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…
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 …
I once knew a man that held my hand - from afar He told me we don't bounce the way we used to As I'm laying on the floor, those words I am pondering My mind wanders; Man on Wire, Petit has my utmost respect ©2022 TrilbyYates
What will it take to push past the moment where all my thoughts are tangled and memories, images keep weaving between tears and anger? there is no rational; truth or lies that can change the outcome the place I've landed is foreign to me uncomfortable, unprotected and roaming in the wilderness of ambivalence and uncertainty …
Evening falls, surround sound lull with the slightest hiss and rattle Background ambience for the weak; the feeble and absent minded The full wolf moon is on the rise A soothing vibe transports me into a trance-like lovely sleep Somewhere in the upper level; reminiscent of a sky in a da Vinci painting Glorious and …
Snow falls covering the river and for a moment as hours pass endless imagery for the weary a respite a touch of awe and delight the beauty reaches deep into my chest encompassing it a gentle massage to the heart keeping the beat rhythm-atic so not to grow cold - from the inside out the …
He writes about birds flying over the marsh looking for prey A broad wing hawk soaring near the tiny airport that sits high in the middle of the island It is a divine messenger, you are protected Northern sea fowl diving in chilled waves Seals resting on rocks; a pure sense of nature, God and …
Deep breath in; now, blow, blow, blow Reluctance sits uncomfortably in the middle of my chest my heart beat skips and races like a petulant child and each day moves me one day further from the source of my discomfort, lack of intuition, sense of betrayal and loss I ponder less and less what was …
Trilby Yates 