Love Knots

Is it ever just the way the light falls
on the curves of your face
like the waters of the Niagara
– breath taking…takes my breath
or is it the angles of your cheeks
highlighting an ancient place
sacred knowledge inherent lines
a road map introspective of your fathers eyes
and a mouth that speak volumes – whispers, I love you
without uttering a single syllable?

Silence is a profound aphrodisiac
if not a holy experience as a catholic genuflects
on bended knee hand to chest tap tap
that only the pure of heart, soul, thought
have the openness to experience, absorb – deepest breath in
and hold onto it…I know this to be true
As holy water drips from finger tips

And if my “true” is universal
And I believe it to be
And a kiss is a captured moment
Held gingerly between us held like a mirror
Reflective bounce back and forth to and fro swing
Is it a mere possibility or plausible excuse
That what ever else is shared
Eternity is nothing more; ever more, ever more
Than an outdated expression word drop fracture
And a night will always turn into a day
And your hand will reach in touch my heart
Each note passionately played sweetest strum
…of your guitar drift and sway
String snap love will set the pace
Dancing tangled up love knots that binds us…

©2018 TrilbyYates

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Drum Beat on the Table

Walking the shoreline winter winds toss sea foam into the air –
(Yes I digress) a familiar tag line used so often,
the past collides with the present –
life and all of its ups and downs and glory.
Glory, its intentions; seriously not lost on me.
…and as if on autopilot (yet another cliché) I close my eyes –
in a dream they turn from brown to blue
a reflection in the rear view mirror
while driving the New England coastline;
I don’t look away – but admittedly puzzled and charmed.

Crackling emotions have a grip on me
touching my core twisted knots
another hand to the heart moment,
not a gentle tug but more an aching angst;
what can I say as I attempt to medicate the sensation away.

Love blends into the distance,
the horizon always remains the same
like the dreams that never leave me –
like the gentle strum of a guitar
or tapping fingers a drum beat on the table…my chest vibrates.

A bouquet of lavender is left in the door’s lock;
a new vision from the rear view mirror – stop and fade a vivid memory
Recalling a scent that surrounded linen and lace
and while time stands still for no one not even the driver of ones own fate
its alter ego can hold a tight grip – the hands on the clock remain the same
tick toc tick toc timeless without reluctance or pause
I reach a point of almost getting close but not quite there…
The pieces fall with perfection into place and the dreams continue…

©2018 TrilbyYates

Heart and Heart

Eyes close take a deep breath
deep breath through the nose slow inhale
never letting go never letting go
filling the lungs filling the emptiness
in hallowed walls muted color soaked sanitized
lack of smell
lack of individuality
lack of who I am
color soaked sanitized

Form A form B circle one cross out one two
all the others the others that don’t apply
what does apply when the chest rises and doesn’t fall
what applies when you are shuffled in different directions
more questions more questions more questions
answers come to slow answers drift into the abyss
or they never come at all they hang in mind air
eyes close and I ask the cosmos I ask the goddess
will I ever see you again
will I ever feel you again
I drift away deep out of body drift and dreams

A nonsensical arbitrary paper trail
the imperial order of a healthcare hierarchy
that moves in white lab coats and clip boards
that holds an oath to do no harm to do no harm
I drift in and out now and then lights flash I drift
I drift away deep out of body drift and dreams

My hand on your chest your hand on mine heart beats
my love my love I hold your gentle heart in memories deep
I count each beat I drift out of body drift and dreams
you reach inside my chest my heart in your hands
you count each beat you whisper as I drift
you whisper my name you hold my heart
it’s not my time you let go I drift out of body
dream twist you let go another time love another time…

©2017 TrilbyYates

Pull the Trigger

Yea, I can’t quite shake the dreams that haunt me
those images that play out slowly drag on
black and white as if from another time
another sliver between now and then
a wedge between the past and the present
moving forward is a monumental task
and I’m spent man worn to the bone
sitting at a bar lifting a shot bartender’s special poison
like a gun to my head a little voice is whispering
pull the trigger
pull the trigger
but instead I wipe the sweat from my brow
hesitantly thankful for the distraction this time
it’s too warm in here the fan is stuck in repeat mode circulating a stale breeze and thoughts that don’t drift
hover like a helium balloon without the party high
they remain hyper focused details small minute
details – smell, senses, hot, cold, wet, dry, etc, etc…
old song mist the street I used to live on, lived on
searching for salvation self forgiveness God
and failing continually failing
shuffle buzzed stepping down a boardwalk
roaming around pinball wizard arcade
lights flash and maybe just maybe
I can call this hole in the wall, home.

©2017 TrilbyYates

Berklee Story

A moment a shuffle throw one back
gently put that baby down
every musician has a Berklee story
none as poignant as mine
and you spin storytelling to a new high
I can’t recall the last time I laughed so hard
the last time I laughed…the last time

Memory lane dims and time fades
agony adds humor to anecdotal flamboyance
yes color sound sit back close your eyes
it’s all in the details not weighed down by accuracy
arbitrary facts and truth stretches
morphing into a piece of history – unlike yours and mine
hard times weave in and out of love hope
and death spirals 180 degrees slam on the breaks spin out

Back to my story mine not yours
you had your turn as the door opened
the sun hit your face you pulled your shades down
covering the clarity in your eyes and walked
kicking up some dust as a smoke screen
to what you were leaving behind…

Guitar in hand notes float nerves are razor sharp
slice a vein left wrist I can play that tune
six string benders sit high imperial wizards
academia brain teasers lost faith
when the gigs were few and far between
ivy halls Berklee stories credence to their talents
play three songs comfort zone lost in a jazz piece
too many bars long gone the acrobat
the riff moves on a fine wire tear drop
perfection to the bleeding hearts
unplug sit back and listen as vibrations continue to hum
lingering in the air paying its dues to the faithful
and words drop like petals from a lovers bouquet
clearing his throat he comments on three notes
that sound reminiscent of another day
and the great influencers carry no weight
in the grand audition halls of Berklee

©2017 TrilbyYates

Black Balloon

I fill my room with black balloons
helium high keeps me up at night
but that’s the least of my worries
and I have few in comparison
to years ago when I dreaded
the rise of the sun…or its setting

The clouds hang low every now and then
And off in the distance there is a haze
that can’t or won’t burn off for days and days
My personal prison wistfully floating
…and self-imposed
Familiar or not – it’s just my way
…reluctantly, I suppose
and I’m not sure how I ended black balloons shadows blended

The days slip by; the weekends turn around so fast
its remnants never leave they always stay
and wont resolve themselves until it’s far too late
so I continue to sleep walk night into day
I never see the sun set on the horizon anymore
because I can’t find the time to sit…or wait

Dreams fall short when purpose and angst
have met their match twisted ribbons I do adore
black balloons begin to fall leaving nothing
but latex shadows on the floor

Point of contention I do recall
this was never about you at all
This was never about you
and the dragons that you have slain
or the demons that sleep comfortably in my bed
and childhood pranksters do remain
…and black balloons shimmer in the night
drifting gently sweet-one as they dance with delight

©2017 TrilbyYates

Time Line Unwind

Late night street lights buzz and flicker
almost a bit too much of a slow beat drag
slip your hand into mine and lets walk along the river
Brooklyn Bridge backdrop illuminating
and I can’t see past the halo around your head

All that glitters isn’t gold
and baby don’t I know it to be true
but only time will tell if a dull shine suits me
kind of the way I think you do
and if a wish and a prayer can carry the day
I’d be on my knees thinking about a hell of a lot more
than the color of your eyes as rosary beads slide
across the planks of this old wood floor

Yes it’s been a long time coming
and I’m not even sure I’m on the right path
because maybe I’ve waited too long
to climb down from the widows walk
for lack of interest when all I wanted
was less and nothing more

“And now I need a break man; a step back
loosen the slack, let the hands of the clock…
tick took tick tick, set me free
time line unwind…”

©2017 TrilbyYates

Vodka Tonic

Ice cubes in a glass
Tito’s poured slowly
tonic two fingers from the top
slice of lime
juice rubbed around the rim
walk outside feel the ocean breeze
and drift away
we sit across a small table
from one another
candle light spins time
into a void
you look at me eyes still sky blue
and brilliant
I can’t help but wonder
how time flies
when life and love took us
in different directions
not an excuse a simple fact
you in Chicago
me in the greatest city on earth
my half hearted attempt to apologize
for the past falls flat
you lean in and whisper
“…not to worry you are still so sexy…”
I laugh at the thought
and you flirt like a school boy
but what the hell innocence is a mind set
and I’m a widow
and you’ve been married for thirty years
always faithful – sort of
we digress and it’s all good
it’s all ok surrounded by circumstance
dismayed by the clarity of memories
recalling a kiss
the touch of your hand
and as if by osmosis
your fingers reach for mine
and a tear falls for old times sake
you smile and I can’t turn away
from the what if’s
I own where I’ve been

There is a slight shift in the wind, tide is high
a full moon is on the rise…

©2017 TrilbyYates

Austin

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 push and I don’t mind drifting off
to days when he was too small to think
about anything but color and Legos
sentimental daydreams peaceful reverie
a calming zone washes over me

Standing together his hand in hers eyes wide
golden bands words from the heart fingers entwined
kiss for a future filled with promise and pride
cherishing the moment cherishing each and every moment
a boutonnière for the groom a bouquet for the bride

A warm Austin wind blows flower petals dance in the air…

©2017 TrilbyYates