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

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

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

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

Taxi Driver

What to say when a question is posed
Like a bull in a China shop…
The only answer lay dumbfound-ed on the tongue of an exiled wise-ass   
“So, uh what about you, dating yet or uh, anything…?”  
That is how the question game begins
Twisting in the wind via self-preservation, defensiveness… and
A touch of whatthefuck –
One way ticket directly to Hell
Do not pass go or collect two hundred dollars…
Just answer the question and hit the high road, get out of Dodge
A fast train to…no where 
The reply is not as quick witted as a sniper's shot
Answers flying solo on the wrong side of the road
While the stakes are higher still as Park Avenue never crosses Broadway
And the mortgage was lost on a free toss...Dooms Day 1929
Spin the wheel of fortune, on the down beat I can name that tune
Just the slightest hint and charades is no longer much of a challenge
Along with finding the misplaced Shroud of Turin
In a small apartment on the lower side of Tribeca
At a film festival that draws only an exclusive crowd
While a slight echo bounces around the inside of my head
For a writer I find myself at a complete loss for words....
So in my best De Niro I take aim and fire…

“…you talkin to me?” 

© 2015 TrilbyYates 

Distant Drummer

Tiny pearls of wisdom
worn like a thorny crown
fall delicately
and lay in contrast
against tanned skin
of a woman's breast;
who once held
a passion for love
in the palm of her hand
As a sea breeze 
dances around her,
her precious soul floats
along the widows walk
without intent
Subtleties of a moment
captured like 
a ship in a bottle;
slight slip of sand
beneath her bare feet
Yet, she can still hear
the music in the wind
as it carries her heart
to that distant drummer
and hope is always there,
always on the up beat… 

© 2015 TrilbyYates 

Jazz Man's Song

Notice the tide rolling
with the punches
not the way I do
battling life’s challenges
sea foam tossed in the air
strong Atlantic breeze
blows the tender sound
of the Jazz Man
always reminding me of home
looking out beyond the horizon
the sea never comes to an end
unlike the sweet songs
that are carried by the wind
from strumming fingers
on strings of gold
stirring up seashells
while conjuring images
bare feet running on the sand
you unknowingly remind me
with a riff now and then
that off in the distance
as the notes rise above
the tide will come and the tide will go
sometimes high and not always low

...play me another song my sweet Jazz Man

© 2015 TrilbyYates

Let It Go

Saw myself 
running 
in my dreams 
Heard the crash 
of the rising tide 
Like a child's lullaby 
I let its soothing sound 
rush up 
and rush over me
And in the loneliest 
moments
I knew  
there really wasn't 
much left to do 
...but let it go, 
let it go 
Looking up 
into the deepest 
blue sky 
never found a reason
or wondered why
But in the loneliest 
moments
time stood still
and I was mesmerized 
by the deepest blue 
in the clarity 
of your eyes 
- And there we were
just you and me 
standing hand in hand 
rising tide rushing up 
and rushing over 
you and me 
Hand in hand rising tide 
and I knew 
there really wasn't 
much left to do 
but let it go, let it go
...I let it go

© 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

A Generation Of Fuck Ups

We may be of
A different blood line
We are sister friends
Of a similar kind
And as far as 
Fuck ups go
On a scale 
Of one to ten 
We are an odd 
Yet profound eleven 
...and while you 
Laugh at me 
We both know 
I bring a smile
To your mouth
And nothing else 
Truly matters
Our world 
Seems to be 
...a flat disc 
That has been
Shot bulls eye
Into another level 
An organic sphere
...at times
Dark hole 
Transparency 
Glistening light  
Penetrates 
With a pure abundance 
Of beauty
Blinded by
Our own delight
You glance away 
Eye contact 
...is painful 
Fear they can see 
Into your soul 
Truth be held high 
Truth be told 
Glimmering images
Reflect and shine
Close your eyes 
I will open mine
The thoughts 
You think 
...I can hear
Volumes of silence
There is a link
They hold a power 
And a strength 
So we will blow out the candles
Turn the music down low
We will dance...and sing
Hips swaying 
From side to side 
Fingers snap 
In the abstract
Lost in the absence 
Of logic or sound
We have no reason
To hoover or hide
We are Women
A Generation Of Fuck Ups 
And we wear our title 
With gallantry and pride!

© 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 

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

Mojo Kicking In

Slipping off pseudo
Dr. Freud's leather couch
$250 an hour
to soothe
my fevered brow
- ease a weary
torn soul
from thoughts
and memories
demons haunting past
that push the limits
crowding the 3rd eye
- blind
to a convoluted
way of life...
nothing travels
in a straight line
moving again 
and again
as the moon
swings around
the the earth
such a grandiose plan
- embroidered pillow sham
cushions my fall
landing on my knees
- a view you always preferred
looking down
from high above
the 69th floor
ivory towers crumble
...ashes to ashes
like silk intimates
dusting over
my body's curves
temperature rises
a tiny drop of sweat
slowly descends
a path downward
between
my breasts
You reach out...
slight of hand
smoke and mirrors
you are a master
 - of innocence
in its highest art form
hot red lights disguise
dark smooth skin
while guitar mesmerizes
with a 13 bar riff
sweet seductive harp
blowing upstage
rhythm and blues
pulsates a steady beat
that keeps time
an infamous bump and grind
wrapping itself around my body
like a sweltering sexy summer breeze
deep sigh - comfort zone
we begin to fly
another song and a shot of VO
there is no time lost
when your Mojo is kicking in
questions lingering from the past
sassy blues - idiosyncrasies
and contradictions
good times falling on bad
judgment days and cross roads
someones woman is waiting
in the the wind, you slip out
the back door - Johnny
Man...living blues
...it's all about living the blues

© 2014 TrilbyYates

Red Vinyl

Static New York accents float
With abrasive intent throughout the diner -
Burnt smoky bacon thick cut it with a knife
Smell fills the air
Bouncing off cracked 
Half-assed some kind of repair 
Duct tapped red vinyl booth seats 
Screaming 1950's decor reminiscent of happier days
Attaching its vibration to anyone that happens to be
An unfortunate victim of being in the wrong place 
At the wrong time - syndrome 
You slide into position and begin tapping 
A methodical rendition of Bo Diddle
On any adamant object that is slightly stationary 
Always reaching its full potential of
...fucking annoying as hell... 
While the Juke Box hungers for another quarter
Never noticing the grimace expression 
on the waitress's Onedrinkandsmoketomany dog-eared complexion
Temples pulsating thoughts deliberate
If only we could read her mind
My money's on...just another asshole...
And you keep trying to make her smile
Pulling the pencil from behind her left ear 
Eyes glazed over lack of luster
"...what'll ya have Mac?"
- the big hand goes around...tick, tick...
Snapping gum between cynical questions
Same old answers day after day
"One more cup of Joe for the road..."
Just another...dumbassedstupidfucking reply
Overloaded waitress brain freeze -


© 2014 TrilbyYates

Forgiveness

Too much time 
has passed 
I've forgotten 
the words 
to some of the 
best songs
I have ever 
written 
And it is 
a damn shame 
when the lyrics
and rhythm 
dissipate 
into the wind 
like a fog 
or puff 
of steamy vapor 
A transparent 
...never really able to grasp at straw sense of loss 
Today feels 
more like 
a sand storm 
than a cold blast 
from the arrival 
of a premature winter 
The wind blows harder 
then it used to
Penetrating to the bone
...to the core
A chill reactionary shiver
Head to toe - spinal slip
Or maybe 
I've just lost 
some of my rough 
and tumble exterior 
My roll 
with the punches 
attitude 
My high 
and mighty air 
Protective gear 
upgrade overload
maxed out 
vinyl covered 
faux leather
side stepping boots
And there are issues 
that tare at my heart 
Yanking the strings 
out of my chest 
without any 
sense of 
responsibility 
or remorse
Out of tune and off beat
Ear bleeding burn
Praying on all fours 
in the background
...back alley
...back bar low-brow
Setting my soul ablaze 
Forgiveness 
is a learned art 
Each step 
is outside the realm 
of what could
have been 
a natural trait 
Or simply nurtured 
via circumstance...

© 2014 TrilbyYates

Wise Ass Kid

Those days 
When thoughts 
Swirled around 
In my mind 
Creating an energy 
Cause and effect 
Suddenly out of thin air 
A call or note 
Song from the past
A nudge from
Turbulent times
A cosmic force connects 
A reminder tap tap
You can never go back
Although I lean on the belief
Nothing is set in stone
Except birth and death
Those sweet innocent days
Are few and far between
So be careful who you 
Day dream about 
Strangers appear 
In familiar garb
Time passes snap
and mindful images 
Never seem to fade 
Wishful thinking 
Is an independent luxury 
Like a journey to an exotic
Far away unknown land 
Scrolling through photographs 
and tag lines eyes blur to focus
Wondering playfully - pause
What's going to happen next 
The wheels turn slower 
and the clock ticks louder 
Adjusting the bar downward
Dragging realistic wants and needs
Lacking subtle expectations 
To an abrupt unexpected halt 
Gears jam and all I can do 
Is scream profanities into a void
Pathetic reminiscent childlike questions
and obscene childlike gestures
Blurted out with no rational
Like a wise ass kid hanging 
On any city street corner
In any city in the world
Unique - not unto its own
Self absorbed truth seeker
Asking why always why
As if expecting some profound
Heavenly answer to fall peacefully
Settling at my feet
Like a feather from the nest
Pride is a virtue
Ego is a vice  
I continuously stumble around
Exhausted from the battle
My internal war rages on ...


© 2014 TrilbyYates

King And Queen Of The Prom

I can walk 
down the street 
with my wings glistening
in the moonlight
and my skirt hiked 
up to Heaven 
I can carry 
a tune 
and write 
the lyrics 
with my eyes 
glazed over 
from the lack 
of empathy 
One hit wonder
fly by night 
captivator 
feet never 
firmly planted 
on the ground
Surround sound 
and all that 
matters...
We were flying high 
We were invincible 
The king and queen 
of the prom 
neither went to
We were untouchable
Golden sparks flying 
into an endless night

We were flying high 
We were invincible 
The king and queen 
of the prom 
neither went to
We were untouchable
Golden sparks flying 
into an endless night 

© 2014 TrilbyYates

I Cry For You

Walking out knee deep
Fluid reflections glimmer
Walking out shifting sandbar 
Low tide is a slow rise 
The moon sits stoically
On a fine line drawn 
Across the horizon 
And I can only imagine 
What is beyond the curve 
Of this narcissistic planet - Earth 
Or the destination of shooting stars
First hand knowledge burn out
Slips beneath my own personal radar
The way love vanishes mysteriously
Into the stillness of a dark night
Or shutters as the light of day
Seeps into creases of awareness
Sudden winds blow like a cold slap
Chilling the hearts of lonely lovers
A harsh realization...bitter sweet
The dance leaves me senseless
Leaves me empty 
...I cry for you
East coast rainy Saturday 
Music playing in the background 
Lyrics that hit home 
Lyrics I should have written 
Back when life wasn't so convoluted
Flipping from page to page 
Familiar visions old photos 
Memories open the flood gates 
To those no longer here 
Outside of this sphere 
Loved ones that touched my heart...changed my life 
Loved ones and friends interchangeable affections 
East coast rainy Saturday
Leaves me empty 
...I cry for you

© 2014 TrilbyYates

It's Not How Many Notes You Play

It’s not how many notes
How many notes you play
It’s the spaces in between
Like lines between words 

Of woe or endearment
It's the silence 

That lingers in the air
Silence that lingers 

After making love
Spaces in between - lines, notes, words
Silence floats 

Peacefully above
Floats peacefully 

While lovers embrace
Quiet gentle embrace 

Where words
Like notes 

Are better left to linger
In the reverie 

Of perfection - unspoken
It’s not how many notes you play

It’s the spaces in between
It’s not how many words you say…

© 2014 TrilbyYates