Bona Fide
Thorns for comfort blankets
… extricate…
Peace is found internally.
Excavate and rebuild
… your ‘patterns’,
to confuse and alter, at will.
Be rude to naysayers
… reward them in silence…
save your energy…
for the genuine and sincere.
Never explain why
you are calm and quiet
… buoy within…
your very own balance
… the less you need
(of people) the more you
become the ‘authentic’ you.
One More Dawn
She stumbled,
an exhausted pirouette
out of the requiem…
and rising up,
from battered
and bruised knees,
screamed,
defiantly,
the all-seeing-skies
into applauding thunder
and celebratory lightning.
“I have… overcome,
mastered grief,
despair, and the abyss…
I am stronger
than suicide,
I spit wholeheartedly
upon an undercooked
funeral pyre…
I have out-shed
all tears and mourning…
and I now fear nothing!”
Incoming!
Brace ‘yourself’
… backbone
to the forefront.
Lock-down
(dangerous)
‘emotions’…
dig (mental)
heels in deep.
Raise stamina,
endurance and
determination
… from your
soul’s armoury.
Focus neither
upon ‘victory’
nor ‘defeat’
… but, on
manoeuvring
across coming
‘battleground’
with as much
dignity, fight
and strength as
you can ‘muster’.
Firstly Heal Thyself
I refuse to reveal the identities
of the Lightworkers…
I have in my acquaintance
… I help keep them safe
with complete and utter privacy.
But, if you wanted to see me,
I mean, the ‘real me’,
an absolute gentleman to a fault
… it would have to be
in the exquisite company
of someone quietly special.
To spar (almost) innocently
with nothing but ‘intuition’
and playful intentions…
before witnessing, in awe,
as they swerve sideways
and ‘give’ to someone passing,
then retreat, quickly…
most times, before even being
detected… is lush-miraculous.
My ‘energy’ can recharge
an ‘Empath’ at forty paces,
faster than healing crystals
… and they calm my ‘Riot’
with a simple, sincere smile
and hands of tingling positivity.
Lilith & Ebenezer
She was ‘sleeping’ deeply
… which is very strange,
for incarceration usually
keeps her fidgeting,
and dozing, at best…
she was cliff-gazing up
at an amethyst moon
… when the jangling
keys and heavy footfall
… brought her back
to reality and her cell…
with an awakening suck.
“They’re ‘time-serving’
him as well… you’re both
to be released this day,”
she was curtly informed.
“I know,” she whispered,
“I’ve felt ‘cushioned’,
all through this ordeal
by those who monitor
and level scales beyond.”
A couple of hours later
… and they approached
each other slowly…
his ‘face-scars’ seemed
more angry, and vivid.
“We must stop this now
… it is destroying us…
whilst, no-one’s winning
… it’s all become circles
where we need lines as
straight as trickless truth.”
To read more poems by the same author, click here
About the Author
Paul Tristram is a widely published Welsh writer who yearns to tattoo porcelain bridesmaids instead of digging empty graves for innocence at midnight, although this too may pass, yet. His novel Crazy Like Emotion was recently released by Close To The Bone Publishing.
