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
You can also read his poems and stories here! http://paultristram.blogspot.
Out Of Sight (Yeah Right)
Out of sight, out of mind.
What complete and utter rubbish.
What Dickhead thought up that one?
Right now, I have a stab wound
right in the middle of my back.
I cannot see it,
but it’s fucking killing me.
© Paul Tristram 2007
Published in Moodswing, Issue Twenty Two, Summer 2007
I’ve boarded up the window
chained the door to my temper.
I sit here, you know how it is,
waiting comes hand in hand
my stamina’s on hold.
I’ve enough food for four days,
enough defiance for another six.
A bottle, a baseball bat
and a hundred weight of anger.
I’ll let you know how things
turn out, alright, Fuck Face!
© Paul Tristram 2004
Published in The Yellow Crane, Number 25, Autumn 2004
“Forgive me, please.
I was just feeling so teasie earlier.
You know the shit that I’m
going through at the moment.
I didn’t mean it, I didn’t mean anything.
Everything just got too much.
You know the money situation.
My mother’s being a bitch.
I’m about to come on.
I’m not sure if they’ll
let me start back at college.
I couldn’t find my gear
and the fucking milk was off!
Jesus Christ, what’s the point,
I’m going out!”
I had not opened my mouth once
on either occasion,
except in disbelief.
© Paul Tristram 2005
Published in Moodswing, Issue Fifteen, Spring 2005
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