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 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

Mr. Who Knows Who

All that crazy anticipation 
build up and worry 
as if yesterday 
was a blank page 
And all the steps taken 
have somehow 
been washed away 
like footsteps in the sand - how cliche! 
I remember laughing 
about all those old sayings 
one night during a brief love affair
he filled my glass of wine up 
for the 3rd time 
smiling with such intent
saying, "Man, who are they trying to kid!
...rather have loved and lost 
than to have never loved at all - 
or, something like, if you set it free 
and it doesn't come back 
it was never yours to begin with..." 
Man what a kick
Man what a time 
for jokes and one liners
from men like Henny Youngman,
"I've been in love with the same woman 
for forty-one years 
if my wife finds out she'll kill me..."
The corners of my mouth 
turn up and I laugh -
so politically incorrect...yea no kidding man!
Even between all the laughter 
and long talks - we faded 
off in different directions 
but that wasn't a news flash
we both knew from day one 
nothing was going to come 
of what ever this was or wasn't 
just passing time 
drinking wine 
making love and laughing - 
sometimes we would
slow dance in the living room,
...candles flickering 
sexy shadows on the walls...
to some off the grid 
blues tune...
At the time everything was perfection 
in its own light - 
but, it was those long drives home 
late at night 
that set me free 
And now...I find myself 
walking to a bar in Brooklyn 
to meet Mr. Who Knows Who 
and for just a moment 
there is this rush 
the feeling of soft warm hands
occasionally touching mine -
We laugh and talk
as he fills up my glass 
of wine 
for the 3rd time...


© 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 

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

Twitter

Twitter – jump off – 8.21.12 to date and counting….

1 - His song is carried in the wind like a breath from a past filled with love

2 - I'm lost in a world of memories, music and thought - my words, my writing keep me sane...for the most part :)

3 - Q. Do you rhyme when you write your poetry? A. No, not something I intentionally avoid, it's just not part of my natural flow.

4 - Working on a new book...Widow's Walk...it has been suggested that it will be cathartic! My name is Trilby, I am a widow...

5 - Early Sunday morning the rain is falling wind blowing the empty space next to me woke me up...sounds of silence

6 - TV, internet, ipod, stereo, help quiet the...lack of...

7 - A new day...not much has changed...tides up, moved the room around...new view – life

8 - Scattered thoughts with one line that is steadfast, a common thread...a sense of loss shadows my days...shake free from it he whispers...

9 - Is there every a time when loss fades to fond memories? When a smile has laughter on the cusp? Soul singing, soul singing...longing words

10 - The feel of your hand in mine, a tender kiss, shared smile, eyes meet, a peaceful heart - you are here with me...I wake up confused...tears

11 - Two steps forward several steps back to a time when life was full of love you and me never enough time, now the weekends are too long...

12 - Our father who art in heaven, ourfatherwhoartinheavenourfatherwhoartinheaven...questions, pleading...no answer-silence...

13 - Oh to take that walk, look out to sunset, pink, purple harmonious - eyes meet, the perfection of a moment - then crumbs fall to the floor...

14 - Steps taken the past will follow, the heart lingers in tomorrow - stand still it will pass you by, blow kisses to the sky...

15 - September spirits gather, slight wind carries a song to you while October waits its turn to mourn - Fall, how appropriate..

16 - Bulls eye, right on target, nail on the head...you said it, I felt it...heart explodes into tiny pieces

17 - Empty spaces, between each line there is a void, a shadow dances in the night simply waiting for what will follow...

18 - Join the fight, tell my story, symbolic wrist band - bold words - FIGHT LUNG CANCER...words from an aching heart sound hollow...

19 - A tiny box, open slowly, a piece of paper folded neatly, placed inside. Unfold, words written. TY I love you and will always be with you JY

20 - Peeking from behind the shadows there is nothing but a hollow echo that bounces back and forth, back and forth...endless echo...bounce

21 - Guilt, guilt, every minute counts. Denial is a tool - keep the ticking time bomb tick-tock for another day. Oh to have those days back...

22 - From heart to head and back again...heart aches, head is the medicine that keeps the fever down and memories at bay...dream on love...

23 - Twin flame - to have experienced unconditional love and acceptance makes life cold and dark when the other flame has been blown out...

24 - Flowers in my hair, you would smile and kiss me...such an angel you would say while holding my hand as if time were slipping away...

25 - Memories are like little movies we can play over and over - black and white or in color, add music for special effect.

26 - Pray, plead, promise - beg, cry, scream and swear. Deny or accept. I'm convinced nothing can change the path we were on, NOTHING!

27 - There are a few things that help numb what has already died within...most are illegal...

28 - Laughter fades into the night as shadows turn from shades of gray to liquid silver sparking glimmers of light that seep into my heart.

29 - La dolce vita and a cup of espresso with the Pope, a ferry ride to any island, walk the beach, feel the sand the sun pouring light into love

30 - The heart weeps and opens wide the doors to self imposed Penance; just another Blues song with a touch of Lennon

31 - Cancer he says in a cold but yet humane way. A pro at dropping the bomb like a WWII 18 year old soldier in the cockpit of a B52.

32 - No looking back, visions are like memories being played over and over without a pause button for some sense of relief...

33 - Every second, every moment is etched in my mind - green eyes, promises, music, words, tears, touch, kiss, scent, love, fear, terror, loss

...to be continued...

© 2013 Trilby

Fall 2011

Steadfast and True

5 AM light flashes

cell phone buzz

just a reminder

there is a new day

a’ dawning

steadfast and true

and I can admit

there have been times

when the thought

was like the sound

of fingernails

to a chalkboard

dread shoots

between a fine line

up or down

depending on which way

the adrenaline flows

and just when I’m comfortable

in my own skin again

the calendar turns

the page and

staring me square

is another anniversary

of this or that

whatever keeps the heart

cemented in the past

and though I struggle

to set myself free

there is a warped

sense of comfort

in the familiar

the known

the well worn shirt

you left behind

wrapped around me

arms of yesterday

or knowing each riff

beat and break

like a deep breath

to a favorite love song

12 bars of sheer delight

steadfast and true

here in the calm

a slight haze

of sunlight

not completely

shinning through

hot cup of java

with a touch of honey

like a bee sting to my heart

I wonder if Jesus

would have jumped the track

to take back his last trip

to the garden

shifting fate to sheer coincidence

and while skipping stones

at your grave

bides the time

it’s not quite the same

spinning yarns

like spinning a tale

a web of better times

and poetic promise

stead fast and true…

© 2011 Trilby

Sunday ~ 6 March 2011

Self Portrait ~ October 2010

Womanofthepage

Oh to be
Virginia Woolf
for a moment
in time
when words flowed
creative process
encumbered by despair
precious pearls of wisdom
masked with conversation
sharing verse and wine with
the Bloomsbury Group
that freed a burdened soul
brilliant sorrow deep
a pocket full of rocks
and a long deliberate walk
off a short seductive pier
sinking deep
into the abyss
solidifying a place
in literary history
of the elite,
the avant garde
songs sung
memorializing
the mystery
intrigue
tragic romance
darkness engulfs
all rational
the frigid River Ouse
like a Knight In Shining Armor
arms wrapped around her
as liberator
salvation
read her words and weep

I am WomanOfThePage ~

© 2011 Trilby Yates


September 2010

MORE THOUGHTS...
Every second, every moment is etched in my mind - green eyes, promises, music, words, tears, touch, kiss, scent, love, fear, terror, loss, such deep everlasting loss...

No looking back, visions are like memories being played over and over without a pause button for some sense of relief...

Cancer he says in a cold but yet humane way. A pro at dropping the bomb like a WWII 18 year old soldier in the cockpit of a B52.

The heart weeps and opens wide the doors to self imposed Penance; just another Blues song with a touch of Lennon ~

La dolce vita and a cup of espresso with the Pope, a ferry ride to any island, walk the beach, feel the sand, the sun pouring light into love...

****

Laughter fades into the night as shadows turn from shades of gray to liquid silver sparking glimmers of light that seep into my heart.

****

There are some things in life we can control...anger, violence, integrity, maybe even our life's passion (although I think that's the nature vs nurture debate)...but love...umm don't think so.
Love comes from a place beyond the human part of us...maybe even a divine part or "heavenly" source.
Ever have that jolt when you meet someone? Face to face or the more modern version "cyberspace"?
And no matter what you tell yourself or how you try to deny what your heart is bleeding for it just continues to hemorrhage with an overwhelming yearning to be accepted, cherished, touched and "loved".
The images keep rolling in your mind like a movie, playing over and over, scene after tender scene.
Love, unconditionally falling from point A to Z in less than a heart beat.
Love, an emotion, a feeling, a blessing and one we have no control over.
We will fall and land on our feet or on our knees - but at the end of the day,
love will be what it is meant to be...because love is absolute.

****

There are a few things that help numb what has already died within...most are illegal...

Pray, plead, promise - beg, cry, scream and swear. Deny or accept. I'm convinced nothing can change the path we were on, NOTHING!

Memories are like little movies we can play over and over - black and white or in color, add music for special effect.

Flowers in my hair, you would smile and kiss me...such an angel you would say while holding my hand as if time were slipping away...

Twin flame - to have experienced unconditional love and acceptance makes life cold and dark when the other flame has been blown out...

From heart to head and back again...heart aches, head is the medicine that keeps the fever down and memories at bay...dream on love...

Guilt, guilt, every minute counts. Denial is a tool - keep the ticking time bomb tick-tock for another day. Oh to have those days back...

Peeking from behind the shadows there is nothing but a hollow echo that bounces back and forth, back and forth...endless echo...bounce

A tiny box, open slowly, a piece of paper folded neatly, placed inside. Unfold, words written. TY I love you and will always be with you JY

Join the fight, tell my story, symbolic wrist band - bold words - FIGHT LUNG CANCER...words from an aching heart sound hollow...

Empty spaces, between each line there is a void, a shadow dances in the night simply waiting for what will follow...

Bulls eye, right on target, nail on the head...you said it, I felt it...heart explodes into tiny pieces.

September spirits gather, slight wind carries a song to you while October waits its turn to mourn - Fall, how appropriate..

Our father who art in heaven, ourfatherwhoartinheavenourfatherwhoartinheaven...questions, pleading...no answer-silence...

Two steps forward several steps back to a time when life was full of love you and me never enough time, now the weekends are too long...

The feel of your hand in mine, a tender kiss, shared smile, eyes meet, a peaceful heart - you are here with me...I wake up confused...tears

Is there ever a time when loss fades to fond memories? When a smile has laughter on the cusp? Soul singing, soul singing...longing words

Scattered thoughts with one line that is steadfast, a common thread...a sense of loss shadows my days...shake free from it he whispers...

A new day...not much has changed...tides up, moved the room around...new view - life

TV, internet, ipod, stereo, help quiet the...lack of...

Early Sunday morning the rain is falling wind blowing the empty space next to me woke me up...sounds of silence

Working on a new book...Widow's Walk...it has been suggested that it will be cathartic! My name is Trilby, I am a widow...

Q. Do you rhyme when you write your poetry? A. No, not something I intentionally avoid, it's just not part of my natural flow.

I'm lost in a world of memories, music and thought - my words, my writing keep me sane...for the most part :)

His song is carried in the wind like a breath from a past filled with love.

Found an electronic card from my husband - it was sent a week before we found out he had lung cancer - lots of tears. Grief continues...




Steps taken the past will follow, the heart lingers in tomorrow -
Stand still it will pass you by, blow kisses to the sky...

Never Look Away

Oh the senses soar
each step creates
an experience,
upon a sunset high,
pink, purple harmonious~
eyes meet,
perfection in a moment~
a shift,
crumbs fall to the floor...
glancing back hear the music play
smile and never look away
smile and never look away

you are always with me love like the images that play dance to and fro wrapped neatly around my life, wrapped neatly around my heart...

© 2010 Trilby Yates

Photo by AKM 2010