My words are a direct reflection of what is being played out in my mind. For artistic purpose and dramatic effect I have duct-tapped the "edit" button…
Oh there you are again making your grand entranceMadame X waltzing in like an Olympic skater on ice - glideOr maybe this time my own personal serial killer Disguised as stability; slashing anything that brings me to that moment - yet fleeting - of knowing the coast is clear When I can remove the layers …
Spent the night gazing at the stars with the city sky outlining everything naked and in disguise I drifted off to sleep just as my ghosts are coming to call answering few questions and leaving me with more All the nuances of someone that never bleeds out and praying is for the delusional I hold …
Tis the season, yes, tis the seasonfor joy, strength, purity of heart, purity of faithunity in family, friends old and newsharing and giving unconditional love...yet there is a distance in the feelof the Christmas songs- at least for mea detached sense of how blessedwe are all supposed to bewhen the world is explodingwalls going up, …
We have a conversationSame old same old Yet, it never passes the test of timeMy mother won't hold my hand But she told me she would always love me...onceWords spoken dead of night dreams illuminate She comes to me in a haze of clouds A heavenly sound; flutter of angel's wingsI hesitate to remain emotion …
"I hear the world as it's meant to be; I hear the clouds moving in the sky..." ShetlandNon-fiction; documentary of slit writs and heart stringsA memoir; vignettes Kodachrome momentsBlack and white sepia time stamped flip book Auto-biography - intrigue to feed the lost curiosity of a bored soulLife has taken me to the oceans Flying …
Clouds billowing, flowing about like sheets blowing in the wind Backyard clothesline posts lean against an aging Mother NatureSails on a boat filling up to come about, tacking from east to westAnd looking up into the sky like a child seeing images of love, laughter, imaginary animals and castles in the sky;rather than the evils …
Slightest turn of the other cheekone side acknowledges the otherin the midst of tragedyAnd as we parade into a house of worshipwearing our Sunday best,sirens blare in the distanceA police presence is feltand it is comforting at timesDifferent from the tender touchof a lovers hand leading the wayto a safer place of ease,a safer place …
Ode to the liar and thief Who crept about In the dark of night With trembling hands For fear he might Yet be discovered? Filling his pockets Lined with lies Lined with intent Like a vampire of old Feeding on the blood Unrequited love While truth his sunlight - his kryptonite Ode to the liar …
Fair winds following seas shouted from the deck and I do another lap around the proverbial widows walk Although these days it isn't so much a part of the grieving process as it is a reflection of my own personal ups and downs ...and it is a safe place to burn Time has no sense …
Trilby Yates 