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…
I’m not going to get over you am I?Silly question to ask, I know…but…stillThere’s a lot of time but no space between us…I linger on and on while you float around watching over meAt least I think you do, I feel you…so it must be trueWhat would you say to me today?If you can see …
Three flights up, surround sound and sunlight Views of one of the, if not, the most amazing city in the world Depends on which side of the Hudson one lands Shades pulled up and she spends several minutes A sad attempt to make them even - Angel dust floats aboutShe believe in Angels; rather than …
My very own life shifting drift off, Time capsules of sort, placed into boxes The past wrapped in paper, carefully taped With black magic marker lettering; Fragile, fine china, kitchen etc. Every move has a purpose - an intention - I recall thinking, nothing is by chance, nothing is a coincidence Good, bad or indifferent …
Keepsakes found tucked away somewhere In-between the pages of my past Held lovingly in the arms Of worn bindings and bookcases Dust flies defensively Almost as a way of protection From the invasion of my Seeking hands and eyes The reclusive nature of a "fade-away" Forgotten notes found and remembered In a twist of time …
Windowsill view of a world that has stood still for seven years Seven years and all I can do and all I can say is that the mirrored image of myself doesn't hold a candle to the image or the wisdom of Dorian Gray Self imposed isolation so many demons to slay ghosts that have …
He smiles, kicks back - relax...do you want a drink beautiful? Flattery falls from his lips, diamonds of perfection His fingers glide through his long silver hair, he's in his comfort zone He can hold his own in a crowd of young bombers Slow like a cat on the prowl he gets up stretches across the room …
Trilby Yates 