Saturday, February 21, 2015

Paul Tristram- Three Poems


She had a Cat called Chiva
and a Dog named Diamorphine
…I frowned,
then walked quickly and cleverly, away.

© Paul Tristram 2015

Graceful Melancholy

She sat scowling miserably,
knitting a shawl of melancholy.
Frantic fingers working
in lightning rhythm
to the enemy drums
marching within her mind.
Yet, the brilliant explosion
inside her senses,
that graceful calm
upon slippery rock within the storm,
once reached and balanced upon
skilfully when the focus is on fire
and the flow and motion
are bobbing along in perfect pitch
is more than worth the chaos before
and the crashing carnage afterwards.
When the soul finally breaks separate,
shifts up a gear or three
and regardless of the ritual chains
starts speeding and soaring all on its own.

© Paul Tristram 2014


Sometimes all roads
do not lead out of here.
Sometimes they just lead
further and deeper into
the existing problem.
When North is being
a Bastard and the other
three have his back.
Honesty will not get you
anywhere when people
don’t want to hear the truth.
When any form of escape is
momentarily impossible
you’re no longer a free man.
New thought-up solutions
slip through your fingertips
like juggled sandcastles.
You are simply stumped
for now, my friend, stumped.
There is nothing to do now
but wait, careful avoidance,
batten down the hatches,
hibernate safely and wait.
The clock hands have stopped
ticking for you for right now
just exist for existences sake.

© 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!

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