Wednesday, September 16, 2015

Paul Tristram- Three Poems

Under Neath It All

The face of you
shrugs & whimpers
until the
taxi door
becomes real.

© Paul Tristram 2015

Borstal Brick Agreement

He sat on his ‘Jack Jones’
at a corner table in Association,
nimbly folding up a magazine
into a compact wad of paper.
Then he bent it in half,
holding both ends together
in one hand he carefully
stamped on the bent section
tightening it as hard as it would go.
Satisfied with his craftsmanship,
he walked into the TV area,
over to the noisy gang of men
in the front two rows of chairs.
Spying Jenkins sitting in the middle,
he hit him three times, rapidly
in the face, breaking his nose,
jaw and knocking out four teeth
in the process and hissed
“Don’t make me have to explain
myself a second time to you!”
Then walked casually to the tea urn
in the next room and had himself
a nice plastic beaker of ‘Rosy Lee’.

© Paul Tristram 2015

Sobriety’s Suicide

He turned up at the AA meeting
that he had been attending
once a week for the last
eighteen months sober…drunk!
With three wino’s from the park
in tow and stubbornly interrupted
the Main Speaker mid Share.
First of all he wanted everyone
in the room to know that he loved
them all individually and collectively.
Especially blonde ‘Car Crash’ Deidre
whom he’d had a crush on for ages
but had never had the bottle (Ha!)
to approach in anything but shyness
before this strange, magical night.
That he would always be there
for each and everyone of them,
if they were in trouble they only
needed to ask, day or night
and sometimes even in between ;)
The borrowing of this weeks
group tea and coffee money
was nothing but a friendly lend.
And for a change how about they
fuck off the ‘Serenity Prayer’
to finish and everyone join him
for a little sing-a-long instead
…”wake up Maggie I think I’ve
got something to say to you!”

© 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
And also read his poems and stories here!

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