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

Soothing Vibration

Early morning sun 
begins to wake up
Arm reaching yawn
splintered beams of light 
stretch across 
the horizon 
While a lazy lapping 
of the tide 
comes and goes 
repeating a pattern 
in perfect sync 
with the pull 
of the moon,
as it faithfully 
orbits the earth 
Off in the distance 
a curved line 
remains a constant
just outside of the rim
old and faithful
field of vision;
a focal point for reference  
some things remain eternal
- Sand and sea 
echo one another 
with peaceful chatter 
Soothing vibration
to an often bruised 
and battered mind 
in search of a safe haven,
if only for short 
periods of time 
Refreshing the core 
senses and humanity,
as the day to day 
chip away at even those 
more saintly in spirit;
wresting with their
own moral compass
The tempest shifts
across the shore 
Dancing fools shutter
pulling their collars up
A protective shield
from the perfection
of a storm brewing 
off in the distant future
Weather-vane continues 
to point due north
regardless of which
way the tides turn
or the winds blow...
- Sand and sea 
echo one another 
with peaceful chatter 
Soothing vibration
to an often bruised 
and battered mind 
in search of a safe haven
if only for short 
periods of time... 

© 2015 TrilbyYates



 

Looking Out To Sea

It was something 
something out of a movie scene
From Here To Eternity 
we were laying in the sand 
tide came up rushing over us 
all entangled arms and legs 
finger tips tracing 
a pathway to the soul 
your mouth on mine 
whispering words 
...you are so beautiful 
so beautiful...
kissing my neck 
gentle hands 
holding me close 
eyes closed
sensations like a hot wire 
and I heard a voice say 
I love you 
I love you...
and realized it was mine 
in that moment time stopped 
the tide went out 
and didn't come back in 
and we were standing 
looking at each other 
you had such a puzzled look 
on your face 
a puzzled look 
and I apologized 
I'm sorry 
I'm sorry 
I didn't mean to say that 
I don't love you 
I like you 
I care about you 
but I don't love you...like that 
you just stood there 
with a puzzled look 
on your face 
and I knew 
it was not you I saw 
it was him 
and I'm sorry for that 
it wasn't you I was looking at 
it was him 
and the tide went out 
and didn't come back in 
and I was standing there alone 
looking out to sea
looking out to sea

© 2014 TrilbyYates  

Dazzling My Senses

All the human elements 
lined up with perfection
- the tangible and the abstract...
The underlying passions and dreams;
the insecurities and vulnerabilities - risk factors 
We all have our fantasies
tucked away quietly at times,
joyful exhilaration at others - how risqué
- slightest blush at the thought
I tumbled willfully without intention
into a gentle comforting place
as if magically conjured up 
by some unknown source;
Moirai song of fate 
pleasantly lulling away 
any sense of fear - or logic
Surprised how perfectly 
your hand fit into mine;
sand and sea - intoxicating...
A sense of knowing reassured
an unwillingness to turn away
Admitting that sometimes
I fall down the rabbit hole - with eyes wide
Alice In Wonderland's flawed belief
questioning all that is good 
and all that is grand,
all that is outstanding 
and unique - simply sublime
Smiling at the familiarity 
acknowledged by the look in your eyes
My life has become a free fall 
 - with no expectations
Allowing me to keep clear 
of becoming judgmentally minded
So while thunder storms 
and high humidity swirled around us 
dazzling my senses...
 - you leaned in and kissed me once more ~

© 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 

There Is No Place

Jump from the train
grabbing hold 
of a high wire 
Harry Houdini greatest
one man act...
Nothing swings 
like the sound coming
from an old horn player -
sweet baby lullaby
the cradle will certainly fall!
When my heart burns
and the thrill 
of flying above 
the natural wisdom
of women better than I 
perched above 
common sense 
I will let it go.
One finger at time...
falling to sand and stone
ashes to ashes
dust to dust
there is no place
to call home.
Clasping hands together
repetitive words wither 
while hope lingers
that prayers 
will be answered
knowing full well 
you get what you give 
and you can only play the cards 
that are dealt...
You can't cheat 
the house no matter how
hard you try.
So with that and 
a tender touch of sarcasm 
I'll blow the whistle
holding each note 
like a new born child
and move on.
No looking back.
Regrets 
are for those 
with a conscious,
embedded 
in guilt ridden 
soul seeking 
homeopathic remedies...
that only work for believers.


© 2014 TrilbyYates

 

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 

Sleep Doesn't Come

Bits and pieces 
golden flecks rainbow 
colors 
twirl with delight 
notes and verse 
sing from high 
above 
majestic vibrations 
rattle the senses 
dripping 
deep red blood 
stained holy water 
sprinkled over me
clear blue sky
reflection pool
ripple effect
heart to stone
visions shadow
my private thoughts
....sleep doesn't come
Drum beat 
blue moon 
dancing 
in the sand 
summer sounds 
mesh 
artistic liberty stolen
oh how the wind 
does blow 
worries hover 
hand in hand 
carefree wishes 
to and fro 
gilded cages
self proclaimed
virtuoso 
jack of all trades
master of none
who holds you 
when
...sleep doesn't come ~


© 2013 Trilby

Glowing In The Wind

Looking away 
from the coast 
line drawn 
in the sand 
off in the distance 
flat beat 
of another song 
leaves me 
breathless 
hope 
is an addiction 
that bleeds 
ambivalence remains 
with choices made 
walk away 
or glide 
fly high 
or dig in 
depth of despair 
is a drag
old wounds 
don't heal 
they just gradually 
fade away 
when the time 
is right 
unstructured texture 
colors glisten
and life
is no longer
a candle
glowing in the wind... 

© 2013 Trilby

Shifting Sand

Looking out 
beyond the reef 
beyond the minds 
bend 
toward the horizon 
imaginations 
play sweet 
harmonious lullabies 
of days gone by 
and the best 
are yet to come 
somewhere 
out there 
tides will rise 
shifting sand 
carry footprints
out to sea
memories 
a gentle reminder 
that we are 
merely mortal 
after all 
end of the day 
nothing will 
remain the same 
eyes close 
drift away 
to a place 
now and then
the future 
holds a bright light
leading the way
gentler times
left behind
cherish the moments
of promise and forever 
permeating the senses 


© 2013 Trilby

Will Never Know

Stress level up 
hits a high 
not even time 
to peak 
from beneath 
the end zone 
of what 
has yet to come 
when all else fails 
there is no way 
out 
but 
to pull the 
cord 
on an empty 
parachute 
while silver 
spoons 
line lip stick 
shades drawn 
childlike images 
willow branches 
bending
quiet summer 
breeze 
wisps of clouds 
covered smoke 
cinder blocks 
fall 
to the point 
of absurdity 
and tho 
the mind 
has slowed 
and often 
skips a beat 
from time 
to off time 
in those profound 
instances 
when nothing is known 
and everything else 
is  sheer 
propaganda 
Photoshop splits 
the facts 
reality is less and less 
a common thread 
from living life 
to walking a fine 
line 
of faith and understanding 
what you did
what someone told
And as the Tower of Babble 
wags 
another tale
take me 
down paths
of "milk and honey"
with the promise
silk linens thread 
count 
grains of sand 
slipping passionately
through my fingers
lovers seldom bought 
and never grow old 
my hands begin to tremble
and I am aware once again
... of what I will never know...


© 2013 Trilby

Cali Redhead And Witch Fest...

We flew to California to celebrate life with our sister witch. Emotions were mixed as we partied like there was no tomorrow, knowing there may not be. Hugs and kisses, tears were kept at bay - we pray the next medical plan keeps our littlest witch with us for a very long long time!

No time for tears Glinda, we will smile and laugh - share a bottle of wine, a bit of this and that. Music, walks on the beach, good food, good friends - old and new...bluebird skies mentality in Laguna Beach, CA.

Photographs and Fantasies ~ August 2011

Ari ~ Summer Daze ~ August 2011

Umbrella and Clouds - August 2011

Swinging In The Rain - Penfield Beach August 2011

Yellow Slicker - August 2011

Calm Before The Storm - August 2011

All photographs by Trilby Yates     

© 2011 Trilby Yates

Rambling thoughts...

Fair Winds and Following Seas

Sea breeze, a few glasses of wine
conversations that go astray
loose lips sail ships
from the traditional
“…what if’s…”
“…would you…”
promises
ragging fears come to light
while other’s are put to bed
love is not a link
to a chain that binds
but the feather’s
in an angel’s wings
taunting us to fly
and as we hold on tight
wrapped in a blanket of disguise
as if this would be the last time
there is never a second guess
to where passion will take us

wishing always…

"Fair Winds and Following Seas."

********************************

Heart Stings

Tide shifts with continuity
Highs and lows of a new moon
Float among stars and planets
While tugging on heart strings
Like the notes from a guitar
Songs reflecting a sentimental mood
Creating new memories
While kisses stir the soul
Shinning a light on the potential of another day
Filled with smiles and moments
That cause pause and question
The unpredictable likelihood
Of lust and/or passion
With or without a connection
Between two souls
While ambivalence and tentativeness
Lead the way

***********

Taxi Driver

What to say when a question is posed
Like a bull in a China shop…

The only answer lay dumbfound 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 sharp shooter
Answers flying solo on the wrong side of the road
While the stakes are higher still as Park Avenue blends with Broadway
And the mortgage was lost on a free toss of the dice...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 south side of Tribeca
At a film festival that draws an exclusive crowd

While a slight echo bounces around the inside of my curve
For a writer I find myself at a complete loss for words....
So in my best De Niro...take aim - fire…

“…you talkin to me…”

******************************

Red Balloon

A fine line between what is said
and what is meant
when passion hides
behind well wishes and glances
on the other side of friendship
and no one knows better
than Madame Bovary
if love will come or
love will go
the extra mile or
fade off into a slow burn
sun rises and sets
with each lie that innocently
drips from lips of gold
like spilt wine from high end crystal
visions of happily ever after
play out in the perfection of a Truffaut flick
and optimism is a red balloon
that is chased after and never caught…

unobtainable high…

© 2009 Trilby Yates

A "Peace" of Heaven on Earth

Fall in Amagansett - I went there alone and stayed at my friend’s summer house. Amagansett is in the Hampton’s on Long Island, NY. Their house is very beautiful, cozy and about a block away from the ocean. All the roads to the ocean are sand and it’s a wonderful short walk to the beaches. It was so quiet and peaceful, just what I needed.

The ocean is powerful, amazing and calming...I spent hours walking the beach, even though it was cold and windy I didn't mind.

I had just lost my husband a few weeks earlier and I felt like I couldn't breathe and I didn't want to go far, but I knew that I needed to be alone. For almost a year I was on "auto-pilot" and when he died I stayed in "auto-pilot" - it was almost as if I didn't know how else to be.

The beginning of my crash was the second day in Amagansett just around sunset. I was walking the beach and fell apart. I cried and cried, sat down in the sand and sobbed until I was exhausted. For a long time I sat there and looked out, listened to the never ending sound of the waves crashing along the shore and felt completely void. I wasn't lonely, I was empty.

Almost six months later and I'm still trying to find myself and a way to continue on and adjust to being without Jerry.

© 2008 Pamela Viscomi Yates