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

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Naturally

Nature does not come to me naturally
It does not draw me in and enchant me
Mesmerizing dancing fantasies
It does not set my inner child free
Holding the fear close – irrational push pull
The child holds it close occasionally letting it go
Nature does not entice my lioness spirit to roar
Or prompt an inquisitive desire for more
I am particular about how nature is allowed in
Uneasy to let it too close
Uneasy without making excuses
Yet I see the beauty in Nature’s way – abstract tunnel vision
Not blinded by its uncertainty or adrenaline rush
I absorb Natures gentle stimulation
I can see the reflective shimmer in a raindrop
The intricacies in a single snowflake
The connection of each petal to the flower’s core
I accept the power in a wistful wind
Aware of how fickle its mood can be
To heal and wound, give and take – unpredictability
Never underestimating the breath of the sea
I’m comfortable with its endless eastward view
Waves, sand and shell liberating – endless lacking
No boundaries or considerations
Nature does not come naturally to me

© 2016 TrilbyYates

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Deep Blue Sea

Sailing beyond
my senses
Open space
with no boundaries
Wind blows
filling sails,
leaning so far
the rails
mesh with the ocean;
there is no line
or divide…seamless
My mind
remains clear
while demons
from the past
disappear
drift off
to a distant edge
of the horizon
vast and so far far away…
With all my experiences,
and all that has yet to unfold,
knowledge continues
to free my soul
And even though
I may have little control
over the strength
and limitless energy
of the deep blue sea;
I have come to know
how to calm
the highs and lows –
the tides of my heart.
A sailors hitch
that twists like a knot
in the pit
of my stomach,
the ache in my spine
causing me to rethink…
what am I still doing here?
When all is said
and all is done,
love remains my destination.
And I will continue
to search,
sailing
around the world
port to port,
harbor to harbor;
comforted by the arms
of an endless deep blue sea…

© 2016 TrilbyYates

Looking Out To Sea

It was something
something out of a movie scene
From Here To Eternity
we were laying in the sand
tide came up rushing over us
all entangled arms and legs
finger tips tracing
a pathway to the soul
your mouth on mine
whispering words
…you are so beautiful
so beautiful…
kissing my neck
gentle hands
holding me close
eyes closed
sensations like a hot wire
and I heard a voice say
I love you
I love you…
and realized it was mine
in that moment time stopped
the tide went out
and didn’t come back in
and we were standing
looking at each other
you had such a puzzled look
on your face
a puzzled look
and I apologized
I’m sorry
I’m sorry
I didn’t mean to say that
I don’t love you
I like you
I care about you
but I don’t love you…like that
you just stood there
with a puzzled look
on your face
and I knew
it was not you I saw
it was him
and I’m sorry for that
it wasn’t you I was looking at
it was him
and the tide went out
and didn’t come back in
and I was standing there alone
looking out to sea
looking out to sea

© 2016 TrilbyYates

Inconsequential Meeting

Had a dream about you last night;
seems since we had our inconsequential meeting –
inconsequential feels so removed
and so cold
and my head hurts when I think
and I’m starting to feel too old
to be a player in the dating game
… anyway

Confirmation washes over me
like the cold waters of a great sea
confirmation washes over me

When I saw you my childhood sense
of insecurity was shaken;
sort of rattled my proverbial ego sustained cage,
and now I’m reading the same lines
over and over again
still on the same damn page –
– expecting a different ending

Confirmation washes over me
like the cold waters of a great sea
confirmation washes over me

I never know what to think
when thinking is all I have time to do
I never know what to think
when the heart beats one way
and the other is slightly out of sync
…just never know how to feel
since my inconsequential meeting with you
And now I don’t know what to think
… anyway

I had a dream about you …

© 2016 TrilbyYates

Beach Boys

Hot steamy summer day…not a cloud in the sky; brilliant blue dome of color – a slight breeze floats by on the up beat of a song dancing through the air; off in the distance sailboats lean, lean, lean stretching canvas and rails dip in the salty sea – flashback summer sweat dripping kisses…glorious sight makes my heart race.

Beach scene high tide, scent of coconut oil is like a time chaser – burst of images black and white, Kodachrome edited memories. Families, babies, teens, college kids, Gran and Pop – fill the sandy shoreline with souvenir beach towels and beach chairs; radiant red, seafaring blue and lemon yellow umbrellas adorn the landscape making up an amazing painters pallet. Aroma therapy and visual overload – in this surrounding I am thrilled to be alive!

Strategically placing myself on the fringes – a space between me and the masses. A buffer from all the chatter and one on one contact – my comfort zone just left of everything and nothing – with one foot hanging over the edge; acting as an anchor keeping me from wandering to far out in an endless sea. A beach day to listen to music – drifting away on notes and combinations of words; all stirring emotions and pushing fantasies for later creative use – deep breath in/exhale – blow. Moments of “shear poetry”.

A group of three “t’ween” boys invade my peripheral vision and my solitude. Soft images flurry past, intense energy…carrying plastic beach shovels – with definite intentions. There were no words exchanged, an innate plan was brewing and clearly understood by all participants.

As much as I tried to ignore this group of adolescent males, (they reminded me of boys from my past) it was impossible…I was captivated by the “boys club” dance – and felt privy after so many years being on the outside secretly looking in, never understanding what made them tick and now I had a clear up front view – camouflaging myself behind a pair of sunglasses instead of my naiveté .

Quickly personalities started to pop…the shy one, the leader, the funny boy – these roles seemed set in stone, not interchangeable. Each knew their character and played it uncomfortably well. Pigeon holed for a moment in time.

I sat back, shades on, ear-buds in and observed with delight!

The boys started to dig a hole in the sand, within 30 minutes it was clearly going to be a very large hole. Occasionally a group of “t’ ween” girls would slowly walk past; seemingly ignoring the boys…a little flip of their hair, arms linked and giggles…boys reacting, doing boy things – they jumped in the 4′ deep hole, threw sand at each other, swore and laughed and dug faster as if they were just injected with high levels of testosterone.

The girls circled around several times, swishing their feet into the sand, hips swaying overly exaggerated this way and that as they walked by. Flirtatious glances exchanged, occasional eye contact and then the uncontrollable bursts of blushing red covered cheeks were a dead give away. A vision of pure innocent seduction; beach boys from long ago…summer in the city. Motown playing and dancing on the sidewalks – sweet delicious memories.

Off in the distance songs from the concession stand began to play summer songs, the hit list…Heatwave, Under The Boardwalk, Girl From Ipanema, In The Summer Time…on and on drum beat, finger snapping melodies swept me away finally into a deep sleep…

© 2014 TrilbyYates

Flight

A slight movement forward
wind shifts suddenly
and
there is
a tumbling sensation
in each step
I’ve taken
your touch
was never an absolute
and as much as I knew that
going in
it’s the
coming out
that’s another story
time is not on my side
and as I wander
between my thoughts
there is a tug
at my heart
wishing one thing
could be true
that flight
wasn’t a solution
or a place of comfort
I’m running to –
here I stand
fair winds and following seas
unable to find my way
once again
and things haven’t changed
all that much
since my youth
when boys would be boys
and men will be boys too
I question the disconnect
from what is said
and what is heard
all the words
exchanged between us
nothing ever remains
very clear
so I’ll listen to sad songs
once again
wishing the nights away
cursing you for leaving me
in this place
when all that I have
are memories
of sweeter days…

© 2016 Trilby

Heat Wave

Steamy sweltering
take a deep breath
air is thick and warm…

Summer sun
cloaked in a haze
shades of pale blue
feathered sky wispy clouds
wrap around finger tips
gentle hands dripping
in the scent of coconut oil

Floating carefree muffled sounds
a mellow song serenade
carried within a slight breeze
while dancing in the streets
keeps the beat
R&B lives on…

© 2016 Trilby Yates

 

Walking On Shallow Water

Walking on shallow water
Out in a deep blue sea
Sweeping transparent views
Earth and all its brilliance
A distant shining light
For the lost and lonely
Draped in silk spun cloth
Spun the way tales are
Carefully weaved
Tight intricate knots
The High and Mighty
Swirling poignant scent
Of blessed incense
Permeating the air
Crown of Thorns
Pressing down
While judgement bleeds
Dripping from generation
To generation with no reprieve
Rosary beads in hand
Finger tips holding tight
Sensory perception
Pathway to Heaven
Rosary beads dangle religiously
Sway gently around my neck
Choke back the tears
Choke back the words
Don’t speak of doubt
Don’t ever question
All that I once believed
Words that I can recite
With eyes closed
Head bowed down
Drifting off peacefully
A holier than thou – sleep
…Ave Maria, gratia plena, Dominus tecum
Where were you Mary
When I needed you
A motherless child
Faith in the abstract
Faith in the disbelief
That all is not lost
Or forever forgotten
Walking on shallow water
Draped in silk spun cloth
All in the name
Of the abstract
Faith in the disbelief
That all is not lost
Or forever forgotten

As I drift further
and further out to sea
repeating over and over
… Ave Marie, gratia plena, Dominus tecum
Ave Marie, gratia plena, Dominus tecum

© 2015 TrilbyYates