Tidal Push

February, Valentines Day 2007. We celebrated the way lovers do. We had hope and such a bright future planned. Our time felt fluid and the perfection was without mention...

Two days later it was as if someone had cut the cord; our lifeline snapped and everything changed, shifted forever. Lung cancer, stage 4... 

We now had a new plan and new future - time did not stand still; time was no longer fluid, we now had a defined time limit. 

Everyday we would drive to the hospital. The same route; same twists and turns in the road. The changing seasons; a white winter snow, new growth and the warmth of spring, hot summer sun...and the mysterious golden glow of fall. 

We would talk, if you felt up to it; keeping things light and hopeful...only a few more rounds of Chemo left, then we can look for that house on the water... back to our plans, back to our plans - wishful thinking...naive, yet hopeful. 

I would look over at you, sitting in the passengers seat of our Mini Cooper, pale and thin; the pain in my heart was deep - beyond expression. You would smile at me and take my hand to your lips and kiss my fingers; thanking me for being with you and not letting go...we had always promised we would never let go...

One fall night, our last ride on that road, same twists and turns - this time you rode in the back, I was up front in the passengers seat; sirens blaring - the tide rushed up and took you away, I wasn't ready then...I'm not ready now.

Over the years as I drove around town, I would look over to the passengers seat, I could feel your presence. I found comfort knowing you were still with me, your spirit hadn't left and selfishly, not wanting to let go, I held on. I held on and on, white knuckling it at times; fearful of the day when I would get in the car and you would be gone.

February, Valentines Day 2016. The tide came up without warning, water rushed in and took you away again - I wasn't ready then, and I'm not ready now...  but time does not stand still for anyone and our life plans did change; eight years have passed. 

The tidal push left me in the wake of loss and letting go - my choices now, like then are limited. Not life or death, but a change. Change is a necessity, moving forward is a life line to taking a deep breath in and a slow breath out.  A new Mini Cooper, a new future... and if I look over to the passenger seat, I'm hopeful that I will feel you there once more...

© 2016 TrilbyYates

I Want

I walk a fine line, a tight rope from polar vortex to polar vortex 
A non space in the middle troposphere that extends into the stratosphere 
Earthly fears never hold me back; I don't ever look back
...except when reminiscing over candle light

I am a borderline narcissist as most of my friends;
- but isn't that just being human?
Isn't that all part of our DNA?
Don't blame mom and pop, blame Dr. Who with a foggy recollection
Dyno-gen pool mix and match his and hers blended 
Soaring colors shoot into the darkest pockets of a night sky 
Full moon blitz aurora borealis splintered shock wave dash!

I want to dance
- and sing; play my guitar 
I want to write with no inhibitions 
I want my passions to have no limits 
I want to kiss with no intention 
Love with no expectations 
Hold the one next to me
as if it is our last day 
on this lovely planet 
Our last day driving this vehicle 
into the ground 
And when my spirit lets go of the wheel 
there will be a band playing my favorite songs
The lights dim and the tight rope will snap
Sparks will soar whip lash perfection
My life will become beautiful once again


© 2016 TrilbyYates

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

My Lovers Gone

There is a story, 
it is my own 
It fills all the spaces and lines 
that lead in and around 
the deepest and most shallow 
- like a wading pool, or sandbar - water up to my knees 
floating sensation into the abyss of joyfulness 
- all part of my mind 
Energy free form soaring, bounding rhetoric 
leaving an indiscriminate mark of solace 
etched in a monogram of initials 
- for all of those I have loved 
Freeing words trickle out ever so slowly,
with no sense of urgency
but, as a delicate pearl of wisdom 
flowing freedom with the knowing 
of an ocean bed, comfort in its path 
More than okay with its journey - and its destination 
Carving a path that will change with each season,
with each tide pulled by the moon light, beckoning
like my lovers gone and I will continue on and on...

- floating sensation into the abyss of joyfulness...
like my lovers gone, and I will continue on and on

© 2015 TrilbyYates

Depression

Shades drawn closed 
darkness blankets 
every corner of the room 
shadows become one 
flattened and obscure 
off in the distance 
are muted sounds
a whistling tea pot 
hopefully someone 
will attend to its needs 
wrapped gingerly within 
solitary seclusion and doubt 
...insecurity has become 
a knife held to my throat 
by my own hand 
widow's lasting garb 
fits like a second skin 
forming tightly around 
my waist and chest
heart beats out of necessity 
blood flows like an encore 
I hide within the day to day 
smiles and conversation 
secretly counting the seconds 
to when I might feel 
somewhat alive again 
it comes and goes 
velvet waves washing over
and a twisting churning knot 
tightens in my chest 
familiar hand reaching deep
fingers entwined
a death grip crippling
sleep comes a timely relief 
if only temporary 
ghosts and dream screams 
flutter quietly about
softly stroking my cheek
cold and damp to touch
until I rise and begin again 
praying for resolve and relief

© 2015 TrilbyYates 

Someone Is Shouting Jihad

Clear Parisian sky 
a sweet night 
to live and die 
without purpose
or validation of intent
but a twist of fate 
walking down 
the Champs Elysees 
and in my heart 
there is a love song 
and bright city lights
and what is that 
I heard you say 
not in a soft whisper 
but accusatory verbiage
and solitary sob
someone is shouting Jihad
you have a cause 
but you have no home 
you hide, linger and roam 
and wander in obscurity 
blanketed chatter code 
distant and detached
from the pulse 
of the universe 
you were born 
to cherish and to hold
loyal to a higher source 
fantasy wild illusion 
of what may be waiting 
for your brothers
on the other side
there is no solution
there is no pride
stained in blood and flesh 
your stairway to heaven
is a fiery inferno 
leading not to the purity 
of innocent virgins 
as you have been told
but as a venomous snake 
you will find only darkness 
not shadow or light 
nor colors bright 
but an abyss 
of nothingness 
we create what we are
someone is shouting Jihad... 

© 2015 TrilbyYates 

Umbrella Of The 2nd Amendment

It all seems very 
inconsequential 
relevant to only a few
in the moment
perception wrapped 
in a bloody cloth 
carried around 
in a shoulder bag 
right side of the cause 
and you will weep 
for your neighbor 
kiss the ground 
you stand on
thankful your home
remains in tact
people in glass houses 
shouldn't throw stones
stray bullets with an agenda 
manifesto magnifico 
wont change your mind 
one dimensional devotee
in the name of all that is divine 
father, son, and holy ghost
while Mother Mary works
her magic in disguise  
old school way of thinking 
solid, stead fast and free
but when the winds shift
a quick turning of the tide
and you find yourself
kneeling at the feet 
of the forgiven
soulful and sanctimonious
your child's heart pounding 
hands trembling
looking deep into
innocent eyes 
pupils dilated clear and wide 
do you whisper softly 
I promise everything will be OK
I promise everything will be fine
we are protected and gun dependent
under the umbrella of the 2nd amendment?

© 2015 TrilbyYates
 

Comedy Is In The Tragic

A cast of characters parade and dance with delight
Sabotage the plot skewed view of how the story could go
Should go but didn't...or did it?
Questions from the observer, birds eye view
Critics words strewn about from an avant garde status
Wrapped in the warm glow of stained glass 
Yet frigid to an intruders touch
Red, blue, yellow, green sunlight splashes of color
Altering the image, altering the direction 
Of the one true artist
Pliable to our own will 
- but not with the purity of a creative source
Not with the purity of the creative intention 
- more or less a reactionary split
When the casting call went out the Princess and Vagabond stroll
Consideration to one and all - equal opportunity G.O.D. employer
But the villain wears an uncanny disguise
And Beelzebub as we now recognize - The comedy is in the tragic
The comedy is in the things we can't see
And you won't marry me because I am you
…and that is against your faith 
You can't touch me because your reflection burns
So you watch and wait...smoldering sizzle
While our child drowns in the vast public view
And no one was watching - do you believe me?
Now and then we cop a plea, we plead the fifth
And hold the Constitution up 
Because it can't stand on its own
To an immoral high standard, higher than this life we cherish
Higher than each breath we take, exhale slowly
It only hurts the first time
This life as we now know it is not for the faint of heart
Made up of a multitude of choices 
and of ones own choosing
And if not of your choosing
But because of circumstance or a feedback loop
Remember somehow - it will always bring you home 

© 2015 TrilbyYates

Red Dress And No Shoes

You want a happy ending just like everyone does
but that isn't always the way the story goes
when it's a page turner and the punch line at the end
leaves you empty handed and a bit  more aloof
words fall flat and I'm left in your silence

...and I'm standing at the corner flower shop
wearing a red dress and no shoes
and I can't remember why I came here
and can't remember how to get home

It has been a long time since we crossed paths
and sometimes it's the length of time
that soothes the wounds and heals broken dreams
not a heart bending string broken absence of emotion
spending too much time on my own - too much time alone

...and I'm standing at the corner flower shop
wearing a red dress and no shoes
and I can't remember why I came here
and I can't remember how to get home

Doesn't really matter that much
when all that passes for good looks is a cheap imitation
my lack of sentiment my short falls and my limitations
victims need an advocate and I need a priest
nothing can touch me when I'm standing this high on the wall
and nothing can catch me when I lose my footing and begin to fall

...and I'm standing at the corner flower shop
wearing a red dress and no shoes
and I can't remember why I came here
and I can't remember how to get home
I spend too much time in the shadows
I spend too much time alone
and I'm standing at the corner flower shop…

© 2015 TrilbyYates

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

Metal And Flesh

You don't have to say anything
Choices made set in stone
sometimes silence is golden 
sometimes silence speaks volumes 
Sit tight in your plastic palace 
higher than a kite flies up 
and above all the trash talk 
Bobble headed shift and shuffle shakers 
who could care more or less 
Another gun goes off 
mind to hand 
finger on the trigger
automatic reaction
pull it back
set the world on fire 
Bullet set free 
sonic boom discharge 
penetrating time and space 
piercing flesh and bone 
Blood pumps adrenalin high 
heart beat 
heart beat 
heart heart beat heart beat heart 
...beat skip and jump
heart stop 
...heart 
...heart 
Metal and flesh 
melt into eternity 
a long dark shallow grave 
Linger in the midst of dust and ash 
Linger in the scent of death
Another gun goes off 
mind to hand 
automatic reaction 
finger on the trigger 
Bullet set free sonic boom discharge 
penetrating time and space 
piercing flesh and bone 
Blood pumps adrenalin high 
heart beat 
heart beat 
heart heart 
beat heart 
beat heart...heart beat...heart be...heart b...heart...__________________

© 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

Time Together

I recall those dreams you had
the way they put a smile on your face;
the way life used to take you by storm
...but never caught you off guard 
Now and then I come to terms 
with all that we once had
and all that we could not hold onto 
As hard as we tried it slipped away 
like the wind in a storm that passes 
without intention or direction... 
Once you held my heart in your hand
said all the right words,
all that I wanted to hear;
and you meant every single 
sweet word and hushed moments
But we didn’t know
what was around the next turn
so we never looked ahead
...and that’s not a short coming,
only life and how one lives;
we lived so close to the perimeter 
You could feel the razors edge
cutting into your skin
like a knife to the heart
and nothing would be left
when all was said and done 
Now you have moved 
to another space in time
where angel’s songs ring in my ears
And I’ll stand on the cliff of our time together
and never forget you - I will never forget you... 

© 2015 TrilbyYates 

Beyond The Fog

Early morning light peers through tiny cracks like a private eye - subtle surveillance
Between nightmares and day-dreams there is a harsh sense that shoots across the sky
As reality focuses on the blurred vision of weary eyes and the only time line has spanned the universe
A love that lives in another sphere…what is there after you?
The question lay still and the answers are silent…

For certain, one day follows the next,
      the sun will rise and the sun will set…
      the tide is high and the tide is low…
      the night comes  and the morning goes…

I wake up knowing that there is something more and yet there is no clarity beyond the fog of my own imagination… 

© 2015 TrilbyYates

Free Wheeling

I don't know man 
I'm drifting around 
kind of blurry eyed 
and every time 
I think I've got it right
- every time I think 
there is a turning of the tide 
some asshole steps up 
and shines a bright light 
on all my hiding places 
And I am not sure 
if anyone cares 
and that little care-less 
nonchalant mention 
goes a long way 
when all that flies by 
in the middle of the night 
are distant sirens 
from someone else's 
- tragedy
And isn't that 
the American way 
Isn't that 
what we were taught 
Isn't that 
the common thread 
that ties us all together
- linked by a common thread 
or blood line 
never drawn 
- in the sand 
last breath 
or taking a stand
And you never 
have to acknowledge 
my existence 
...you never 
have to acknowledge 
my existence
simply because 
I believe 
I have been 
free wheeling ...my life away 

© 2015 TrilbyYates

Death

So yes, I have hit the wall 
- many times
I've reached down 
in the darkness and found 
the bottom was still 
another 100 feet below me 
and all I can say 
with a hint of ambivalence
"...man what a trip, what a journey..." 

And all the introspective chatter 
and cliches passing thru the test of time 
held with the highest regard phrases 
don't hold an ounce of truth 
when the light at the end of the tunnel 
is a taunting echo of yourself 

Self help mumbo jumbo
new age movement
authors and prophets of old
who keep their secrets 
closely protected 
within their well guarded heart
while all along holding the key 
to their own mysteries 
...yet to be solved

And the passions rise 
when a nerve is struck
over and over again
their truth is well earned 
from their own rock bottom 
bouncing realizations 
when a light bulb moment
goes off the crowd kneels
and we all know it is
just another oxymoron 
but enlightens those in the dark 
without question none the less

Once again I am 
in a free fall 
seeing a lot of familiar faces
along the way
- and yet 
there is still no comfort 
in the masses 
and self pity is as destructive 
as falling on your own 
proverbial sword 
- it's all a ploy 
a way to make sense 
of the inevitable 
to maintain the purity of faith
in the smile of excellence
on your face
that it is sincere 
and not a reflection 
of one foot already planted 
firmly in the ground of fear

And that's not for me
I'm just saying man
that is not my way out 
my ashes will blow 
across the wide open sea
that sweet spot 
where land never 
reaches the eye
- carried by angels 
and when the time is right 
they will kiss me off 
into the wind I'll float
high above what was
once my reality

And in the distance 
a comforting voice 
will be heard 
whispers of welcome 
and a warm hand 
will reach out and touch 
that one remaining particle 
the ultimate human being
...death needs no introduction

© 2015 TrilbyYates

I Am Still Here

Your eyes close 
peaceful rest 
holding your hand 
a gentle squeeze 
...I'm still here 
Sunlight slips 
between the cracks 
in drawn shades 
Patterns of lace 
dance on pale 
linen colored walls 
Shallow breath 
I lay my head 
on your chest 
for confirmation 
you whisper 
...I'm still here 
We fall together 
a dream state 
a reverie 
and sacred space 
Fields of lavender 
and wild flowers 
The wind weaves
and sways
between long 
blades of grass 
Like a child 
fear and foe 
dissipate
and laughter 
permeates the air 
I turn to you 
your eyes 
meet mine 
...I'm still here
Warmth and energy
smiles forever wide
And off in the distance 
your shadow begins
to glisten
and in the quiet
the calm silence
leaning forward 
I strain to listen
and as your voice 
begins to fade
I can hear you say
I am still here, I am still here... 

© 2015 TrilbyYates