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…
I continue to stand between a breakwater and a shallow grave all the while off in the distanceI can hear with clarity; the call of an untamable and vast oceangentle hands holding sand and sea reach;holding space for my most joyful dreams I have danced on a narrow sandbar; built by drifting seashells and lost …
Salt water washes over me The first swim in the Atlantic Feels like god reaching into my soul Separating it from my egoLetting go of the discomfort - deep breath My heart involuntarily skips a beat Stones thrown across a low tide poolThe ripples vibrate within each bounceFull of passion and angst - distant shores …
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 …
When the world is spinning out of control and there is no direction - up or down All I want to do is jump from here to there, never to return to this place of malice But, the background sound of life's merry-go-round drowns out and mutes the roar that rumbles just beneath the skin's …
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 …
Baby blue sky, clear with wisps of feathery clouds The temperature has dropped like a stone; As the ribcage bends to accommodate the chill in the air It runs up the spine reminiscent of the touch Cold hands - a lovers deception It's not just the weather It's a state of mind When the heart …
Zip ties, dead bolt locked up tight Cardboard boxes, wrapping paper and tape Piles of questions and lost hopes - reflection, reflection Hindsight is a pathway to If only, what if I should have, could have, Why didn't I? Am I a reluctant recipient? Widow Of The Harbor - forever more? Walking alone because time …
Hey...you...pssst...floating Lightly from high above The cement masses Whistles and cat calls Reminiscent of a 50's B flick With blonde bombshells And well manicured mustaches That get twisted when the mood shifts From scene to scene Little girl with grown up shoes Struts her stuff While taking another puff Long thin 100s imported Via her …
It's just a round-about way of saying nothing with meaning ...or true intent vibrate In the distance I can hear the song There is a dullness in the roar, and when the dust is kicked up and no one settles in, bullets will be a blazing - glory It really won't matter what pocket you …
Trilby Yates 