Pretty Girls

Off to my right somewhere deep
within a void of empty space
time lapse shifting gears reverse
I can hear voices
silly chatter from Pretty Girls
silly chatter that is reminiscent
of days gone by
like a sledgehammer
coming down on me
slamming against my brain
opening old wounds
the ones hidden deep inside
wrapped tightly within layers
of insecurities, fears and sins
cardboard box 
gift wrapped - no silk ribbon
no celebratory greeting card
I love you, Anonymous
camouflaged like a soldier
hiding from the enemy
always under fire
under the microscope
of drones and starlight
Pretty girls with long finger tips
full lips - hair glistening
under florescent lights
silly chatter, laughter floats 
above what doesn't matter
innocently oblivious to surroundings 
- with a different bend
a swift perspective
judgment call
from all sides up, down
uncomfortable shift
eyes hide - good, bad, evil
"Who the fuck do you think you are…"
- attitude vents from obscurity
obvious distraction, stumbled upon
left foot slips from the sidewalk
and all is not lost on a few
patience runs thin
and memories are a flip-book
out of real time - out of sync
Pretty Girls smile with sincerity
at someone on the other side
hand tremble coffee spill
morning rush hour trip up
who knew what was buried
deep inside could be so easily 
uncovered by the silly chatter 
of Pretty Girls… 

© 2015 TrilbyYates

Small Boy Tender

Small boy tender child 

Wide brown eyes 
With an angelic smile… 

That could melt butter

 - in his mouth

While dripping sweet 

Saccharine like words 

Of lies and deceit 

One push 

Slight of hand 

Reaches out 
To be held 

 - poor little sister

Cracked skull

Echoed cries 
and life 

...swing in the balance

Baby dolls
 - toy guns 

Put away 
For safe keeping

Time capsule 

Records sealed 
To protect 
“innocence”

Carefully wrapped

In newsprint 
from 1965

Is no longer 
A figment 

Of Freud’s imagination

While sharing 
The mid night oil 

With the likes 
of Jean Piaget

A child’s dream

…small boy tender child 

Wide brown eyes 
With an angelic smile… 

Our love fans 
the flame
Desire fuels 
the fire 

We have a slow 
Dance of our own

Following the rhythm 

Of a distant 
...drummer

And I’m tearful 

When old photos 

seem to fade

Yet your words 
Move through me 

Like the hum 
Of a warm guitar

With the harp blower 
 - vibrating

There is not a breath 
taken...between us

As he holds onto 
That infamous note 

Like a one hit wonder

A precious soul
Small boy tender child 

Wide brown eyes 
With an angelic smile… 

Careful not to 
rush the beat

Reminiscent 
of a frantic lover

Maintaining 
the perfection 

- of our love song
Small boy tender child 

Wide brown eyes 
With an angelic smile… 

That could melt butter

 - in his mouth

While dripping sweet 

Saccharine like words 

Of lies and deceit ~ 

© 2014 TrilbyYates 

Beach Boys

Hot steamy summer day...not a cloud in the sky; brilliant blue dome of color - a slight breeze floats by on the up beat of a song dancing through the air; off in the distance sailboats lean, lean, lean stretching canvas and rails dip in the salty sea - flashback summer sweat dripping kisses...glorious sight makes my heart race.

Beach scene high tide, scent of coconut oil is like a time chaser – burst of images black and white, Kodachrome edited memories. Families, babies, teens, college kids, Gran and Pop - fill the sandy shoreline with souvenir beach towels and beach chairs; radiant red, seafaring blue and lemon yellow umbrellas adorn the landscape making up an amazing painters pallet. Aroma therapy and visual overload - in this surrounding I am thrilled to be alive!

Strategically placing myself on the fringes – a space between me and the masses. A buffer from all the chatter and one on one contact - my comfort zone just left of everything and nothing - with one foot hanging over the edge; acting as an anchor keeping me from wandering to far out in an endless sea. A beach day to listen to music - drifting away on notes and combinations of words; all stirring emotions and pushing fantasies for later creative use – deep breath in/exhale - blow. Moments of "shear poetry".

A group of three “t’ween” boys invade my peripheral vision and my solitude. Soft images flurry past, intense energy…carrying plastic beach shovels – with definite intentions. There were no words exchanged, an innate plan was brewing and clearly understood by all participants.

As much as I tried to ignore this group of adolescent males, (they reminded me of boys from my past) it was impossible...I was captivated by the "boys club" dance - and felt privy after so many years being on the outside secretly looking in, never understanding what made them tick and now I had a clear up front view - camouflaging myself behind a pair of sunglasses instead of my naiveté . 

Quickly personalities started to pop...the shy one, the leader, the funny boy - these roles seemed set in stone, not interchangeable. Each knew their character and played it uncomfortably well. Pigeon holed for a moment in time.

I sat back, shades on, ear-buds in and observed with delight!

The boys started to dig a hole in the sand, within 30 minutes it was clearly going to be a very large hole. Occasionally a group of "t' ween" girls would slowly walk past; seemingly ignoring the boys...a little flip of their hair, arms linked and giggles...boys reacting, doing boy things - they jumped in the 4' deep hole, threw sand at each other, swore and laughed and dug faster as if they were just injected with high levels of testosterone.

The girls circled around several times, swishing their feet into the sand, hips swaying overly exaggerated this way and that as they walked by. Flirtatious glances exchanged, occasional eye contact and then the uncontrollable bursts of blushing red covered cheeks were a dead give away. A vision of pure innocent seduction; beach boys from long ago...summer in the city. Motown playing and dancing on the sidewalks - sweet delicious memories.

Off in the distance songs from the concession stand began to play summer songs, the hit list...Heatwave, Under The Boardwalk, Girl From Ipanema, In The Summer Time...on and on drum beat, finger snapping melodies swept me away finally into a deep sleep...

© 2014 TrilbyYates 

Focused Suffragette

Old photographs
Father front center
Children in awe
eyes wide
Mothers hands
tightly folded
sepia images
wrapped
neatly
pieces of linen
loosely regarded
memories
change with
the passing
of time
tied with a
tender touch
obsessive perfection
silk ribbon
once brilliant
sapphire
shade of blue
faded edges
similar
to the way
stories
of the past
tend to do
vintage lace
layering each
tale told 
in style
blushing vignette
perfection
each stitch
secrets hold
needle point
painstakingly 
finger prick
passive aggressive
avoidance
of a world
where Women
sat quietly
polite nod
to the rare
occasion
a question
may be posed
aim without intent
inconsequential
silence
focused suffragette 
...Women of a certain day

© 2013 Trilby  

Life Line Snap

I am a one liner
cliche
oblivious daydreamer
fantasy shaker
one foot in front of the other stumbling block
self proclaimed prophet to the faithless
magnificent enemy of a higher order
I am identifiable
puff of vaporized humanity
sexuality twist
gender bender
fraudulent soul seeker
status disclaimer
lacking moral compass deformity
stolen innocence imposter
race confused
bouncing reflector
Black, White, Yellow, Red
once in a life time off beat charlatan
I walk, talk and live the consequence
broken chain torn bleeding heart
surrender to none
open book closed and shamed
baffled by my own confusion
eyes wise lessons yet to learn
crimson lips sink stolen ships
white knuckling way of life
blood soaked delusional story teller
love lacking compartmentalized wanderer
truth seeking denier
all is not lost when all is not found

...life line snap

© 2013 Trilby

Not Forgotten

Those days of laughter,
shared smiles,
a nod of knowing...
they aren't over yet 
are they?

Inquisitive questions
innocently posed in a way 
that only the high 
and mighty 
could possibly answer...

And when the heart 
feels even the slightest 
bit of anticipation  -
like a dove taking flight
...peaceful wings span,
joy and exhilaration 
occur when all is not lost 
or forgotten -

Resilience comes 
in many shades of blue,
profoundly humming
that loving tune...

The heart does not forget!

But, will fate step in?
...and as old tales are told 
like a wandering shepherd
searching from dusk til dawn
I could remain lost
forever alone...

When truly all I want 
is to feel the wind 
on my face - 
Feel the sand beneath 
my feet - 
Hear the sound of each note 
played -
Reach for your hand 
in the darkest of night 
and know...

We are not forgotten ~

Even if forbidden 
in a world of the faithful 
living faithless lives.

My choice 
to remain alone 
rather than settle 
for companionship.

To wait for
love so bold,
love that carries joy 
tenderly in each word 
volumes yet to be written 
in the deepest part 
of my soul worn and weary 
I continue to hold 
an open space for you -  

© 2013 Trilby 

Your Bracelet

A nondescript package 
arrived one day 
when the earth felt 
like it had stopped moving
and a continuous chill 
ran from my spine 
to the center of my chest 
breathing became a bore
without intention 
or respect
to slip away 
from coast to coast
shore to shore
would have been 
more than an effort 
time worthy energy spent
but here before me
a simple wrapping
revealing secrets 
sweet love affair
silver and gold 
lightening circles 
around and around 
sparks shooting 
memories 
across the sky 
flooding questions
who are you 
and who am I
prompting such 
sentimental remembrance
when time passes by
...I wear your bracelet
   
© 2013 Trilby

Dophins Fly

Melodious breeze blows
across the shore line
a song from long ago
whistles in the wind
Harp player glides
passed
sand filled shoes
staring into tomorrow
crystal ball floats by
far away
Block Island
hidden treasures
200 and counting
lost and found
seashells fall
from high above
seagulls soar
you lean into me
while the Captain
shouts ...coming about
far winds and following seas
echo in chambers
heart beat bounding
from the Sound
dances across the sky
half note and skipping stones
keeping an eye on the horizon
never changing
steadfast and true
a slight smile flickers
beloved memories
while off in the distance
dolphins fly beyond
mirrored images
of me holding hands with you...

© 2013 Trilby

I Am Lost

Deep in the night 
dreams chase 
whimsical songs
such sweet serenade 
dearest reverie 
your image 
never fades 
and I have found 
myself 
in bed 
with a stranger 
hands 
that do not fit 
words 
that cast shadows 
abstract rhetoric
does not ring true
Saint Christopher 
falling to the floor
I am lost...

Closing my eyes 
tranquility 
in the darkness
I feel you 
holding me close 
floating away 
in your memory 
safe and sound
once again... 

© 2013 Trilby

What's Missing...

"....it doesn't always have to be this way..."

Little voice inside my head
sings a song low key 
off beat far left of anywhere
slipping from addiction 
to obsession
no matter what rolls 
in or out with the tide
early morning light
shines ever so brightly
and the truth remains 
silent lovers tiptoe 
past an open shade 
never throwing shadows 
on black granite of your grave
tranquil vibrations of an open vein 
desire can dismantle 
better judgement 
left for another day
defenses up 
when times get twisted 
and decision can't be made...

I continue to question, what's missing...?

Time And Space...

I'm not going to get over you am I?
Silly question to ask, I know...but...still
There's a lot of time but no space between us...
I linger on and on while you float around watching over me
At least I think you do, I feel you...so it must be true
What would you say to me today?
If you can see from the clouds so high above to where I stand
Always on shaky ground 
Would you let me fall into your arms and weep?
Because that's what I need to do...fall
Wrap your love around the way you used to?
Kiss my lips while holding my face in your hands,
Gently brush away my tears,
Promise me how everything will be ok?
Promise you will always be with me,
Then, I didn't realize how you spoke in the abstract
How would this daydream of mine play out
If only I could mesh the two together...
Time and space... 

© 2013 Trilby

Summer breeze 2012

 Self portrait ~ Your Shirt

Warm breeze and sunshine
off in the distance is a sound
so familiar it makes me weep
whispers I love you
and sighs of contentment
leave me wandering
in rooms from the past
the day to day never dull
or mundane
the scent of you remains...
I wear your shirt 
arms wrapped around me
like a sweet song of love and devotion
melody penetrates my soul
comfort is held close in cotton and linen
threads of color and texture
you skip lightly through my thoughts
like dandelions blown from youthful lips
to wishes of promise and forever after -
is there a tomorrow with love and laughter
or simply windmills spinning in a storm
a bit of hope clouded in shades of gray
with a touch of lavender for all the maybes
but my heart hesitates
and my direction continues
in a consistent loop
of doubt and insecurities
grabbing hold of my inhibition
ruling my moral compass
and as I pretend to move forward
occasionally wishing for a lover 
reality remains the same
you were a perfect fit
to an imperfect woman
and now nothing else matters...

To JY always and forever love TY
Anniversary July 1

Christmas Eve 2011

I could pour my heart out
on this Christmas Eve
to the silence that surrounds
such a peaceful night
the way Dreaming Tree flows
from glass to mouth
and lips part
words weep
while memories dance around and around
like the twinkling of lights
that circle ornaments from the past
tales are told and stories will unfold
your photograph sits by my bedside
the tender moments never fade
and emptiness can rest at ease
as the minutes reliably tick by
days turning to years end
...beginnings will surely find tomorrow

JY love forever and always TY

© 2011 Trilby Yates

Ode To... July 2011

Howard Buzzutto (father) & Dorothy Buzzutto (daughter) 1950

Dorothy Buzzutto (1960)

Ode To Dorothy

Ode to the woman
that carried my name
that carried the ties that bind
if truth be told
the gentler times
are all that matter today
a day that time dissipates
into tears of joy
and memories reflect
tints of glorious color
while the sharpness
blurs into muted shades of gray
Ode to the woman
that held my heart with gentle hands
but never long enough
Ode to the wounded dove
that flies above
with curls and pearls
a fragile child’s dream

Ode to letting go,
to the natural flow
wisdom passed
from generation
to generation
babies growing stronger
and brighter

Ode to the woman, my mother
…to Dorothy

© 2011 Trilby Yates

Now and Then ~ July 1, 2011

Trilby Yates

Trilby Yates

Jerry Yates

Trilby and Jerry Yates

A lifetime ~ our lifetime.  An anniversary, dreams and memories ~
I'll always be with you...always...

Thoughts By The Bay ~ Spring 2011

Red Tulips, Coast of CT April 2011

Steadfast and Hold Tight

Looking out
beyond the bay
wind blows
brushing gently
across my face
carrying images
of not so long ago
when love and light
filled
my days
danced
through my nights
flowers in bloom
spring fever
a promise
for tomorrow
precious moments
of delight
while off
in the distance
sails are filled
with memories
another time
I recall your whispered words,

“I will love you forever, steadfast and hold tight…steadfast, hold tight…”

© 2011 Trilby Yates

Leaving Winter Behind...

The Highline NYC 2011

Old Neighborhood

Looking back,
Taking the first step forward,
Inhaling the old neighborhood
Deep breath...sigh...
Visual memories are like photographs
Some make me laugh,
Some move me to tears
While others tug at the heart strings
Slight smile turn the corners of my mouth…
Thought about you and
The way you would lie,
For a free smoke or a dime
Paper tigers and fireflies…
Led us down a potpourri of alleyways,
To the innocence of youths
Beautiful indiscretions
Turquoise eyes glowing in neon nights,
Making love in the back seat
Of abandon cars,
West Side Highway,
Or floating down Riverside…
I noticed you out of the corner of my left eye,
Still riding life on the flip side…
Reading postcards from another time

Looking back ~

Patty G lived in Apt. 2 B…
Anthony on the 9th floor,
Fire escape was a long way down…
Endless after midnight~
We shared the loss of our virginity,
And who’s who doing the 10th Ave shuffle…
Never quite making the grade,
But always a good time along the way~
Mrs. Vignetto chattered in Italian
As Mrs. Eisenberg would politely nod
Common bond Mothers united
As their son’s marched off to war
Your side, my side not much in between
Life in the 60's
Bitter sweet and indifferent -

© 2011 Trilby Yates

Fall 2009

Gentle Reminder

Slight rush of wind, gentle reminder, touch to the cheek… gentle reminder
Deep dreams, vivid color, love story, continuous waft …gentle reminder
Seasons slip, summer to fall, cool breeze, last sail…gentle reminder
Songs satisfy, empty spaces, lyrics ring true, tune, familiar hum…gentle reminder
Tender moments, sleepless nights, AM chatter, smiles kiss the sky…gentle reminder
Finger tips, poignant embrace, time and distance, union remains, forever the same …gentle reminder
Another moment, another day, incessant, without you as I lovingly drift off, fade away…gentle reminder…gentle reminder

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…

Sail Away With Me

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

Shore of Recollection

Take hold love
Aim into the wind
Quick get away
As darkness surrounds
Dimming light
Off in the distance
Where once you wrapped your arms around me
Kissed my face, forehead, eyes and lips
Visions are clear
Memories never fade
To that distant
Shore of recollection

© 2009 Trilby Yates