Paul Tristram- Three Poems

 

A Molehill Out Of A Mountain

If no one is directly hurt
or is in danger of being hurt.
Then avoidance, often times, is indeed
the best course of action to take.
Instead of magnifying trouble
practice the un-magnifying of problems.
Things only need stressing and worrying about
whilst you are actually working them out.
The quicker and quieter
that this is achieved the better.
I for one would much rather
be solitarily side-stepping Molehills
than running with gossiping crowds
head first into those ever waiting Mountains.

© Paul Tristram 2014

Rescued From Reality

I banged neurotically at her family door.
Tried to pull and muster all of my
concentration and willpower together
to hold in the colourful LSD circus
and carnival that my fantastical cranium
had become, 30 odd minutes before.
Absolutely Ridiculous Mr Nicholas!
never going to happen in a million years.
I lucked it, a sister answered the door
and before a bright little blue bird
shot out of my mouth said “Cuckoo!”
and my blasphemous tongue started
to explain once again the pros and cons
of inter star constellational skulldruggery.
I felt, rather than heard the bubbling rush
of her excitement dementedly chasing
her down the running stack of stairway.
BOOM! we visually echoed a kiss tunnel
to the taxi and we were upon the backseat.
Trying uselessly to control, subdue or hide
the ‘Evil Dead’ hands we had suddenly
and unexpectedly become possessed of.
“Aberdulais Basin, Drive!” I neighed
far too loudly for my own liking
and off we roared, arriving soon after.
I paid with slippery pennies, tipping cordially.
Then arm in arm like drunken vultures
we exploded into the riverside woodland
half a mile that way as the crow flies.
Until the Sentry swinging a half ember staff
could be seen clearly at a short distance
lighting up the magical midnight skies.

© Paul Tristram 2014

This Is Nowhere

Yet, it is far better than it was before.
Each year brings around another
anniversary away from you to celebrate.
Every Christmas lots of wonderful
gifts and presents not to have to buy.
This is nowhere but it’s also painless,
totally stress-free, calm and detached.
It’s just outside of the other side
of that unnecessarily bloody aftermath.
It wasn’t a case of one door closing
and then another one opening,
it was far bigger than that,
whole continents shifted, literally.
It’s not the start of a new chapter
or even of a new story or book
but of a different medium and language,
completely afresh and unsoiled.
This is nowhere but only whilst
I catch my breath and ready myself
to step forward into the incredible life
that you could not understand, comprehend
and was continually holding me back from.
A new amazing life is on the horizon
which will outshine the severed past forever.

© Paul Tristram 2014



Paul Tristram is a Welsh writer who has poems, short stories, sketches and photography 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.