Captain

One foot in front 
of the other
a sexy aloof 
sway of the hips
purposely oblivious 
to watching eyes
entranced by the sounds 
that surround 
Atlantic breeze 
always makes 
the heart skip a beat
passion still flows -
A smile appears as corners 
turn up on glossy full lips
simple thought sings silently
when out of the blue
4” stiletto gets stuck 
random spaces between
floating dock on top 
of a restless sea
throwing off the perfection
of a seductive stride
sweet sound 12 bar riff
the only vibration 
that echos bouncing 
from mast to mast
obscene ranting 
of frustration
pick up the pieces 
dust them off 
take another step
a bit more aware 
of what lie ahead
go against the grain
blow caution to the wind 
one last act of defiance
step on board 
a swaying 40 footer
heels in hand
exposing a subtle
amount of long legs
a left hand salute
questioning eyes
“Permission to come a board, Captain?” 

© 2015 TrilbyYates 

A Theft Of The Heart

She counts 
all the men 
that have 
come and gone 
rise and fall 
tiny notches 
on her wall 
and they will 
never know 
what piece of her 
they have taken 
with them 
and it's not 
anything transparent 
or cliche 
words that rhyme 
or step away 
it's the subtleties 
in her voice 
the way she 
touched their brow 
and as they 
shuffle down the street 
straightening their tie 
and belt buckle
they will never know 
the wonder 
that she felt 
at their absence 
the after thought 
or the expression 
of sorrow 
for the lacking 
in how we have 
raised our boys 
and to her amazement 
there is no hostility 
only remorse 
for what they steal 
and never borrow 
...a theft of the heart

© 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 

Recognition

A few side steps 
off the curve you fall
and for a while 
there is a time and place
to bat your eyes 
and lick your lips
as if the package 
is all that matters 
in those moments when
the label tastes better 
than the wine
and the left hand 
on your Rolex
gets stuck 
between AM and PM
in a hesitating movement
that never gets beyond 
the here and now
...remember where you came from
not just where you’re headed
because at the end 
of the day
all that matters 
is what you hold
dear to your heart
even if it is gently worn
on the sleeve 
of your designer suit
with an occasional 
nod of recognition
to what once was… 

© 2015 TrilbyYates