Paul Tristram- Three Poems

Defeat & Potatoes

She picked at her flaky, bulbous nose
then scratched some of the dandruff
roughly from between her chin hairs.
Whilst stirring the giant stew pot
with her eczema patterned left hand
in a driving anti-clockwise fashion.
Sneezing on occasion, mostly over
her sweat-drenched butchers apron.
But upon spying from eyes corner
a cheeky little herbert sneakily rising up
from his wooden chair at dinning row 6,
she cast the heavy ladle in his general
direction, missing him by about a foot
and hitting the little, quiet blonde urchin
(who always gets the brunt of everything!)
smack, bang, wallop right in the middle
of the back of his already bruised head.
Then with furious arms a-waving wildly
and bingo-wings a-flapping thunderously
she declared with much authority, gusto
and projectile spittle inducing indignation.
“Not one of you little Bastards leaves
my Domain until one entire bowlful
of Defeat & Potatoes is inside of thee,
Now sit your arses down and stay down!”

© Paul Tristram 2014

Alcohol & Hitler Don’t Work (Unless You’re Racist!)

“Alcohol and Hitler don’t work
unless you’re racist!”
She screamed at him,
throwing the contents
of her glass into his face.
But we’d been on the lash
since 11am and it was now
9pm and she was getting a
little more than a bit clumsy.
The glass slipped from her hand
and I watched in horror
and slow motion
as it spun awkwardly
towards his face.
It was a wine glass
and the bottom flat platform
hit him on the cheekbone
snapping the stem above it
sending the actual bowl
over and off his shoulder
to smash to bits upon the floor.
I grabbed her arm
swinging her around
and yelled in her face
“You Idiot, it’s Charlie Chaplin.
It’s a fancy dress party!”
Just as Elvis Presley,
Marilyn Monroe
and Abraham Lincoln
jumped away from the bar
and got all up in our biscuits.
“I’ve got her, No harm done.
I’m taking her home, right now!”
“You’d better!” Warned Marilyn
“Coz if I see her again tonight
I’m gonna break off her head
and shit right down her throat!”
Wow ‘Classy’ I thought
as I dragged my acquaintance
kicking and screaming
backwards towards the front Exit.

© Paul Tristram 2014

“Wait…Mandy’s Been Two-Timing You!”

She screamed at the back of his head
as he walked faster and faster away
from her raging agony.
She stumbled, slightly
shaking her head mournfully,
casting bitter teardrops in all directions
except for that of his mercy’s.

“I would have been true to you,
God Damn it, I would have stuck by you
through thick and thin.
I was prepared to have your children.
To look after you when you were ill
and push you around when you were crippled,
even though I hope you never will be.
I even tried to imagine you going bald,
having only one eye and losing all your teeth
And still I would have adored you, my King.
This restraining order is a joke, surely?
It is not even worth the paper it’s written upon.
Turn around and look, you Bastard
and watch my love’s sweet defiance.
Turn around now and fall in love with me!”

© 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. You can read his poems and stories here! http://paultristram.blogspot.co.uk/