Poems by Paul Tristram

 

Hunted

 

Running as fast as the wind
leaping the obstacles in my way.
Breaking through the boundaries
keeping the demented dogs at bay.
At one with my fear
panic-attacks merge and blend.
Neck and neck with exhaustion
in competition with convention to the end.
Bated like a badger
hunted like a fox.
Fleeing like a criminal
from shallow eyes that mock.
Survival of the weakest
testing the mentally unstable.
Keeping out the reach of breakdowns
just as long as I am able.
Alone with my emotions
they hate me each and every one.
The race is nearly over
but the hunting’s just begun.

 

 

 

Brilliant Minds

 

The brilliant minds of government

Cannot stop my oppression.

The brilliant minds of medicine

Cannot cure my depression.

The brilliant minds of science

Cannot halt my soul’s evolution.

The brilliant minds of law

Cannot calm my personal revolution.

The brilliant minds of religion

Cannot find my spirit a solution.

The brilliant minds of industry

Cannot do anything but disillusion.

The brilliant minds of philosophy

Cannot think away my confusion.

Together all these brilliant minds

Simply cannot crush my resolution.

 

 

 

Bang Summer’s Drum

 

The cold is merely a memory

now Winter has closed its door.

The path through Spring is over

Autumn is visiting another shore.

All is livid with lush life

the breeze alive with busy sounds.

The sun has traded in his hat

for the most radiant of crowns.

The beach as always beckons

towns of tourists to come and see.

The beautiful turquoise brilliance

of the calming of its sea.

Mother Nature alive and merry

this being her favourite season.

Sneezes wonder into the air

to mantle sorrow’s shroud of treason.

So do not hide in busyness

do not miss or waste the sun.

Come join us in the countryside

come help us bang Summer’s drum.

 

 

 

Good Man Down

 

You smile from the sky

while I’m floored upon the ground.

Why must you always

keep a good man down?

You look like an angel

but you smile like a clown.

Happy there keeping

this good man down.

 

 

 

My Head’s Too Abnormal For Drawing

 

“Please bear with me” I asked

As I stood in front of the mirror.

“You are not the only one who’s crazy!”

The madness in my eyes grew dimmer.

“You are just a little bit eccentric

Although sometimes you do own sanity.

But when it flips from heads to tails

You do tend to switch so very easily.

Your head’s too abnormal for drawing

And I’m afraid will always be this way.

But other than that inconvenience

You are perfect in every single way!”

 

 

 

Hatchet Face

 

She talks crap daily
Behind peoples backs she lives.
She takes continually
But only hurt she gives.
Clever in her cowardness
She giggles home alone.
She works the night time hours
With her favorite friend the phone.

 

Nosiness is forgivable
If trying to help the person.
But nosiness is evil
If their troubles you worsen.
Her problems must be many
If this is how she has fun.
Delighted in deception
Her life is a sad one.

 

They’ll run her out of town
Oh yes, someday very near.
They’ll run her into the ground
The mask will drop, they’ll see her.
For exactly what she is
A collection of many faces.
She’ll find her nest of shit
Trip up over her verbal laces.

 

Hatchet face
Hatchet face.
Always sticking her nose
In the wrong place.
Hatchet face
Hatchet face.
All she wants is trouble
So she quickens its pace.

 

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