I Am OK

Words in print 
words shouted 
from the left 
and right 
fearful 
we are falling in love 
with our own rectitude 
fearful 
we walk a fine line 
of  righteousness 
and never acknowledge 
the lapse of judgement 
or even the possibility
that we haven't got a real grasp 
on what is slipping 
between our fingers 
the experience 
the feeling of dread 
or grief 
the feeling 
that we don't 
have control 
that society is 
a loose cannon 
being set up 
and fired off 
by warriors 
from a different time 
a different mind-set 
a mentality driven 
by half daft demons 
that will set 
the world a blaze 
because they don't know 
anything else 
fear of the unknown 
fear of what they know 
they don't know 
and persecute beliefs 
that don't bend 
at their will 
or won't acknowledge 
the legitimacy 
of anger 
and rage 
the PC terms 
being thrown around 
like some deflated football 
regulation zero
high strung 
tempter tantrums 
at the end of the day 
it is what it is 
sugar coated 
dressed up or down 
educated or illiterate 
the common thread 
is the hate 
that is spread 
with a few choice 
words
you can call me 
dago, 
nigger, 
jew, 
spic, 
dahati, 
headbangers, 
faggot...etc
but the real truth is 
I am OK with who I am...I pose the question...are you?

© 2015 TrilbyYates 

The Ugly Truth My Beauty

Slightest turn of the other cheek
one side acknowledges the other
in the midst of tragedy
And as we parade into a house of worship
wearing our Sunday best,
sirens blare in the distance
A police presence is felt
and it is comforting at times
Different from the tender touch 
of a lovers hand leading the way 
to a safer place of ease,
a safer place to breathe
Yet protection of faith and pride
have become the newest 
of our human natural instinct;
autopilot kicking in as if innate
The strong protect
The weak are humbled
...and the Ugly Truth My Beauty is;
even those wearing a crown
embodiment of a hierarchy,
or those in a position of power
carry a gun protective shield,
can have a poisonous lethal bite
And as we submit to all we hold 
with the highest of regard,
all the traditions passed 
from one generation to the next
do not always stand the test of a truthful time
The flag can fly high fluttering in a summer's breeze,
and placating words may gently fall 
from the lips of bigots and racists in disguise
without questionable intent
The local media will snap the money shot;
front page news and sales begin to rise
But, in the shadows waiting patiently
for the show to come to a close,
a slow ride down a dirt road,
no stars and no stripes,
no sense of humility or praise,
the seeds of hatred will continue to grow...

© 2015 TrilbyYates 

Dance Away My Fears

The past seeps into some kind 
of abstract perspective 
My own different from yours - I am sure 
My spin, my angle from where I sleep
never falls short of illusive 
Yours, off in the distant fog - sails full
wind blows coast to coast, 
shore to shore drop off
You catch sea foam in you hands 
and playfully toss it into the air 
I wonder if you will 
remain so beautiful - in the afterlife
Tear stained face, eyes covered in shades  
- to keep out the light
Death comes in with a brute force; 
an awakening of sorts - I suppose
It's the alarm clock of life, 
ticking by waking us up to another day; 
while visuals flash between 
the mind and daydreams 
of a past that needs to be 
- reckoned with
And all we have is where we stand 
right here and in the now
Feet planted firmly in the sand 
forever changing 
foot prints slip away
beyond the reef 
and into the deep blue sea
The past has a hold of my heart 
and I can't seem to set it free 
Yesterday is incomplete...so sublime
and if I could do one more thing
If I could go back in time
...step out and rewind 
It would be to linger 
with you standing in the waves 
I would tell you 
all the things you 
ever wanted to know
Say all the things 
you needed me to say
…if I had just one more day 
What if I held out my hand 
and you never let go 
Would the Angels come 
between us and tare us apart
So I will try not to cry 
for you sweet darlin 
I'll try not to shed another tear 
and I promise to walk along the shoreline 
and dance away all my fears 
...dance away my fears 


© 2015 TrilbyYates

Cried A Little

He said he knew
and he finally understood 
it was as if a light bulb 
went off
a flash of knowledge 
and he cried just a little 
from the sudden escape 
of air that surrounded him 
he closed his eyes 
and cried just a little 
when the knowledge 
poured into him
...because he knew 
he would never
except 
being a black man 
in America 
if it meant 
he would never 
be number one 
and as they tried 
to rise above him
cuffed his hands 
behind his back 
his defenses went up 
and his guard 
went down 
- and he cried 
just a little 
as they pushed his face 
into the ground 
but he knew 
and he finally understood
it was as if a light bulb 
went off
a flash of knowledge 
- and he cried 
just a little 
as he raised 
his head
eyes wide
filled with compassion
filled with pride
because he knew 
he had truly won...

© 2015 TrilbyYates

In The Hands Of The Misinformed

Illuminating 
star bursts 
shattered glass 
piercing
penetration
shock 
your system 
set back
sound crackling 
bolt of lightening 
never 
- strikes twice 
never 
- strikes twice 
same place 
same time 
wind blows 
dust circles 
whipped into 
a frieze 
there's no place 
- like home
there's no place 
- like home 
lost track 
of ones 
own self 
humanity 
falls 
to the right 
he picks up 
a gun 
instead of 
using his words 
his fist flies 
into thin air 
missing 
- its mark 
missing 
- the point 
of no return 
not unlike 
a bullet 
...in the hands of the misinformed 

© 2015 TrilbyYates

Hell

There are days
when little to nothing
can move within
the close quarters
of the walls 
now 
self proclaimed 
as barren –
claustrophobia is a 
weakness to some
that steps up
when all else 
fails
and yes there is 
some comfort
in the self
imprisonment
confinement 
the familiar
the nest
of being able 
to reach out
and touch
all the boundaries
limitations
of this self created
safe haven
sacred zone  
a prison for a soul
absorbed in its
personally imposed 
version of...Hell 

© 2015 TrilbyYates

Little Soldier

Restrictions and conviction 
all on the right side of God 
and what happens 
if we don't fit the mold 
if we don't fit 
what we have been told 
march on little soldier 
march on 
take the time to think 
long and hard 
slight of hand 
hidden card 
king of diamonds 
queen of hearts 
heart hearts 
bleeding hearts 
worn reluctantly 
like her crown 
slipping down 
that slope of rational 
and madness 
main vein slice 
weak in the knees 
another attempt 
another failure 
skip to the last page 
and read ahead
and when you get 
to the best part
remember to start
from the beginning again
repetitive action
a minority fraction
societal reaction
march on little soldier
march on... 

© 2015 TrilbyYates

Captain

One foot in front 
of the other
a sexy aloof 
sway of the hips
purposely oblivious 
to watching eyes
entranced by the sounds 
that surround 
Atlantic breeze 
always makes 
the heart skip a beat
passion still flows -
A smile appears as corners 
turn up on glossy full lips
simple thought sings silently
when out of the blue
4” stiletto gets stuck 
random spaces between
floating dock on top 
of a restless sea
throwing off the perfection
of a seductive stride
sweet sound 12 bar riff
the only vibration 
that echos bouncing 
from mast to mast
obscene ranting 
of frustration
pick up the pieces 
dust them off 
take another step
a bit more aware 
of what lie ahead
go against the grain
blow caution to the wind 
one last act of defiance
step on board 
a swaying 40 footer
heels in hand
exposing a subtle
amount of long legs
a left hand salute
questioning eyes
“Permission to come a board, Captain?” 

© 2015 TrilbyYates 

A Theft Of The Heart

She counts 
all the men 
that have 
come and gone 
rise and fall 
tiny notches 
on her wall 
and they will 
never know 
what piece of her 
they have taken 
with them 
and it's not 
anything transparent 
or cliche 
words that rhyme 
or step away 
it's the subtleties 
in her voice 
the way she 
touched their brow 
and as they 
shuffle down the street 
straightening their tie 
and belt buckle
they will never know 
the wonder 
that she felt 
at their absence 
the after thought 
or the expression 
of sorrow 
for the lacking 
in how we have 
raised our boys 
and to her amazement 
there is no hostility 
only remorse 
for what they steal 
and never borrow 
...a theft of the heart

© 2015 TrilbyYates 

Taxi Driver

What to say when a question is posed
Like a bull in a China shop…
The only answer lay dumbfound-ed on the tongue of an exiled wise-ass   
“So, uh what about you, dating yet or uh, anything…?”  
That is how the question game begins
Twisting in the wind via self-preservation, defensiveness… and
A touch of whatthefuck –
One way ticket directly to Hell
Do not pass go or collect two hundred dollars…
Just answer the question and hit the high road, get out of Dodge
A fast train to…no where 
The reply is not as quick witted as a sniper's shot
Answers flying solo on the wrong side of the road
While the stakes are higher still as Park Avenue never crosses Broadway
And the mortgage was lost on a free toss...Dooms Day 1929
Spin the wheel of fortune, on the down beat I can name that tune
Just the slightest hint and charades is no longer much of a challenge
Along with finding the misplaced Shroud of Turin
In a small apartment on the lower side of Tribeca
At a film festival that draws only an exclusive crowd
While a slight echo bounces around the inside of my head
For a writer I find myself at a complete loss for words....
So in my best De Niro I take aim and fire…

“…you talkin to me?” 

© 2015 TrilbyYates 

Recognition

A few side steps 
off the curve you fall
and for a while 
there is a time and place
to bat your eyes 
and lick your lips
as if the package 
is all that matters 
in those moments when
the label tastes better 
than the wine
and the left hand 
on your Rolex
gets stuck 
between AM and PM
in a hesitating movement
that never gets beyond 
the here and now
...remember where you came from
not just where you’re headed
because at the end 
of the day
all that matters 
is what you hold
dear to your heart
even if it is gently worn
on the sleeve 
of your designer suit
with an occasional 
nod of recognition
to what once was… 

© 2015 TrilbyYates