Recollection torn side swipe that first invasion that first intrusion 6 maybe 7 a blur a clean break not a splintered snap or scrape leaving flesh or bone behind a clean clear break a nothingness a child erased innocence obliterated thin air smoke rising high dissipates disappears evaporates the form remains hollowed out - inside …
Category: Perceptions
Rewind
Cloth folds perfection in the creases piled high anxiety I breathe in - deep exhaling the pain out that chokes so much of what remains running through my veins even when I’m semi-comatose to the daily grind and flowers are tossed in the trash day two wilt don’t worry there will always be more tomorrow …
Rambling-s
A breeze from the north pushes a sense of freedom, blowing smoke vapor - yet, not sure why; it's a bounce back reflective thing I guess; reminiscent of a conflict, a non declared war taking its toll, the body count continued to rise even after it’s proclaimed ending back then, during those days of peace, love and LSD …
Leaning Into the Wind
Standing with arms out-stretched leaning into the wind my footing slips, eyes closed - images cascade just like a waterfall in slow motion, color burst; shades of blue one, two, three, four tumbling, tumbling; how can I ignore all that has passed from dirt to dust tossed into the air nothing more, nothing more than …
Sisterhood
You might call me denigrating names Names, like sticks and stones Could break my bones Yet never truly touch me Names you would not call Your mother, sister, wife or daughter Or maybe, just maybe you would You could try to hold me back ...or attempt to hold me down And if by some cosmic …
Wooden Floor
Sunday morning powers out rain hits the windowpane in that way; that way that reaches deep, gut level memory lane emotional kick A familiar angst; familiar imagery blindsided mind over matter punch, a trigger, time-wind slap back crank You’re nothing more than a shadow cast across the table; a marionette of fate and foe, as …
Pull the Trigger
Yea, I can't quite shake the dreams that haunt me those images that play out slowly drag on black and white as if from another time another sliver between now and then a wedge between the past and the present moving forward is a monumental task and I'm spent man worn to the bone sitting …
Weekend
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 …
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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 …
Trilby Yates 