Cocaine Butterflies
My mind reaps the gifts
from the fields of fantasy.
I absorb the very notion
of everything that I see.
Fantastic becomes familiar
strangeness an old friend.
I listen to the melody
of all it cares to send.
From the folds of rapture
wide-eyed as a child.
I skip past the ordinary
which kills the inside wild.
To waterfalls of wisdom
to drink an overflowing glass.
Boundaries differ with personality
through them I choose to pass.
Binded not by blindness
care free to explore.
The many bountiful secrets
behind the senses doors.
Laying still yet travelling
mile after mile of temptation.
Speaking in hallucinations
gives the soul true revelation.
Cocaine butterflies
in the turquoise skies.
Multi-coloured daydreams
wings of painted eyes.
The humming and the flutter
created by their presence.
Dazzles my emotions
reveals beauty’s true essence.
© Paul Tristram 2008
Published in Metverse Muse (India) 29th To 31st Triple Issue, April 2011 to May 2012
Yin Yang Moon
I blot normality out easily
swallow it down and wait.
For the plain up above
to pull me through its gate.
Like the Druid’s and Shaman
from days long before.
I seek my inner experience
through the strangest of doors.
Reality becomes an illusion
when you leave it’s land.
The most powerful of feelings
cannot be felt by hand.
Tilt your head sideways
feel the sea sway within.
Feel the universal buoyancy
through which we all swim.
The shades of colour preach aloud
as I gaze up through the trees.
The earthly taste of separation
sends me laughing to my knees.
I embrace the distinct distraction
I breathe in the senses delight.
I fight the coming come down
with all of my souls might.
After the pale light of day
comes the yin yang moonlight.
I peak with admiration
at this psychedelic sight.
The vividness of danger
without any of the fright.
I open the mind’s eye
to take that cosmic flight.
© Paul Tristram 2005
Published in Panda Quarterly Poetry, Issue 22, April 2005
Autumn’s Requiem
Silently I watch
the world committing treason.
Silently I watch
the dying of man’s season.
As chariots of gales
separate the living from the dead.
Hands pierced with nails
humanity paints all brown and red.
Silently I listen
to night slaughter day.
Silently I listen
to the righteous as they stray.
The world belongs to all of us
but we own only our minds.
It’s the clause in the contract
that gets us every time.
Silently I walk
over hills of hate.
Silently I walk
into my darkened fate.
The Lord is my shepherd
but I’ve strayed from the fold.
With only a shield of defiance
to keep me from the cold.
A second will suffice
to set the wheels in motion.
A second will suffice
to comprehend the corrosion.
You cannot avoid the path of change
but you can avoid the fall.
Surrender is always selfish
unless you surrender it all.
With a cloak of curiosity
I soak it all up.
Death just like birth
has an overflowing cup.
Autumn’s requiem
is singing loud today.
Autumn’s requiem
come spring-clean it all away.
© Paul Tristram 2009
Published in Earth Love, Issue thirty-three, November 2009
Paul Tristram is a Welsh writer who has poems, short stories and sketches published in many publications around the world, he yearns to tattoo porcelain bridesmaids instead of digging empty graves for innocence at midnight, this too may pass, yet.
Paul Tristram is a Welsh writer who has poems, short stories and sketches published in many publications around the world, he yearns to tattoo porcelain bridesmaids instead of digging empty graves for innocence at midnight, this too may pass, yet.
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