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…
the air around the soundsweet melody carried away gentle hands, the heart held is an achea memory bend - slant notes played with tender intentthat move the soul...upward emotions rise and feelings flowfrom here to there a reflective tap… fingers slide instinctively across stingsplaying the heart’s song silence in the unspoken perfection is an echo …
Another unnecessary App another dollar drops into the billionaire abyss my rational is a lack of sleep too many nightmares love luster screw-ball mistakesand even though I can give advice all holy and righteous my ability to heed my own words is zero to less thanso winner or loser lover or friendfalling between the cracks …
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 …
Friday night, winter, pandemic, quarantine; One year anniversary a month away Candle light and music humming - somewhere out there sweetness Floating in the warmth of the moment Reaching across the table you brush my hair Away from my face with care and ease You hold my heart in your hands gently A tender touch …
I walk the streets where you used to live; the city you thrived in The city you fell in love with; the city that set you free while at the same time crippling you - taking away any sense of coherency But, you, you were alright, you were a shining star; you were on fire …
What remains between you and me does not reach the heart Lo que queda entre tú y yo no le alcanza al corazón And your memory sounds from my chest Y desde mi pecho suena tu recuerdo All that was of the two are echoes of love Todo lo que fue de los dos son …
Deep sleep dreams slip from an image to a place Lost in time travel, yet it all makes sense Moment to moment, breath to breathless, deepest solitude Once I climbed a mountain high, stood at the summit Reached up, stretched finger tips and grabbed the sun The only burn I felt was my ego as …
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 …
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) …
Trilby Yates 