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…
Middle of the night wake up call; a gentle humWhile off in the distance a fog horn blowsSweet songs of love and longing - my soul shiftsAnticipation; the sounds of mourning doves cooing Pre-dawn a new day's potential is just an illusion Holding my imagination like a child with a short attention spanKnowing I can …
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 …
The Dead Poet rating "A" makes my heart sing And a photo is like capturing a moment in time Fireflies in a jar, blowing dandelions into the wind with a wish Hanging on like a trapeze artist - grace and daring A sliver of time, a glance, a kiss - your hand holding mineWe walk …
I reached out to the goddess White knuckling it On my knees Rosary in hand Asking for a shiftIn the tide To pull me under Cleanse me of my sins Outed by the guise Of organized religion I admit I am in love With Pope Francis What happens when faith And love collide And all …
Fraunces Tavern drinks and chatter atmosphere is a high rush of almost normal two year pandemic restrictions loosening masks on or off ID and vaxx card we share stories and laughs she said I remind her of Patti Smith my ego leaped out of my chest into the atmosphere starry Manhattan nightcell phone vibrates text …
Two steps off, four steps back; I still can't make my way beyond the fogA few steps off, a couple steps back; it's a cliff walk, a leap of faith jumpMoving forward, double back; your love has been like a Magic 8 ballSliding forward, slipping back; online foot print has a magnetic pushTwo steps your …
Oh there you are again making your grand entranceMadame X waltzing in like an Olympic skater on ice - glideOr maybe this time my own personal serial killer Disguised as stability; slashing anything that brings me to that moment - yet fleeting - of knowing the coast is clear When I can remove the layers …
Old man sits with his back to the wallA clear view of his surroundings; doors, windows There is nothing left up to chance not even ghosts from his pastBlack crow's cage hangs from a hook in the ceilingAnd when the wind whistles it sends a chill across the marsh One doesn't have to wonder or …
I took a ride blood red coat with slick black racing stripes Oh dear MC you have loved me unconditionallyMoon roof open so I can breathe so I can feel the wind I can hear the tide shifting gears ocean wide - grindCrystal-like there are no twin snow flakes They fall with a unique tempo …
Trilby Yates 