God Is Not Dead

Words quietly spoken
Words floating in the night
Billowing halo warped wrap around
words spoken quietly
God is dead
God is dead
- Faith is a belief not based on proof 
Faith is a tapestry silk and satin 
weaving through 
heart into soul
head into heart
Not tangible to touch
but a magical sensation 
weaving through heart into spirit
Rattling about so stable so very unshakable
- unbreakable  
Questionable in my dreams
Rattling about broken at times
Rosary beads slip from my hands
I sink to bended knee
unlike other faiths standing on equal ground
I sink to bended knee humbled
Questionable in my dreams
I woke wrapped in a cloud
wrapped in billowing halo warped wrap around
I said the words
I spoke out loud 
God is not dead 
God is not dead 
I said softly words whispered 
in the darkness of the night 
Words heard echoing bounce
Words spoken tongue tied
yet understood Tower of Babble
There is wisdom in the story
There is peace and confidence 
in the questioning of my faith 
My lack of belief has been 
a distant abstraction 
My lack of faith has been
at times a painful reaction
But in this fog hovering in the night
I was solid 
I was touched
I said it out loud
God is not dead 
God is not dead
I lay back falling into a deep sleep
wrapped in a cloud I began to weep 
And as the sails began to fill
and move slowly across the bay
I remembered the story
of choice and free will -

The vision brought tears to my heart
tears to my eyes and I cried at the image 
and the knowledge
I am wisdom
I am wise 
God is not dead
God is not dead

The vision brought tears to my heart
tears to my eyes and I cried at the image
and the knowledge
I am wisdom
I am wise
God is not dead
God is not dead

© 2015 TrilbyYates

Sail Away With Me

Waves caress port side
leaning to the left
filling the sails 
with a new 
direction
unknown
last breath
secrets from the other side – 
Whispering angels 
hovering above
- let him exhale one more time…
But I know prayers 
are rarely answered 
and coincidences 
never ring true
And songs blow by
haunting tunes 
of love and sorrow
I hear it in the wind
“…sail away with me honey, hold my heart in your hands, sail away with me honey, sail away with me now…” 

© 2015 TrilbyYates

Shifting Blame Shifting Time

Shifting time, shifting blame
an overly exposed place to be
Like an old black and white film
silence in the dramatic - pronunciation
classification weakened domination
of thought and word daydreams soothing 
It is a beautifully worn white albatross
hanging with ease from your neck - you never take it off
...moved quietly with your tender touch
to the deepest part of my lost heart
Take the time to search it out
and walk gingerly through my shadow
Walk carefree and with ease
the vision is deep - the vision is wide
Please be careful not to disrupt my solitude
shifting blame, shifting time
It has been years to my amazement
I sometimes count them in my sleep 
the way I hear the second hand moving
similar calming of counting sheep
Wishing I could somehow forget
forget the sound of your heavenly name
Wishing if only time could stand still
and everything that stood still - would remain the same
When you are alone in those private moments
a soft wind will blow tousling your hair about
A spray from the ocean will come across the bow
and your thoughts will be taken from here to there
And when the day begins to fade 
turning into that peaceful space of gray
The sun slipping off to the west 
and the moon begins to rise
I'll stand on my side of the Sound
and play back every word you ever said
Every word etched in memorial stone 
skipping lost seashells across the bay
and continue to wonder shifting time shifting blame
- what the fuck happened to you anyway... 

© 2015 TrilbyYates

Hudson Line Blows

So we go out to this bar
Saturday night sure thing
Down on the west side 
Of the infamous Hudson River
Blonde bombshell with crew
and dark haired mystery woman 
Tapan Zee to the north 
GWB to the south 
Across the river a whistle 
On the Hudson Line blows smoke 
While flying by everyone waves 
As if they are floating on liquid gold 
And I'm feeling lost 
In my old haunting ground
Like I've never been here before 
A stranger in familiar surroundings 
Out of my comfort zone 
Out of my element
A fish out of water
Square peg 
...in a round hole
Oblio  
And it's not a far stretch 
Of the imagination 
Culture shock and reminiscing 
Don't always go hand in hand 
Sipping wine through a straw
Cheap fragrant masculine cologne
Fills the air loud bass beat roll
Burns my senses to the core
Vinny and Frankie commonality 
Thick in the middle as age creeps up 
- but no one seems to notices 
By the time last call fades 
Off into the mist
I don't know where I belong any more 
Stepping out on all sides
Everything feels heavy handed 
Tossing snake eyes coming up double 
Maybe it's a fine time 
To play the hand that has been dealt 
And fade off into the horizon 
On a fast sailing vessel 
...Hells Gate with out warning

© 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

Footsteps In The Sand

When the veil is shed layer by layer 
A glimmering light from the never forgotten 
Is dulled by the glow of a not to distant future 
A shift in ones heart beat and state of mind 
Will ride out the storm that peacefully anticipates
The reoccurrence when the Widow meets the Captain 
From years ago on a tempestuous night 
In a far a way land when the past and present 
Did not collide leading two souls 
To fall from one pedestal to another 
Only to land in loving hands 
That could not be denied 
Yet forbidden in a world 
Of choice and morality 
Atonement as a Guardian Angel 
So lines do not become blurred  
Or washed out to sea 
As the tide sweeps away 
Lover’s footsteps in the sand 
Only to long for another time
To create those footsteps once again…

© 2015 TrilbyYates

Exhale

Exhale….
slow release
thoughts jump the rope
skip to simple complex closure of the mind
leave the day on a slow train
like a boat to China
no direction
short of misgivings or concern
fast track
take my hand
leading the way
fork in the road
wind blows
from the north shore
leaving less than what is anticipated
when expectations are already at a low
subtle smile lingers on… 

© 2015 TrilbyYates

Fair Winds And Following Seas

Sea breeze - a few glasses of wine
Conversations that go astray
Loose lips sail ships
From the traditional
“…what if’s…”
“…would you…”
Promises we do not need
Insecurities come to light
While others are put to rest
Love is not a link
In a chain that binds
But instead the feathers
In an angel’s wings
Teaching us how to fly
And as we hold on to one another
Wrapped in a blanket of delight
If there is never a second 
Crossing of our paths
Wishing you always…
 
"Fair Winds and Following Seas."


© 2014 TrilbyYates

End Of Summer Collection Part 1

You Can Call Me Scarlet

Let’s take a walk
down the avenue
buy roasted chestnuts in September
you can hold my hand
while wearing your best disguise
smile and whisper seductively
"…baby you are so easy on the eyes…"
 
You can call me Scarlet ~

© 2014 TrilbyYates 


Women Of The Sea

The wind rages from the west
Across the main land filling sails
Sending the day from 

Point to point
Tack
Mainsail luff
"Come about…”
A thought that never makes its way
From brain wave to verbal vibration -
All hands on deck a solo act
When solitude is the destination
Of least resistance
Peace rises between layers
Of wind and cloud
9 knots with 8 foot swells
Adrenalin hits a high note
As if Satchmo were crew
Blowing old favorites
From a time when life was a mystery
Or what we thought it could be –
Temptation drifts off
Into the slow burn of a sunset
Memories find a harmonious harbor
To rest during an inevitable storm
Slow sway
Sentimental echo
Making lovers dance
Babies dream  
While women of the sea
Gaze beyond the horizon…

© 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