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 walk in the tall grass that grows on the ocean's edge To feel Feel more connectedEach step brings me closer to the source of my hearts own beat As the grass glides between my fingers it's as if the heavens above are opening up to let me in with all my imperfections all my …
One in the sameUniquely similarUncomfortably familiarMoving full circleLike it or notIt is what it isWho's whoAnd what's whatNarcissistic dialogueOne of a kindFeedback loops aroundChoking someFreeing othersFind your niche babyHip Hop BobbysoxerBohemianBeat GenerationHobo BansheeHippieHipsterGen X Y Z AlphaShacking upHanging outFree loveFriends with benefitsFriends of friendsAcquaintanceStrangersOne night standHit and runBlind dateHooking up What the fuckAll I know …
Red flowers in a vase; my words written on the wall Late night rendezvous, misunderstoodLove floats above the scent of sage and lavender Candles burn; passion is a helium balloonWhen the message is as intriguing as a note in a bottle Floating, following only the high tidesHat in hand; ....anticipation - an aphrodisiac. © 2022 …
Today I release the shadow of my vulnerabilities;and as I stand here amidst the wreckage I feel the ground shaking, trembling and I hear the bones of my soul rattle - a sacred sound to a sinners earBeneath my feet deep within the earths surface as if the fault lines have been cracked wide open …
Men march, their torches burn in the night their women stand street side weeping; not for fear, but emotions emotions so powerful they overflow tear stained faces passion and love You put another log on the fire and I am thankful that you have a turn of the century fireplace in the Big Apple west …
Yes, I let you hold my hand and I held yours... - acknowledging a perfect fit Yes, I let you look into my eyes I curiously looked into yours... - I didn't blink or turn away letting you past the walls of protection Yes, I let you pull me close to you; wrap your arms …
Hey...you...pssst...floating Lightly from high above The cement masses Whistles and cat calls Reminiscent of a 50's B flick With blonde bombshells And well manicured mustaches That get twisted when the mood shifts From scene to scene Little girl with grown up shoes Struts her stuff While taking another puff Long thin 100s imported Via her …
If I could I would... Sell everything I own Close all my bank accounts Never pay taxes that would fund another war Let my hair grow long and wear it in dread locks Sleep on the beach under a sky filled with stars Spend endless hours walking the shoreline collecting sea glass and shells Once …
Slipping off pseudo Dr. Freud's leather couch $250 an hour to soothe my fevered brow - ease a weary torn soul from thoughts and memories demons haunting past that push the limits crowding the 3rd eye - blind to a convoluted way of life... nothing travels in a straight line moving again and again as the moon swings around the the earth such a grandiose plan …
Trilby Yates 