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…
Where do I go when my feet Gently touch down; ocean boundSuch a long way from homeThe heart is just a tag along,A sacred diversion; Distraction - once an albatross...I am still finding my way Vein to vein slight of hand, Magic tricks and treatsFeed the beast, but never look awayFlamingo Dancers seductively sway; Castanets …
Engulfed in images and memories;times we shared - and there were so manyYears of our hit and miss love affair; joy, tears, love and passion - confusion...And I did love you - maybe I still do on some empirical planeSummer lovers east coast sand and sea,with streets of Paris as a backdrop;always lingering hovering above …
A rainy Sunday I weave and dance slip between time and space morphing into little snippets moments of joy and love and with daily meditation the clarity that forms makes it possible to reach out and touch the emotions the purity of promise and desire when love and passion connect you draw a detailed map …
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 …
Twilight lasts until the sunrise chases it away A magical part of a new day dawning A continuous repetitive cycle pushing me forward The monotony of it doesn't bore me, nor a life long love Hell bent or chasing angels, I float reluctantly Wind chimes are still; even in the midst of a storm Dream-catchers …
...if i could i would take a train metro north, GCS grab a cab 14th w39th street ferry terminal step on board - 2nd stop hobo call lyft, palisades ave kiss the 1st boy that opens the door kiss the 2nd boy sitting on the steps i'd never forget you, but my memories wouldn't be …
Summer sanctuary quarantined haven, without any sense of what day of the week it is And just as everything begins to blur; one day, occasionally playfully, running into the next, a shift in the cosmos sets my thoughts into a fragmented stream of color - a heavenly spiral upward There's a history, a commonality; cyber-space …
Time cruises around like a hotshot in a sports car Top down, wind blowing; head shaking moments Fingers tapping the steering wheel to a song not yet written Unburdened freedom is better than a first kiss; well, almost Or that last look waving goodbye summers end drift Time is an orphan, belonging to no one; …
Tonight I sleep in a Xanax induced slumber paper gun tucked under my pillow hands tactically placed meditating rosary beads smooth and worn from years of deep sleep prayers never to see the light of day or have the privilege to be heard amongst saints or sinners I land gently with neither while my finger …
Trilby Yates 