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 …
Black and white Polaroid Cracked and yellowed hazy soft Almost saintly images float A past that reflects tunnel vision Hells gate only hope for salvation Only hope for a warm way out A stepping off cutting it short train track Silver bullet high dive from New York’s most revered Deep and dark the pain of …
Jump from the train grabbing hold of a high wire Harry Houdini greatest one man act... Nothing swings like the sound coming from an old horn player - sweet baby lullaby the cradle will certainly fall! When my heart burns and the thrill of flying above the natural wisdom of women better than I perched …
A fine line between what is said and what is meant when passion hides behind well wishes and glances on the other side of friendship and no one knows better than Madame Bovary if love will come or love will go the extra mile or fade off into a slow burn sun rises and sets …
There are few places I can go a few places that don't throw me off track circle back and start again - Waking up to a new day surviving another day a fresh start - Short term memory lapse starting all over again all over again Rat in a golden cage spinning spokes jagged edges …
Those days of laughter, shared smiles, a nod of knowing... they aren't over yet are they?Inquisitive questions innocently posed in a way that only the high and mighty could possibly answer... And when the heart feels even the slightest bit of anticipation - like a dove taking flight ...peaceful wings span, joy and exhilaration occur …
Trilby Yates 