sort of
we digress and it’s all good
it’s all ok surrounded by circumstance
dismayed by the clarity of memories
recalling a kiss
the touch of your hand
and as if by osmosis
your fingers reach for mine
and a tear falls for old times sake
you smile and I can’t turn away
from the what if’s
I own where I’ve been

There is a slight shift in the wind, tide is high
a full moon is on the rise…

©2017 TrilbyYates


It’s the weekend…end of the week beginning of the week
long and short of it makes no sense beginnings or endings
they all fall into neat little boxes with a top and a bottom
a piece of cloud like fluff inside gently placed
each emotion carefully tucked in, the corners soundly folded under
the top placed firmly, with familiarity; a silk ribbon tied securely
sailors knot…loose lips sink ships
thoughts wander off to old sayings, expressions I never understood
yet, they hold their space for another moment, maybe laughter or joy
a ribbon without meaning or symbolic of any cause
a ribbon without a color coded sense of design

It’s the weekend there is live music and poetry slams
all of which seem to have lost some of their luster for me
a shinny bobble dimming as the waves crash against my feet
walking the shoreline feels like an abandonment of my physiological progression
walking the shoreline feels like I’ve jumped ship and could care less
– about the chill in the Atlantic
gray days, rain seems endless, sad thoughts and gloom push the envelope
into a the lost not found folder on some unknown postal workers desk
as if the intention was to be categorized, sorted or kept

It’s the weekend…end of the week beginning of the week

©2017 TrilbyYates


Dry winds blow from somewhere
south of the city limits
and I’m flying high above the clouds
headed west to witness
the joining of his life to hers
and my emotions are a tightrope of joy and anticipation
I shift in my seat 1st class buzz
a glass of champagne compliments of Delta
it’s a push and I don’t mind drifting off
to days when he was too small to think
about anything but color and Legos
sentimental daydreams peaceful reverie
a calming zone washes over me

Standing together his hand in hers eyes wide
golden bands words from the heart fingers entwined
kiss for a future filled with promise and pride
cherishing the moment cherishing each and every moment
a boutonnière for the groom a bouquet for the bride

A warm Austin wind blows flower petals dance in the air…

©2017 TrilbyYates

Enter Title Here

I haven’t written haven’t had words in the light of day
come together harsh light spot light maybe because its a lie or half truth
and the cosmos knows or some greater entity has a hook line and sinker
on me my insincerity it’s like a spot light a spot light harsh and unforgiving
and that little voice that whiny little sniveling voice pathetic
in its strain and stutter its insecurities choking on all that self loathing
but in the dark of night when the lights are out and darkness is a blanket
a warm secure blanket of hope and security a safety net capturing all the creativity
ransom is a time frame dawn creeping rays of sunlight throw a blinding light
on the details the nuances the little particulars that are descriptive lullabies
soothing my crippling wired brain to thought word score shut down shut out
light of day dawn breaking dawn creeping in like a stray cat that has been out all night
a stray sashaying in light of day when nothing comes together and nothing lasts forever
until the sunsets and a subtle shade is thrown like a spot light on all that was right
and all that is wrong with the security felt within the angst of dread
as the door closes openness drifts and the power of each word is skewed
for lack of a better word for lack of a better word…
what happened to that overload of poetic free fall
that throw caution to the wind
that let the good times roll
that fuck it attitude
because the truth has a power and words can’t be taken back
and revealing is a tight rope and the fall from grace is unforgiving
but who cares when the wind is at my back the wind is always at my back
night and darkness are a crutch a cloak and dagger
a falsehood for the weary
an excuse to play in the shadows
…to stay in the shadows

©2017 TrilbyYates


Hanging on by a single thread silk woven bare bones
And you ask why I don’t cry or why I sleep walk instead
Of resting dream like in my bed and all I can think about is how my hands ache
Every time I walk past a grave site with granite stone shining bright
There is nothing left to say
I’m hanging on by a single thread silk woven bare bones

There is a line
Sometimes it’s in the sand
Sometimes it’s moral and won’t be crossed
Sometimes it’s blood, family, generations
A line by any other name is still a line
Tomorrow we say goodbye
Tomorrow we confirm within ritual our final goodbyes
A bloodline family a generation
Tomorrow we say goodbye and we never ever forget
It is family
It is a bloodline
It is a generation
A single thread

©2017 TrilbyYates

One of My Stories

It was Valentines Day…I made chocolate covered strawberries
you photographed them Nikon Kodachrome color never fades
the chemo nurse asked for a signed copy she collects strawberry photos
kitchen framed hanging on the wall fav patient she said
you graciously complied signature of an artist
a future Hallmark card never to throw away
take-out delivery dinner sushi deluxe
you bought a box of hot saki for me
we dressed up as if a night out on the town were apropos
Ginger Rogers and Johnny Rotten who would have known
music floated around sweet sounds soothing
the difference between rock n roll drummers and Jazz
technique and beat drumsticks in hand tap, tap, tap
we sat in the living room funny name we laughed
Noguchi table white linens and candle light
chop sticks ginger and wasabi burning bright
a knock at the door top hat and spats
a bouquet of wildflowers left in sterile wrap
orange tiger lilies white daisies gentle spray of babies breath
babies breath shallow and sweet
we both seemed to buzz, vibrate in sync with the universe
a high from the experience and love – a well earned gift
a high from a low level oxygen intake – breathe deeply
bare necessities when so much exists between two people
…the space is clear our wealth intoxicating

– drip drip drip background noise continuous

©2017 TrilbyYates

Washes Over Me

I walked with you only to learn
what it meant to feel
sand and sea washing over me
Sand and the sea have a way of cleansing the senses
and freeing the soul
Twists and turns, knots and noose fall slack
and slumber eases its way backward;
– nothing short of insomnia
I walked with you only to learn
my footing was shallow
never on solid ground
Sand slips beneath my feet and the sea washes over me
the sea always washes over me,
and the wind sings a gut wrenching melody
that never leaves; a tune to recall
from now until eternity,
it washes over me, always washing over me
I walked with you only to learn
a lesson lived a lesson learned
and bridges walked over yet never burned
is like a wave of tranquility
and the sand slips beneath my feet
and the sea washes over me
The sea always washes over me
The sea washes over me

©2017 TrilbyYates