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…
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 