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

No Beginning No End

I take words like a source of energy 

spinning them into a beautiful telling novella 

emotional roller coaster ride 

power ball spin into the heavens

They have no beginning, they have no end 

I gently lay them out on a vaporous

black velvet texture-less veil

the words pop like firecrackers 

sparks fly intentions soar 

and if they don't I toss them into a golden cup 

shake them up and throw them out again and again

They have no beginning, they have no end  

I take my pen a relic transformed 

into a thin strand of silver thread 

weaving it in and out stinging words together 

like an artist would create a master piece 

from the heart beating pulse blood soaked 

revealing reaching the depths of the soul

They have no beginning, they have no end  

I carry my treasured

translucent fixations 

ebb and flow emotions

my world of words

has no beginning 

it has no end

© 2016 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

Connect

There are times when you meet someone 
 - and there are no words spoken 
There is no agenda 
There is no preconceived notion 
There is that first look 
That first visual forever etched into the mind
The color of the eyes - not even a smile 
or glint of wonder
Just a simple clear sense of connect 
And even if that "connect" doesn't move 
from here to there or ever go anywhere
Other than remaining in that split second;
 - that moment in time
It holds a power all unto its own 
And when the words are spoken 
and a smile is shared...his eyes blue - mine brown 
All is noticed and it remains still and quiet
And will never move beyond the ancient walls 
of Firenze, Italia.


© 2015 TrilbyYates

Move Through You

I would love 
to move through you 
To see what you see 
To switch it up 
without the knowledge 
or fallout 
Have the ability 
to fall madly in love 
with you 
...with the simplicity 
to detach 
from that love 
with ease 
To hold on 
so tightly 
with a feeling of 
"I've just seen God..." 
To letting go 
with a sense of 
"...to close for comfort!" 
Take a deep breath 
sigh of relieve 
Freedom blustering high 
No strings 
No albatross dangling 
like a piece of cheap jewelry 
hanging around my neck - 
I would love 
to move through you 
To see what you see 
To switch it up 
without the knowledge
or fallout 
Have the ability 
to fall madly in love with you
fall madly in love with you...

© 2015 TrilbyYates

Word Flow Vice

There is a sense 
of dread lingering
deep dark longing 
wrapped tightly 
suffocating 
to the point 
of paralysis 
I do not pause 
or hesitate 
Fear is not a driving force
Narcissistic identity bender,
insanity root of inspiration,
and subconscious driving force
...maybe 
I have my words,
my pen and paper;
sword of sorts 
And when I am alone 
in this place of anonymity 
it remains a surreal 
untouchable source of truth 
and provocative profanity - 
I do not hide 
behind my words 
Yet - I struggle to speak 
As each layer 
is painstakingly 
torn away,
tiny pieces of my soul 
are revealed 
And as the reader 
may skim over this page,
little does one know 
what turmoil lie beneath 
each dotting of an "i"
or crossing of a "t" - 
Searching for perfection 
in an imperfect way,
to translate thought,
mindful imagery 
to a more tangible form 
The written word
scratched on a piece of paper 
shreds of detail 
pieced together
Patterns scattered about;
brilliant creation 
Something to view 
Something to think about 
And thou it is never enough
and it is never completely complete 
Even as the words begin to move 
into a slow-go finality,
there remains an endless well 
of inspiration...word flow vice

© 2015 TrilbyYates   

Death Of A Female Poet

Slipping away
Into a sweet space
Reverie peace maker
Holds my hand
Feather bed comfort
Safe haven soothsayer 
Fluffy white pillows
Lavender and lace
Lulling me into
A deep sleep
Dreams in sepia
Hints of color
- and a spray
Of black and white
Vintage montage
In the powerful Atlantic air
I am standing high above
Second floor balcony
Overlooking the Saugatuck River
Noon sun burning in the sky
Letting it all in with eyes shut
A better way to see
All the magical images
Encompassing me
- and off in the distance
Someone is picking up
A loaded gun, taking aim
- and shooting at me
1st shot center 3rd eye
2nd shot left of the heart
Pulsating blood beat
Words entwined
No rhythm no rhyme
Words suspended
There is no sense of time
- and as the light
Begins to shift and fade
I feel everything
A rush of sweetness
- and surrender
A loss of fear
A loss of rage
- and as the high tide
Murky Saugatuck waters
Begin to flow over me
Pushing beyond
The eternal waves
Floating into a deep grey sea
The Long Island Sound
Is singing my name
- and welcoming me...Woman Of The Page

© 2014 TrilbyYates 

Footsteps Of Angels - HWL

Asked and answered - if I had been from another era and had the talent to write the words with such divinity; I would have channeled my pain, closed my eyes and let the emotions flow from my heart to my finger tips forming such beauty...I would have written and spoken these words for you.
(12/14 TY)

Footsteps Of Angels

When the hours of Day are numbered,
And the voices of the Night
Wake the Better soul, that slumbered,
To a holy, calm delight;
Ere the evening lamps are lighted,
And, like phantoms grim and tall,
Shadows from the fitful firelight
Dance upon the parlor wall;
Then the forms of the departed
Enter at the open door;
The beloved, the true-hearted,
Come to visit me once more;
He, the young and strong, who cherished
Noble longings for the strife,
By the roadside fell and perished,
Weary with the march of life!
They, the holy ones and weakly,
Who the cross of suffering ore,
Folded their pale hands so meekly,
Spake with us on earth no more!
And with them the Being Beauteous,
Who unto my youth was given,
More than all things else to love me
And is now a saint in heaven.
With a slow and noisless footstep
Comes that messenger divine,
Takes the vacant chair beside me,
Lays his gentle hand in mine.
And he sits and gazes at me
With those deep and tender eyes,
Like the stars, so still and saint-like,
Looking downward from the skies.
Utter not, yet comprehended,
Is the spirit's voiceless prayer,
Soft rebukes, in blessings ended
Breathing from his lips of air.
O, though oft depressed and lonely,
All my fears are laid aside,
If I but remember only
Such as these have lived and died!

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The Edge

Cafe Dark Nights 
For the sleek and slender
Of mind and heart
The scent of cappuccino
And espresso brewing
Poured seductively
Into delicate imported
Fine China cups
Intellectual chatter floats
As light as a feather
From table to candle lit table
With a Beatnik snap
Of the fingers - an antiquated signal
Of artistic approval
Long pause and a deep sigh
Your body brushes past
My emotionally charged senses
And a mental note is made
The mind surrenders
To a fantasy land 
Of black seamed silk stockings
And hard passionate kisses
A scene from Cabaret 
We make the best
Of last chances - one more time
As provocative poetry is read
The spoken word brings life
And added ambiance to the candle light
Burning your eyes into mine
Your hand belongs in mine
Such a perfect fit
Like a Gucci glove that costs - too much
But we have been willing - to spend
What we don't have
What we can't afford
With hope and optimism
The next step is casually mentioned
Never seeing the light of day
Because we both know
The high price of living
So close - to the edge

© 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 

Reminisce With Fondness

If the stars had been aligned 
and the winds blew 
a gentler breeze from the east 
crossing over the Sound
arriving on lands end
and a full harvest moon 
had been on the rise 
maybe then 
we would have realized 
life is a short seductive story 
bitter sweet at times
and the best is not always 
yet to come...
Knowing all too well 
that the here and now 
hold all the glory 
of star gazing moments 
that capture the heart 
and move the soul
to pleasant tears
and to never let go...
Even with all odds
against us
swimming with the tide
sentiments unknown
on this first day of spring 
thoughts wander 
the imagination drifts 
like a message in a bottle 
floating out to sea 
our secret love poems
entwined with devotion 
cherished times of holding hands 
and kisses deep into the night...

I do reminisce with fondness ~ 

© 2014 TrilbyYates   

Empty

Holding words so close 
they burn finger tips 
pen to paper hollow lips
the power of silence 
written expression 
lacking the gift of gab 
simple shades of regression
leave me empty...

© 2013 Trilby

November Chill ~ 2011

Mind Bending

“Darlin you have the voice of an angel…”
eyes twinkle with starlight and words so smooth,
so very smooth
they cause pause and reflection
that only the holy
and anointed
dare stare without hesitation
and in a divine moment,
a split second,
a NY minute counted backwards is short changed,
slipped his hand into mine
stole a single thread of golden light
that circled around my naiveté
angel wings plucked
from high above
leaving minuscule reflections
of tiny glistening pieces –

...no regret.

photo by Ari Mygatt 2011

photo by Ari Mygatt 2011

© 2011 Trilby Yates - all photographs taken by TYates unless otherwise noted.