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…
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 …
Woke up, partial light seeps into dreamscapes and nightmares somewhere out there a thought flies across a cyber sky - no color faux stars shine bright land on the floor next to discarded clothing from the night before a chill in the air and semi-frost on the window-pane child writes I love you finger tip …
There is something about the early morning light the way is bounces and throws patterns lacy images shadowy dancing lovers reminders of times and moments held so dear my chest aches held without reason or clarity purity of the senses and every song that ever mattered in my adolescence playing on an auto rewind flip …
The first line is the most difficult the most important pen to paper expression paramount to first impression succession of intent my perspective is self inflicted is self infected self rejected and I know all to well I'm not blaming you or me the high or low tides at sea that change at different times …
Ten second spin off you still can't recall my name and if I blink you would fade away only the scent of yesterday remains you don't hold a candle to him my Angel in the night Blue Moon Belgian style wheat ale is a cheap and much welcomed buzz words from a stranger send a …
Cold winter days circle around in a flurry snowflakes fall gently solitude in daydreams and sweet whispered words make me blush at the thought of what could be if only to let go... I wonder if we are a good fit or if when time tells its tall tale an unedited version of truth - …
Standing on the sidewalk a small man with a cigar leering past a puff of smoke clouds camouflage his true intentions conveyor belt rolls me in to a land of the unknown no cart just a red basket in hand and the lights glare chasing the shadows clarity is a check out counter and the …
Drifting off left, maybe south of the last stop on any given day when all that reaches the deepest moments, the most profound statements or thoughts slip so easily from my grasp and when I let the light in the last bit of anticipation, I float alone Time shifts and the sand slips from my …
There is a sense of dread lingering deep dark longing wrapped tightly suffocating to the point of paralysis I do not pause or hesitate Fear is not a driving force Narcissistic identity bender, insanity root of inspiration, and subconscious driving force ...maybe I have my words, my pen and paper; sword of sorts And when …
Trilby Yates 