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 books ‘Scribblings Of A Madman’ (Lit Fest Press) http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/
‘Poetry From The Nearest Barstool’ at http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/
And a split poetry book ‘The Raven And The Vagabond Heart’ with Bethany W Pope
at http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/
You can also read his poems and stories here! http://paultristram.blogspot.
Cornered
Often times in life we paint
ourselves into a corner.
Sometimes we can see those
dark storm clouds a-brewing
up overhead a good fortnight
or more before they strike.
When sensing this approaching,
I find the best course of action
to be taken is…Sideways!
Step outside of the box.
Find a shadowy corner
of an unfamiliar pub
in a normally unfrequented
part of town.
(Yes, that one up that back lane
will do the job just nicely!)
Take council with 3 or 4 beers
re-evaluate the value of all
within the equation?
Mull over the pros and cons
of leaving or fighting?
Or exactly how much of both
will in fact be needed?
Cross-examine the known
evidence and have a browse
through the suspected too.
Then have a break and share
a Ploughman’s Lunch
with your hungry self.
(Making sure that they provide
Branston Pickle with the meal!)
Then settle back easy
into your framework.
Smoke a good expensive cigar
with a golden shot of Jameson’s
to warm up your mood and insides.
Then armed with your new found
strength and enthusiasm
step back home over Enemy Lines.
© Paul Tristram 2014
Published in The Art Of Being Human, Volume 12 (Romania & Canada) Saturday the 24th of January 2015
This One Happens To Be Real
After 6 days he would leave the house,
it was like crawling out of a tent of skin,
finally freed, straight into fear.
He’d walk the back lanes,
kept a roll-up to light up
to avoid familiar faces,
shopped at the bargain section in Tesco's.
He buried his dog himself,
phoned up the council 5 and a half times
but his kitchen tap still does the same thing.
And that’s where we leave him,
pacing the hall past midnight
waiting for the next 6 days to end.
There is no happy ending
this one happens to be real.
© Paul Tristram 2006
Published in Sarasvati, Issue 22, May/June, 2012
Old Friend
I was walking through the seaside streets of Looe
when I saw a ‘Clairvoyance Today’ sign
in a little shop window…so in I went.
She told me many glorious and amazing things
but right in the middle of the reading
she suddenly stopped and said
“You have an Old Friend with you
and he goes with you everywhere.
He crossed over far too young, he’s a suicide
and was involved in drugs and just couldn’t see
the point in going on any further anymore.
He’s laughing and said you had a lot of fun
when you were younger, the mischief and mayhem.
He says to tell you that he ‘respects you’
but what he really means and is too proud to say
is that he ‘loves you’
He likes where you are living right now
and he likes where you are going.
He loves the night time when you listen
to all of that good music and wishes
he was physically able to drink a beer with you.
He says that there’s been a lot of death around you
but you know who and which one he is.
And tonight if you could lift your pint glass
whilst playing music and speak aloud his name
you would make him a very happy man indeed!”
© Paul Tristram 2015
Published in Poems-For-All, Matchbook Series No. 1284 (San Diego, USA) March 2015.
Came through my letterbox on Saturday the 14th of March 2015.
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