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…
We have a conversationSame old same old Yet, it never passes the test of timeMy mother won't hold my hand But she told me she would always love me...onceWords spoken dead of night dreams illuminate She comes to me in a haze of clouds A heavenly sound; flutter of angel's wingsI hesitate to remain emotion …
Summer time blues drift off as fall rattles its cageThe wind is blowing a gut punch across the sky; with the hopes of some spontaneous recognition Fourth floor apartment to the left; stereo cranked up torches everyone in ear shot...a minimum ten block radiusA memory tapping melody that drifts;lifting the air to an all encompassing …
Silence is golden, a cherished gift If looked at from the flip side I can go there sometimes; with a gentle push From those that love me Allowing me to rest, to let the fragility Of my heart to take a break Not to skip a beat or hold hand to chest; But a peaceful …
I was dreaming, sleepy comfort zone Walking with my big brother Familiar streets a memory of our time together A sensation wisps of joy of safety of family His smile beaming my pride worn like a badge of honor Beaming like a light into the future A beacon in the night guidance rough seas ahead …
Sunday morning powers out rain hits the windowpane in that way; that way that reaches deep, gut level memory lane emotional kick A familiar angst; familiar imagery blindsided mind over matter punch, a trigger, time-wind slap back crank You’re nothing more than a shadow cast across the table; a marionette of fate and foe, as …
Dry winds blow from somewhere south of the city limits and I'm flying high above the clouds headed west to witness the joining of his life to hers and my emotions are a tightrope of joy and anticipation I shift in my seat 1st class buzz a glass of champagne compliments of Delta it's a …
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 …
Warm cup of coffee hands wrapped tightly around over sized thermos skim latte with a dash of cinnamon comfort zone no way home thoughts interrupt warm and reminiscent shooting shiver from head to toe gazing amusement while black swans glide ceremoniously atop the biting cold waters Saugatuck LIS Atlantic fed riverbed elegantly withdrawn as the …
Deep breath, deep painfully deep - I inhale, count 1,2,3,4,5...5,5,5 chest aches holding more than oxygen in; exhale blowing out nothing more than possibilities for a better day, a bettter sense of wellness, a suitcase full of angst Memories are tiny clips, images wrapped within emotional set backs, images - a glimpse of things never …
Trilby Yates 