Saturday, December 7, 2013

Paul Tristram- Three Poems

If It Wasn’t For Heroin

She’d have lived elsewhere
and I would have called for her
without any restraint,
without any shame
and smiling
I would have grasped her wrists,
looked deep into her eyes
and proposed to her,
if it wasn’t for heroin.

© Paul Tristram 2008

Published in Inclement (Poetry For The Modern Soul) Volume 8, Issue 3, Autumn 2008

Putting A Note Through Your Letterbox

The paving slabs reject
my footsteps at each try
but still I tread on
Who told them that I was
not good enough for you?
Who informed the streetlights
and set them against me
shining in blaring accusation?
More importantly
who give me the strength
to fool myself and become so

© Paul Tristram 2006

Published in Poetry Monthly, Issue 130, January 2007

Upon Hearing Your Name

The child dies within me.
My soul becomes a bottomless pit,
where the screams and cries
of hope and optimism
fade in escalating numbers.
Colour disappears.
Anxiety hungrily attacks.
The pain becomes tuned
to a snapping tension.
Defeated once more,
I buy an off-licence ticket
to the solitary shores
of oblivion.

© Paul Tristram 2006

Published in Poetry Monthly, Issue 130, January 2007

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

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