Tuesday, August 4, 2015

Paul Tristram- Three Poems

Oh, Paul

She would say, shaking her head
in an half-arsed scolding manner,
whilst frowning and smiling
all at the same time.
“Why, would you upset the applecart so?
It’s from one piece of chaos to the next
with you, my dear,
you’ll be the death of me!”

© Paul Tristram 2015

Bumps & Knuckles, Motherfucker!

And that’s life in all its ridiculous glory,
fall after fall and wall after wall,
a living game of ‘Snakes and Ladders’
‘Go Straight To Jail’ actually, don’t,
we’re going to adjourn this a few times
first, get you sweating and worrying.
Make you cling to the Legal Aid safety rope
whilst bouncing off the many hurdles
of our Justice System of Bureaucratic Bullshit.
We’ll have you grey, bald and alcoholic
in no time, then throw some Prozac in the mix
just to muddy up the waters a bit more,
carrot your donkey along a false path of hope.
Of course you’re confused and depressed,
anyone with any common sense would be.
You have nothing and they want half of it back
and they’re going to tax the shit out of the rest.
Love is 99% of the time just a Fairy Tale
and when it’s all going ‘Pete Tong’, again,
it’s just another form of prison cell
or torture chamber for you to despair in.
I’d wish you ‘Good Luck’ but I need it all myself,
another breakdown’s coming up and we’re all
‘Food Bank Bound’ but don’t you worry
the nearest one’s in St Petroc’s homeless centre
and there’s a Samaritans office right next door,
it’ll save on multiple bus fares, won’t it now,
I’ll see you down the front of the queue, mate.

© Paul Tristram 2015 

From Grenville House Over To Nelson House

The Borstal is on the island of Portland
with one road joining it to the mainland.
There is an Adult Prison on there also
called ‘The Verne’ my Father and one
of my Uncles have been in it (You are allowed
to have curtains up on your cell windows,
is the only thing they both have to say about it?)
There’s a naval base right there too,
which gets a call if there’s any escapees.
The Borstal is split up into seven ‘Houses’
(They call them ‘Houses’ but really, they are
long, high Victorian Prison Blocks!) Benbow,
Raleigh, Drake, Nelson, Grenville, Collingwood
and Beaufort, Grenville’s the Introductory one.
They shove everyone in there for two weeks first
to assess, it’s the worse one, mostly lock-up.
Forty-five minute Association in the evening,
where you can mingle, watch TV, play pool,
but mostly fight your way up the food chain
behind the sadistic Screws backs of course.
It was there I had a fight over Kylie Minogue
with a Cornish lad, her first single was just out
‘I should be so lucky’ and I just happened
to mention that it was that bird off ‘Neighbours’
he laughed, said it wasn’t and called me a twat
for even thinking so, I smiled back widely at first.
I kicked his stomach until he vomited into
a nearby bucket and then tried to drown him in it.
I couldn’t give two fucks about Kylie Minogue
but it’s Borstal and the principle of every gesture.
Three meals a day in a mess hall and the rest
of the time banged up in single cells (Which I like!)
Except for one trip to the Library and visits
to the Gym for those notorious circuits
which either make you or break you, completely.
Then they shift you over to one of the other ‘Houses’
to settle into the rest of your Prison Sentence.
I’ll have to write a novel about it one day soon,
when I sober up enough ‘It’s a hard knock life!’

© 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 http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1326241036
And also read his poems and stories here! http://paultristram.blogspot.co.uk/

No comments:

Post a Comment