Saturday, July 18, 2015

Paul Tristram- Three Poems

A Shaman Of The Senses

Right in the depths of feeling
pleasure slowly changes tune
and becomes an inner knowledge.

© Paul Tristram 2010

You’ve Obviously Confused Me With Someone Who Gives A Flying Fuck, Love?

“Why don’t you grow up for once in your life?
Get a proper, steady job instead of always hustling?
Sleep at night like decent people?
Stop drinking, you’ve always got a beer can in your hand
and it’s disgusting all the time like that, mun.
Cut out the swearing, it’s just so fucking disrespectful.
Date women your own age and from nice families, see.
Wear trousers and proper shoes now you’re in your forties.
Write about nice things like the proper poets used to.
Quit fighting, taking drugs (I know you’ve stopped
but it’s just a matter of time with people like you, innit?)
Burning the candle at both ends whilst everyone else
is struggling to get by, you’re taking the piss being happy!)
Stop talking about love and romance, you fool,
settle for someone you can barely tolerate like normal folk.
The pub is not your office and your friends are losers,
thieves and vagabonds, not a pot to pee in between you all.
Leave your daydreams far behind you like the rest of us
have had to and for Christ Sake, stop introducing yourself
as ‘Great & Fantastic’ and then dancing on one foot,
you’re making the ‘Vanilla Majority’ (Who rule!) hate you!”

© Paul Tristram 2015

The Loch Ness Monster & Other Important Stuff Like That

Dear Cold and Cynical Scientific World,
Do me a favour and get back in your corner, will you?
I don’t want to hear no more bollocks
about giant catfish up in Loch Ness
or Sasquatch footprints really being bear prints
after slipping out of shape, what’s wrong with you?
Stop analysing the anal hair of Red Woods Dwellers
and leave the ‘Fairies At The Bottom Of The Garden’
alone to do their thing in peace, for Christ Sake!
You’ve already ridiculed, shamed and destroyed
the Magic of Father Christmas, the Easter Bunny
and The Tooth Fairy, leave Jack Frost alone, damn it,
we need him now here amongst us more than ever.
Investigate apple pips, rock fungi, meteors, frog farts
or underwater gravel filters, absolutely anything
but our Legends and Folklore…you bunch of white coat
wearing, Tefal fore-headed, pie chart drawing,
(Still living with Mother!) Muppets or I’m coming
to give you all a couple of knuckle sandwich slaps!

© Paul Tristram 2015

 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.

Buy his book ‘Poetry From The Nearest Barstool’ at
And also read his poems and stories here!

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