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

Kisses In The Dark

Glass slipper shatters 
As you walk on water
Like the second coming 
Of someone of substance
Someone we have 
All been longing for
Only you care about the timing 
Of this desperate game
Life and all its little 
...inconsequential - s
Universal plan falls 
Neatly into place 
Like domino's standing 
In a carefully placed row
One behind the other 
If one hand trembles
Tin soldiers tumble and 
Suicide bombers explode 
At the sound 
Of bells ringing 
In a far, far away land
But, I have forgotten 
The truth
And color of your eyes
And you 
You can't recall my name
So with a bitter sweet farewell 
- 21 gun salute and flags flown 
At a mournful half staff
I bid to you and yours 
Whom ever they may be
A happy and prosperous new year
Words of warning as you turn 
Strut and stagger away 
One glass too many
One glass is never enough
Like kisses in the dark 
That slowly lead to paradise
Head tipped to the left 
Sympathetically diving off the curve
Last words slur and drip 
From your oh so seductive lips
"...don't accept Canadian coin 
from strangers and never cross Jack..."
The one eyed man observes more 
Than just you and me
His days are numbered with good intentions 
- one to ten and counting
And always, always remember 
To pause and reflect while twisting 
Your personally monogrammed 
Sterling silver knife
That one last meaningful

t...u...r...n...

© 2014 TrilbyYates

Lust And Passion

Hey...you...pssst...floating 
Lightly from high above
The cement masses
Whistles and cat calls
Reminiscent of a 50's B flick
With blonde bombshells 
And well manicured mustaches
That get twisted when the mood shifts
From scene to scene
Little girl with grown up shoes
Struts her stuff
While taking another puff
Long thin 100s imported 
Via her new daddy's 
Best stash dipped 
In candy coated cocaine
For character reference
And a little push
All for the sake of its own
Gentle manipulative shove
She slips from the right - side of the curve 
To the depths of hell in waiting
There is no bounce left in her step
Looking up with a child's eye
Batting her thick false lashes
Trying to disguise
Her lack of expertise
In matters of lust and passion
What entices the streets
Of a city that never sleeps;
Never protecting its young
and innocent - taking from the weak...?

© 2014 TrilbyYates