Sunday, February 8, 2015

Paul Tristram- Three Poems

I Am Beautiful Without You

The seams aren't as bumpy.
My train of thought goes elsewhere (mostly)
I caress myself, innocently.
I catch myself propelling a future
of my own making,
rich like Arabia in the old days.
No more you and no more that!
My body: no longer a vessel.
I'm at the wheel at last.
I'm not sailing, I'm storming
Into that (without you!) sunshine.

© Paul Tristram 2015


Dusty white and caved with hollow,
your very own alter of shame
in the flesh, so to speak.
To bag and carry around your personage,
no closet to fit into, no bolts to lock tight.
You’re doomed to be soul roommates forever.
Like a 2nd shadow following you around inside,
a never lanced boil upon your temperament.
There’s no Pirate fun to be had
in that death’s head grin.
Just a smug, knowing, condemnation.
You will never escape, abate or be free,
you’ve been sentenced to this
cold, logical judgement…indefinitely.

© Paul Tristram 2015

A Cry For Help That Never Happened

We’re at the location, right now.
The body is laying upon the garage floor.
He was found hanging by a ligature
from a suspended beam in the roof
by the wife and 6 year old daughter,
who immediately ran back inside
the property and dialled the three 9’s.
WPC Jenkins is in the kitchen
with both of them, trying to calm them down
as we speak, I, myself cut the rope
suspending the body and laid him out flat.
I am now waiting on the Paramedics
although I can tell you that life has left the body.
What I can confirm is that he was a IC1 male,
aged 35 and went by the name of Colin Barry.
I, myself retrieved a handwritten suicide note
from his left trouser pocket.
It looks like self murder, completely!
Everything is running by the numbers now
except the daughter is absolutely hysterical
(A couple of slaps off Mother didn’t even help!)
Of course, he was a right sight when they found him,
shit and piss everywhere and that face,
Jesus, she’ll have nightmares for an eternity.
Why don’t these selfish bastards
bag their fucking heads before doing it, I’ll never know?”

© 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.

You can read his poems and stories here!

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