Drum Beat on the Table

Walking the shoreline winter winds toss sea foam into the air –
(Yes I digress) a familiar tag line used so often,
the past collides with the present –
life and all of its ups and downs and glory.
Glory, its intentions; seriously not lost on me.
…and as if on autopilot (yet another cliché) I close my eyes –
in a dream they turn from brown to blue
a reflection in the rear view mirror
while driving the New England coastline;
I don’t look away – but admittedly puzzled and charmed.

Crackling emotions have a grip on me
touching my core twisted knots
another hand to the heart moment,
not a gentle tug but more an aching angst;
what can I say as I attempt to medicate the sensation away.

Love blends into the distance,
the horizon always remains the same
like the dreams that never leave me –
like the gentle strum of a guitar
or tapping fingers a drum beat on the table…my chest vibrates.

A bouquet of lavender is left in the door’s lock;
a new vision from the rear view mirror – stop and fade a vivid memory
Recalling a scent that surrounded linen and lace
and while time stands still for no one not even the driver of ones own fate
its alter ego can hold a tight grip – the hands on the clock remain the same
tick toc tick toc timeless without reluctance or pause
I reach a point of almost getting close but not quite there…
The pieces fall with perfection into place and the dreams continue…

©2018 TrilbyYates


Geographically Undesirable

The rain is falling
wind is singing songs
beyond the dunes
Dark clouds form overhead
and the waves have
kicked up a notch;
perfect back drop
for a romantic at heart
pinned with dedication
to my worn out sleeve
I walk barefoot in the tide
emotion and passion
rush in pulling at my vulnerabilities
But don’t get me wrong
I’m not complaining,
or ready to bag the ideology
Naivete pure and innocent
somewhere out there
beyond the horizon,
beyond the geographically
undesirable tag –
Burning sage
and lighting candles
dancing under a full moon
Whispers vibrate hidden stories;
secrets shared but never told
And I continue blind faith
and wounded glory
not for the weary or fainthearted,
that somewhere out there
value isn’t measured in miles
and sparks will fly outside the radius
imaginary lines drawn in the sand
Somewhere out there
beyond the horizon,
beyond the geographically
undesirable tag –
© 2016 TrilbyYates


Flickering flash light
sparkling florescent glitter
weaving shadowy reflections
and sounds vibrating  –

Imagine: tiny poetic dancers
movements fluttering on stucco walls
texture rubs the senses with twirling
drips of a grand illusion
fan fare and flags waving…
with no peaceful conclusion –

Yet the heart continues to pose
question after question
without clarity – the illusive peace of mind
the illusive state of being
in alignment with ones Self – or another-s…Self

The solidarity of peace and being
continually alludes someone like me
with fear of the faithless cautionary guide
skipping stones across a vast ocean
from here to there a safe haven … is too far to see

Reflection is an action
examining all the pages
our own personal story book –
like pop up characters
they willingly unfold
page one, two so on…and on and on
we reluctantly savor a perspective look…
While some images are  to difficult to hold
or look squarely head on…eyes close

Drawing on the powers that be
drawing on some ancestral Euro strength
a Pandora’s box within you and me
drawing on rumored reputation
east coast tough guy fact
lands solidly scuffed knees
hands of a beggar …fingers entwined Gods final act

Pulling images and memories
are bricks in the foundation
the foundation of ones own being
Self…posing the questions,
holding the answers
revealing more
always concealing less
casting light into the darkness
un-ringing the proverbial bell
changing the lines drawn in the sand
a distant voice
speaking clearly
decoded words of knowledge
a fine line between fate
and freedom of choice

…freedom of choice

© 2016 TrilbyYates


Dance Away My Fears

The past seeps into some kind
of abstract perspective
My own different from yours – I am sure
My spin, my angle from where I sleep
never falls short of illusive
Yours, off in the distant fog – sails full
wind blows coast to coast,
shore to shore drop off
You catch sea foam in you hands
and playfully toss it into the air
I wonder if you will
remain so beautiful – in the afterlife
Tear stained face, eyes covered in shades
– to keep out the light
Death comes in with a brute force;
an awakening of sorts – I suppose
It’s the alarm clock of life,
ticking by waking us up to another day;
while visuals flash between
the mind and daydreams
of a past that needs to be
– reckoned with
And all we have is where we stand
right here and in the now
Feet planted firmly in the sand
forever changing
foot prints slip away
beyond the reef
and into the deep blue sea
The past has a hold of my heart
and I can’t seem to set it free
Yesterday is incomplete…so sublime
and if I could do one more thing
If I could go back in time
…step out and rewind
It would be to linger
with you standing in the waves
I would tell you
all the things you
ever wanted to know
Say all the things
you needed me to say
…if I had just one more day
What if I held out my hand
and you never let go
Would the Angels come
between us and tare us apart
So I will try not to cry
for you sweet darlin
I’ll try not to shed another tear
and I promise to walk along the shoreline
and dance away all my fears
…dance away my fears

©2015 TrilbyYates