Not That Kid

Making gum wrapper chains  
snap pop New York kid shuffle
innocence was a game 
we never intended to play 
it was always like blowing smoke 
into the wind
choking on the fumes 
brown paper bag huffing
the last boat has sailed
and it doesn't matter any more
because the kid can't swim anyway 
and the Atlantic waters will chill to the bone
especially when you are floating - far far from home
and as the kid wanders and wonders 
about all the cracks in the pavement
and the footsteps that slide and shuffle - late in the night
all she recalls is the pop pop pop
and the rattle of a snake
reminiscent of an old western 1950s flick 
when only the bad guy wore black
and we all know the only snakes in the city 
wear haute couture suits
carrying pens of gold to seal deals 
that wreak havoc on the masses
and it doesn't matter where you stand - or if you stand at all
the view is the same city by city
country by country
power hungry fat cats 
belly protruding finger licking - scoping out the dessert tray
and when the fog doesn't lift quick
and it gets too thick where they sleep
the pie in the sky top floor will flip 
and shift from exclusive to tenement
and guess who is moving
where the air is clear and clean?
suddenly the eye level view 
becomes a treasured source - of pride and privilege
certainly not the kid from the block 
the kid that played Motown 
and danced in the streets
falling in love with the boy from upstate
a first kiss slow dance warm hands 
not the 2nd generation kid 
whose eyes haven't gentrified 
turning brown into blue
or a name with too many letters 
simplifying it to Joe or Sue
No, not that kid
Not that kid 
The kid we all were 
Or the kid we all knew...

© 2015 TrilbyYates

Christmas Songs

Tis the season, yes, tis the season
for joy, strength, purity of heart, purity of faith
unity in family, friends old and new
sharing and giving unconditional love
...yet there is a distance in the feel
of the Christmas songs 
- at least for me
a detached sense of how blessed
we are all supposed to be
when the world is exploding
walls going up, fear and hate soaring
the eagles fly high - the eagle flies alone
and the baby's cry and a child's scream
mother, father, sister, brother
running into harms way instead of into the arms
of someone familiar, someone who shares - the same bloodline
maybe they are not hiding on my street
or bleeding in my city but there is a haunting howl
that penetrates and scars the purity of a holy night
and there is no sleep or restful place in my home
the sounds are loud, the sounds are clear,
deafeningly loud and crystal clear
the cry is there for all to hear - where do I belong
and what if we don't, what if we tune out
turn up the volume on Christmas songs
drowning out the cries; what if we choose
to remain detached - and distant
wrapped in the warmth, wrapped in the safety
of our own homes; not knowing where I belong
what if we choose to close our hearts,
and block the sounds that are drowning out - the Christmas songs

© 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

Music Time

I fell in love with a boy
who held music in his hands
like a fragile thought
that could easily slip away
it filled his heart
like there was never
enough time
for all the notes to play
making his chest ache
the way mine did
every time he kissed
my finger tips
we would make love
on the music room floor
while searching for inspiration
knowing it was only
moments away
nothing seemed beyond our reach
so we would wait
and watch the sunrise
slowly coming up and over the city streets
there is such beauty in the breaking of dawn
hitting high notes within the perfection
of a continuous and endless line
listening closely until we couldn't - dance any more
...remember my name - he'd say
I would look deep into his eyes
while strumming my guitar
never missing a note
his face etched in the most cherished
place in my mind and we both knew
I was his and he was mine
we would be forever - connected in music time

© 2014 TrilbyYates

Walk The Streets Of Tribeca

I walk the streets 
where you used to live, 
the city you thrived in
The city you fell in love with, 
the city that set you free;
while at the same time crippling you - 
taking away any sense of coherency
But, you, you were alright, 
you were a shining star
you were on fire, 
the pretty boy 
with the moody green eyes, 
the seductive faraway stare
You lived in the city 
that pulled you over the edge 
Submerging you into darkness,
driving you to cut deeper 
until your art bled 
into oblivion 
Your creative energy dripped 
like an intravenous 
main lining junkie;
scores strewn across the floor 
Your best work,
your brilliance blinds 
The toll -
twenty years 
of your precious life, 
twenty years 
of a collective genius 
I walk the streets 
where you used to live, 
the city you played in, 
wishing I had known you then -
The clubs that filled 
with locals 
1970-something 
vagabonds 
creative types;
the abstract overly talented 
movers and shakers -
to the point of their own absurdity,
just to catch a glimpse 
of your vibrancy -
bringing out the lacking 
in their own luster 
You were 
one of a kind, 
a rare find 
Unique in a time 
of originality 
An artist to your core,
and yet between all the lines 
praise, paranoia and deception 
the purity of your soul 
was lost on most 
and stolen from you 
before you understood 
what it meant to have a life;
only to let life have you - 
Twenty years you said, 
twenty years and it had to end
There was joy in your eyes 
as they took you away,
a sense of peace 
We didn't realize 
our last kiss 
was an unknown 
...farewell 
Finally, twenty years lost
and finally you had it all
And in that finality,
in a moment,
in an instant,
you were gone...
I walk the streets 
in the city you loved
I walk the streets of Tribeca,
imagine running into you  -
Our eyes would meet,
on some magical level
there is a glimmer of recognition
You would smile only slightly
then turn away 
I'd write my name
on a piece of paper 
and slip it into your pocket
as you brush past  -
looking back
knowing you will find it
and fall in love with me 
...someday

© 2014 TrilbyYates