Heaven, Hell or Brooklyn

Walking beyond the dunes
sea grass slips
between my fingers
The roar of the ocean
calms my nerves
and I remember
how you felt
beneath the waves
The Siren's song whistles
in the night carried
by an ocean breeze;
and every night your memory
brings me to my knees
And I wonder...
Heaven, Hell or Brooklyn - where is love

Gates of Heaven open wide
but I'm lost in Hell's grip
held tight in Hell's grip -
I'm the prom queen that was never crowned
I'm the missing chapter in my own lyrical book
Dylan-esque quality but he choked on my words
how brilliantly absent minded
how brilliantly absurd

Last night I walked into a bar,
not sure if my wounds were covered,
not sure if I'd gone to far
but your blue eyes lit the way
making it easy not to stumble
making it easy to imagine
with a kiss so deep, 
vows never to be broken
and I'm at a loss for words 
and don't know what to say
So now I wonder...
Heaven, Hell or Brooklyn - when is love going to stay

You have that last nail in the coffin look
Not a criminal or a crook
But you stole my heart from me
Pages folded over in the last chapter of my lyrical book
Heaven, Hell or Brooklyn - when is love going to set me free

Maintaining faith hasn't always been kind,
but never mind, 
I fell asleep during the best part
While your eyes look deep into mine
God only knows it's a fresh start
And now I'm wondering
wondering out loud
wondering about Heaven Hell or Brooklyn

Where is the love that's supposed to carry me through
Where is the love that I've been hanging on to
Faith isn't just for the weary,
Faith isn't just for the forgotten
Maybe I shouldn't have spoken so boldly,
maybe I should have kept my mouth shut
but fuck, what have I got to lose 

I'm the prom queen that was never crowned
I'm a missing chapter in my own lyrical book
Dylan-esque quality, but he choked on my words
how brilliantly absent minded
how brilliantly absurd...

Heaven Hell or Brooklyn - where is love now

© 2014 TrilbyYates 

Saint Cecilia's Song

Looking beyond 
the window
framing dreamy 
images 
like a professional 
paparazzo
Candle light
burns so bright
Bleeding Heart flowers
circle your name
center of meditation-al drift
And you - you are a song
perfect harmony,
perfect gift
Shimmering 
from side to side
Tap dancing wonder,
heartbeat drummer, 
cat on a hot tin roof
Cheshire smile
horizons wide 
sunset or sunrise
you look like heaven 
in this light 
Saint Cecilia sing for me - 

while holy water spills 

from a vase 
on the counter - 
your voice glistens...

Roses are red and violets are blue
you say words in a whisper
...baby I've never loved better than you
Roses are red and violets are blue
you say words in a whisper
...baby I've never loved better than you

© 2014 TrilbyYates  

Love Chanting

Summer sun 
short circuit 
cuts directly 
from my brain 
to my heart
eyes close
and I can see
...a clear path  - to you

Each ray 
that shoots 
across the bow 
of this 
magnificent vessel 
mind and spirit
carrying with it 
a message
...of love - to you

Chanting with the tide 
full moon is on the rise

Goddess of Love
Goddess of Light

                                                               photo by TYates


© 2014 TrilbyYates 

Dear Bartender

Pen to paper can be intimidating - old school writing feels awkward when it has been years since the last time I actually put...pen to paper. But on this trip no laptop, no word processing devices - didn't think to bring anything along to write with...front desk, sweet faced young man - red curly hair and blue eyes accommodates all requests made by the patrons staying at the 1661 Inn; even if that means some improvising. Carefully he tares out several sheets of paper from his note book and hands me a pen apologetically - as if he thinks it isn't good enough - there is just enough of a pause and hesitation in his gesture, a dead give away; but it is perfect for what I need. My head is filling up and overflowing with words and it's time to write or I will forget - which is never a good option for me - I don't seem to do well with regret...all those pearls of wisdom, jewels of thought so perfectly strung together, lost...gone forever! Tragic I think, as I step outside into the old world of Block Island. 

It is an oceanic-transformation that I can feel in the pit of my stomach - brave soul they say, going away all by your self... 

Out and about on the island, hands of the grandfather clock tick tock - 6:00PM; I walk down Spring Street to the Hotel Manisses for a drink - standing behind the bar is a July summer sun tanned handsome man talking to all the guests as if he has known them for years. Bartender lingo pro is quick, witty and charming; he chats comfortably - earning every dollar that is being rung up quicker then a blink in a turn of the century ornate quasi cash register. He looks at me, smiles and asks - what's your pleasure beautiful lady? Clearing my throat - a vodka tonic with a twist of lime please. The bartender asks...any particular Vodka? My reply clumsy, but attempting to act as if in the know...Tito's please, if you have it? He smiles and winks; continues to chat up the other customers - they are affectionately letting him know how thrilled they are that he decided to return to the Manisses for another season -  a multitasking Svengali!

My plan for the evening is to have a drink outside on the patio where I wont appear so obviously solo on the most romantic island in New England - but, if I have learned anything in this life, plans can change as quickly as the wind...

The bartender places a coaster and my Tito and tonic with a fresh slice of lime on the bar...he asks if I would hang around for a while - the drink is on him. Again the smile - slightly blushing I agree and thank him. He waits and watches as I take a sip...looking up from my glass into his eyes - a striking sea blue color - I can see a glimmer of approval and I smile back at him - with the straw still between my lips. And I wonder, does one, drink a "Tito" and tonic with a fresh slice of lime through a straw or sip from the glass...

By the second drink we are talking with more openness, as if we have also known each other for years; about inconsequential things, silly light things - music, songs - good music and bad music - is there any future in music, film. The Yankees and the Red Socks - World Cup, America's Cup - and how to steam the best lobster in the entire world. The conversation shifts back and forth, from day to day interests cautiously to personal - what do you do, what are your dreams, married, kids, in a relationship, out of one - how long. 

Some people enter the bar dressed for dinner or more casual, just stop by for a quick drink after a long day on the beach or out sailing around the island. The walls begin to drift away and vanish. Comfort and ease replace my sense of being alone on my visit and sitting in a bar full of couples and - yes, flirting with, not just a bartender, but "the" most beloved  bartender on Block island.

The conversation flows like a fine wine - how cliche, but sometimes the best or worst cliches work for a reason...they fit like a fine pair of haute couture gloves. 

We chat and laugh. He asks what my plans are for the night - I'm going to finish my drink and walk back to the inn and write. He leans in and asks if I will wait for him to finish up and maybe we can walk together. Maybe he can buy me another drink at a local slow dancing dimly lit beach bar in the Old Harbor. And maybe afterward he can talk me into going back to his place. 

Feeling verbally uninhibited now - you just want me to sleep with you! I jokingly gasp. He laughs and with a slight nod he says -  you got me darlin, confirmation of ulterior motives, I confess. Is that really what you think? An intense serious look crosses his face, strangely I'm drawn to him because of it. There is an air of honesty and sincerity in his expression and eyes.

Not sure what to think. Maybe I'm completely delusional in thinking anything; that this person has any interest in sleeping with me - and now I'm feeling a little silly. A little - but not completely embarrassed; a bit off guard maybe and slightly vulnerable.

He can sense my discomfort and says in his best Cary Grant - it is a perfect night for a walk darling...come on beautiful think about it. 

You my new friend can make one hell of a great "Tito" and tonic with a slice of fresh lime, but can not give me what I want or need - And, not an afterthought, but I don't just sleep with every pretty face I meet when vacationing alone in paradise...he smiles again and says, how do you know I can't give you what you want or need? What do you want? Do you know what you need? A little music, a slow dance, the sounds of the ocean...candle light...we all need that don't we?

Ah yes my dear bartender, sweet lovely bartender - handsome and most likely too young for me in the real world bartender...are you sure you want to hear this? Are you sure you are ready and can handle what I will say? I've had a few, wonderfully made I might add, drinks with you and the gift of gab has not been lost on either of us. 

Straight up honest shooter, he replies - I like that. 

Ok handsome, get ready...

I want...
...someone to take my hands hold them tenderly and kiss them, 
look into my eyes and know it is enough. 
I want...
... someone to kiss my lips and take my breath away,
look into my eyes and know it is enough. 
I want... 
...someone to say all the words that will fill both our hearts and ring true, perfect tone, not hollow or off key - 
look into my eyes and know it is enough. 
I want and need ...
...a friend, a lover that can feel, see and accept all of my history, my imperfections without judgement,
look into my eyes and know that it is enough. 
I want and need...
... a friend a lover that knows in his core being that when he looks into my eyes the love between us is unconditional and reciprocated and that it is enough.

How's that for starters?

Well, he says quietly, taking my hands and holding them in his - they feel warm and soft - not weak. He looks at me closely and brings my hands to his lips...he kisses them - he closes his eyes for a moment...and then looks at me again - he whispers, where have you been all of my life beautiful? 

I know it's a cliche but it fit like a fine pair of haute couture gloves...

© 2014 TrilbyYates      

United By Gender

There is no 
safety zone
or comfort 
in numbers 
The votes 
have been cast
- opinions abound
The tides are turning,
and at the risk 
of an uprising,
United By Gender
the battle will rage on 
As my grandmother,
my mother before me 
and the females 
that will come after; 
our right to express 
and to determine
our destiny 
is that unto its own
Our choice - 
Be it faith based,
or conscience ,
reasons of practicality 
or not, 
timing or lack of 
No religion, 
no man, 
nor political agenda;
will hold the power,
will obtain control 
over the basic rights
to our innate freedoms. 

© 2014 TrilbyYates