The Loop Affect

Walking toward the morning sunrise

...Red sky at night a sailors delight
Red sky in morning sailors take warning...

Secluded shore covered in a blanket of
Sand and stone…
Seashells and colored sea glass
Tossed playfully to and fro
While footsteps are quietly washed away
No remnants left behind
An emotional tide of highs and lows
A continuous loop

Summer, winter, spring and fall… 

© 2015 TrilbyYates

Awakening The Senses

Historical preservation
...moments in time 
held with highest regard 
Tourists flock like pigeons on the plaza 
Camera's long zoom lens
Nikon, Canon hanging 
around their neck
Focusing on the image 
The experience is captured
knowing its own mortality
But is the experience felt? 
Is it a deal breaking 
mesmerizing life altering 
electrifying source of energy
that ripples with intent up the spine
Waves of acknowledgement
triggering a brain freeze
with a wanting to preserve 
- the stirred raw emotions?
A bring you to your knees 
tear jerking thanking God 
beyond fucking words
beyond fucking grateful 
to be alive, to be here 
to be in this moment
- this very precise moment...now?
Walking in the footsteps 
of those so far outside
of our own comfort zone
a place so abstract
it doesn't even register
un - comprehensible 
Can't quite wrap your head 
around it...
Are those intoxicating moments
- absorbed?
The birthplace of the Renaissance!
Santa Maria del Fiore...The Duomo
Piazza della Signoria 
Bartolomeo Ammanati's Fountain of Neptune  
Palazzo Vecchio, 
Ponte Vecchio...locks of love
Architecture mixing it up 
with Medieval, Baroque
Neoclassical and modern

Dancing to a beat 
on their own time line

- their own drum 
Sounds vibrate and echo

all to the visitors delight

Da Vinci, Michelangelo, 
Cellini, Giambologna

A creative magical 
vitality consumed 

with each breath 
and step taken...back

Palazzo Pitti, Boboli Gardens

On and on 
endless stimulation

All filling the heart 
with anticipation  
awakening the senses 
to the possibilities
Exhaling with complete abandon
and the innocence of awe...

© 2015 TrilbyYates

Deviant Past

The days 
Shorter now
Nights longer...
Appearing darker 
Than the norm
Without the slightest 
Hint of an artists color
Creative minds 
Freeze dry
Skyline falls flat
Just a hint of sepia
But only around 
The rough edges
And I have a hole 
In my one size fits all 
Italian handmade 
100% cotton shirt
Revealing more 
Than my self exposed
Deviant Past
And there is
A loose thread
From talking to much
And most likely 
...way to fast 
And a button 
Fell off of my 
Personal favorite
Pinstriped mannish 
Looking vest 
Rolling out 
With the grandeur
Of the infamous 
Velveteen carpet
Into oncoming traffic
Just when the light 
Was turning from 
A  cautionary  
Sunshine yellow 
To a blood curdling
Crimson red 
What could I do 
What could be said 
I've been stopped
In my forever hesitant
Walking backwards
And always covered 
Self absorbed tracks
Can't seem to find 
The perfect reflection
Or the perfect match
While always burning
A scented candle
At both ends 
And from where 
I am standing 
At the end of this 
Oh so lovely pier
Waves rolling in 
A repetitive taunt 
Hypnotic intention 
I maintain a blank 
Yet stoic stare
While the Man In The Moon 
Knows all too well
It is the end 
Of just another day
Glancing up at his 
Historical expression 
All I want to do 
Is slap that grin 
Off his distant
Untouchable face...
Putting an end
To the haunting progression
This invisible place
Instead I lose 
My footing once more
Sweetly blanketed
Cellophane Pseudo Sea
The familiar Sound 
My only safe haven 
So I will conclude 
And soulfully concede
Taking a deep breath 
While I quietly weep
I have but one choice 
That is to reluctantly give in
...and take it to the deep ~

© 2014 TrilbyYates

Un-reciprocated Possibilities

Words dripping from my lips
mid sentence lapse of judgment
makes no sense to let them fall
but I'm feeling empty headed
And I can't get beyond my own thoughts 
and on a better day I would know
it's not about you at all...
- this is just about me

... now I'm stumbling around
like one of the three blind mice,
and maybe I should be undercover
but I can't seem to get out of my own way 
and you could look right through me 
and not have a thing to say
 - and it would be alright

Maybe you did not feel the burn the way I did
or the earth move beneath your feet 
And it doesn't really matter
because I can only speculate about you 
and only speak honestly for me...

I'm still mesmerized by the glow - basking in the glory
of un-reciprocated possibilities
and everyone has their own version 
even though it sounds like the same story
- this is just about me

... now I'm stumbling around
like one of the three blind mice,
and maybe I should be undercover
but I can't seem to get out of my own way 
and you could look right through me 
and not have a thing to say
- and it would be alright


© 2014 TrilbyYates 

Self

Flickering flash light 
sparkling florescent glitter 
weaving shadowy reflections 
and sounds vibrating  - 

Imagine: tiny poetic dancers  
movements fluttering on stucco walls 
texture rubs the senses with twirling 
drips of a grand illusion 
fan fare and flags waving...
with no peaceful conclusion -

Yet the heart continues to pose 
question after question 
without clarity - the illusive peace of mind 
the illusive state of being 
in alignment with ones Self - or another-s...Self 

The solidarity of peace and being
continually alludes someone like me 
with fear of the faithless cautionary guide
skipping stones across a vast ocean
from here to there a safe haven ... is too far to see

Reflection is an action
examining all the pages 
our own personal story book -
like pop up characters 
they willingly unfold
page one, two so on...and on and on
we reluctantly savor a perspective look...
While some images are  to difficult to hold
or look squarely head on...eyes close

Drawing on the powers that be
drawing on some ancestral Euro strength 
a Pandora's box within you and me
drawing on rumored reputation 
east coast tough guy fact
lands solidly scuffed knees
hands of a beggar ...fingers entwined Gods final act

Pulling images and memories 
are bricks in the foundation
the foundation of ones own being
Self...posing the questions, 
holding the answers
revealing more 
always concealing less
casting light into the darkness
un-ringing the proverbial bell
changing the lines drawn in the sand 
a distant voice 
speaking clearly 
decoded words of knowledge
a fine line between fate 
and freedom of choice

...freedom of choice 

© 2014 TrilbyYates

 

Notions...

Time Limit

Time speaks to everyone with
an imaginary marker
of when bereavement will pass
ebb and flow
tidal waves of emotion
we all know the pull of a full moon
with a logical place as the surge is rearranged
from high to low
like the precision of a well crafted watch
only sorrow doesn’t play by the same practical rules
friends may step away when life moves on
six months seems long enough
for the space between memories
that fade into an extended sequence
until it is no longer a day to day thought
but for me it’s not a matter of day to day
or hour to hour
it’s a constant stream
that has a beginning
but no end
like the obscurity of the cosmos
soaring to a place
with no perception of gravity
or direction…

Potential

Drawn out nights gently unfold
into sunrise, subtle glow
reaches up and beyond
the eastern horizon
potential of a new day
Long Island shore line
will not eclipse my view
unexpected moments
stretch beyond the usual
marvel is an amazing thing
when a small child looks up
smiles as if they could trust
every word or thought
that could occur between
the innocent and the corrupt~

© 2008 Pamela Viscomi Yates