Poems
by Paul
Tristram
Time To Rhythm Up!
I’m known for a lot of things,
being a ‘Man Of Patience’
is not amongst them.
Dawdling about the place
waiting for ‘Fate’, ‘Destiny’,
and ‘The Universe’ to kick-in
is not my style,
seeking help from other people
not my way,
and anything but straight off
the deep end
is not my cup of tea at all.
I’m my very own
pinball spring-loaded plunger,
I course the day
at break-neck speed.
It’s all Energy and Magic…
or what’s the point
in even bothering?
Ebb and Flow,
increasing and decreasing
Momentum.
Side-surfing
Emotional Landslides,
you have to Create Disaster
to come back from it… Brighter.
You cannot Lose
what’s already been Spent,
and there ain’t no Failing
until you have giving up Trying.
Barefoot on Nettle
Dark thorn, along
a cloudy-pathway…
twists, and turns,
and tangles.
Each footstep
takes you further in,
yet, brings you closer
to eventual Exit.
I sense Rats
behind certain smiles
… let’s avoid those.
The Butterfly
rapidly becomes
the Wasp…
but, never vice versa.
The North Star
is your Intuition…
ignore It
at your own peril.
There’s no shame
in asking for help…
but, if braved alone
your Soul
burns forever stronger.
Champion Scrapes
Nah, you’re too ‘Hesitant’
you’re gonna fall-flat
onto your worrying face
… I can see your lips
mouthing ‘Geronimo’
right before you Ledge
falter… back to safety
… me? oh, I’m already
foot-paddling the Air
before it’s out me mouth.
‘Luck’ and ‘Skill’
don’t come into their own
… without a little bit
of ‘Swagger’ & ‘Danger’.
I shouldn’t preach really
… it’s your ‘Life’, innit.
‘Drive Safely’, sunshine
… ‘Keep Off The Grass’,
‘Don’t Talk To Strangers’
‘Early To Bed’… boring!
When I ‘Die’, yeah…
do me a fucking favour
and stay far away from
my [well-earned] Funeral
… I don’t want your
‘Correct and Proper’…
‘Contaminating’ my Exit.
… All Filth, And Pirate Breath
The Shadows are far more Dense…
around You.
Do you hear that? Don’t smile,
there it is again…
a creaking noise in the next room,
except there is no ‘Next Room’
on this occasion, we’re outdoors.
Your dog, clever though she is,
snaps and growls at invisible things,
and is suspicious of corners?
The ‘Ones Who Stand Behind The Veil’
manoeuvre closely in your proximity.
My aura is light and orange…
yours changes colour like a firework,
and has an Old Spiced syrupiness to it.
You are unfathomable,
and when asked to explain,
which you practically never do,
everything that you say
just makes me more exasperated.
It’s like you’re from another Time,
both Past and Future…
and when I stare into your feline eyes,
I get this really strange feeling
that I must have known you… Forever.
New Chaos
It erupts around you like minefields exploding.
Bloodshot eyes focusing
upon one neutron bomb catastrophe after another.
The ‘Domino Effect’ on amphetamine.
The dark & twisted skies alive with murder & mayhem.
And you grin at your new Masterpiece…
as the demented energy & neurotic adrenalin
sends you skidding head-first into the fray.
The meek & cowardly can keep their beige & mundane…
I’ll be cliff-leaping into insane volcanos
with LSD crazed tiger claws around my defiant throat
right up until the last Battle Cry Breath.
Life was not made to be lived safely…
it’s a test, an assault course to be bettered,
fought through and won.
To belly laugh like a maniac in the midst of the havoc,
almost drown in your own vomit & bleeding…
then, once again,
rise up shining like the blinding light of the Winter Sun.
Braver
The ‘Batterings’ which life threw upon her Soul
during the first half of her tumultuous existence,
have made her practically clairvoyant.
She now sees clearly and with instant premonition,
her own circular-patterns, the masks of others,
both the insincere and the good of heart…
as distinctly as peering in through a window pane.
She pauses, within herself, often…
it’s not fear, nor hesitation exactly,
but, rather a ‘Feeling Out’ a ‘Sensing’ underneath.
Familiar with most Lures, Tricks and Traps,
she walks a far less dangerous and crooked road now.
The ‘Correct People’ around the Hearth of your Heart
is the Key to avoiding mental and emotional assassination.
Keeping Bitterness at bay, never giving in to Hatred
and refusing to see anything but the Truth,
undiluted or distorted, by rose-tinted spectacles,
is both her way of staying sane and progressing un-blindly
through the haphazard maze and battlefield of each new day.
