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…
What happens when time slips and echos turn into soft murmurs that you don’t recognize any longer but there is something familiar in the wind the way it skims gently across your cheeks tussles your hair playful what happens when you are humming a tune but can’t remember the words or the name of the song but you know you always loved it what …
A cool winter breezeblows byA one hit wonderthat plays over and overWith the familiarityof a gentle smileGreetings at the doorwelcome home sweet oneSome say boredomsets in with time And the eye wandersbut I remain in aweOf the next daysame old sunriseSame old sunsetred sky at nightSailors delightred sky in the morningSailors take warning Gentle touch, sweet …
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 …
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 …
I listen compassionately to young poets; exposing their soul with naïveté unobstructed passion struggling to keep their words and truth pure, clear, coherent; and I think to myself, silent within my own insecurities, my own private courtroom - judge and jury, these are the facts, objection, overruled...I recall my own journey; my own learning curve. …
Trilby Yates 