Gratitudes Three

I am grateful for Petrichor,
Intuition,
and for being born 
the Wrong Shape
to fit into Pigeonholes.



Confrontational Weird

It’s that [Special] moment
when Marina Abramović
stepped towards 
Rhythm O’s participants 
dripping with blood
and tears… and, they
ran away like cowards.
You cannot ‘Buy’… that
… Knowledge, Feeling,
Experience… to look 
the Aggressor/Betrayer 
in the face and see 
No Remorse whatsoever
… is to Understand 
that it is the Weak 
who ‘Attack’ the Strong
not the other way around. 
The ‘Snake’ which hides
in Human Nature… is
kept within the flimsiest 
of Cages, out of eyesight
… those who ‘Lack’
Courage ‘Hate’ The Light. 



Back When I Was A Drunkard

“Who the hell is Belle Elmore?
… you crawled out
from behind the settee 
late last night… around
the guests’ feet… 
over to the coffee table
… spoke her name
into that old Dictaphone 
… then, disappeared
back to whence you came.
Eh, drunk?
of course you were ‘Drunk’
… but, at least you weren’t 
‘Juggling Knives’ again
or ‘Remote Reading’ Diary
Pages of the Ladies present.
We sold a bunch of copies
of your new book…
which, you refused to sign
after the first one… 
upon which you cryptically
scrawled… She’ll simply
end-up ‘Blaming’ Monte Carlo.”



Spent Recharging 

… you don’t need ‘revenge’
but a bigger cup,
for that one overfloweth.
Your dazzling ‘Smile’
has become a weapon
after scaling over adversity
… and your ‘Composure’
a Silent Strength that is Elite.
The Sage nodded respectfully
at your Honesty and Calm
… and claimed, that you were
dressed in Spiritual Armour.
‘Renounce’ and ‘Accept’
… ‘Letting Go’
is always a new Beginning
… take it, and run forward.
Be selective who you listen to
… ‘sticks and stones’
are thrown by small people
trapped in crippling insecurity.
‘Integrity’ is earned slowly…
along a path of… Self Control.



Blemishless

I like the things
which make her ‘Real’,
‘Individual’ and ‘Unique’.
She’s shy,
and a little insecure
about the adolescent 
self-harm scars…
but me,
I could kiss them,
one by one,
until the cows come home.

A stretchmark 
is where you became
a Mother.
And broken heart
after broken heart…
you refused to walk
the weak path of bitterness,
and are strong enough
to still love, and give.
Perfect, to me, 
is not blemishless
and doll-like…
it’s a woman 
full of character,
alive within her own skin.


Bleeds Into Another

At the ‘Knitting-Stage’
… conversation
is littered with
“I was just going to say that”.
Yawning is contagious,
in normal folk, right
… but, when you’re almost
unconsciously racing
each other to start… 
it’s special, you know.
I like the way you ‘Stand’
within yourself
… an entire universe
all by yourself…
except, you’re not
‘All By Yourself’, are you…
I’m tagging along for the ride.


… Almost Spoon-Dippable

You cannot cheat Time
by breaking apart clocks,
revisiting past experiences,
nor by Wishing 
rather than Action.
Complaining, is a snare,
and you’ve got your ankle
and elbow stuck fast.
That’s not Schizophrenia,
exactly,
behind her frowning forehead
… it’s Hurt … 
and I’m proud to stand
watching her bravely
try to bucket it empty.
They’ll Finger-Point
no matter what you do,
the gift this knowledge gives
is Freedom.
Down the road is either
another Mountain or Molehill,
depending upon your Character.
Out of the Crowd,
apart from the Racket and Noise
… is where 
the Imagination riots uncorrupted,
and the Maya Blue Sky
becomes almost Spoon-Dippable.


Paul Tristram is a Welsh writer who has poems and short stories 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. His novel Crazy Like Emotion was recently released upon the public by Close To The Bone Publishing.