"Cartography of Echoes"
.....for Tristan R.L.
Beyond the glass of our screens—
where your bold words
crackle like summer storms,
I plot each consonant’s electric arc,
charting your defiance
in starlit constellations.
Between cursor and
keystroke’s muted pause,
I heed your lightning riffs—
a tempest that rattles
the keepers’ gates,
swabbing pews with salted truths.
Your voice, a ferry
slicing through corporate muck,
carries me over ink-swollen waters.
In every raw confession— “unpublishable,” you scoff—
I find harbour for the unsung.
So here’s a stubby torch
in our digital dusk:
an analogue lantern
cutting through pixel haze,
where paper’s grain
and screen’s glow entwine,
and mateship anchors our verse.
To Tristan, whose tempests
reveal hidden shores,
may our shared maps
of grief and grit
sketch fresh constellations
in the void—
where every echo
finally plays its game.
.
.
-
Author:
crypticbard (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: December 30th, 2025 05:03
- Comment from author about the poem: Written awhile back now but hadn’t gotten around to posting. But since it’s the year end perusal of drafts, here it is.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 12
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange
Offline)
Comments6
A wonderful toast to another great poetic soul. Well written this poem sparked an old fear or rather concern. When poems were paper chained fire their greatest enemy today digital and screen based a simple solar flare could take out all.
That scares me quite a bit, honestly. Our imprint and legacy seems all too fragile and fleeting 🕊️🙏🏻
Indeed
Nicely worded. Your poem seems to revolve around the power of words and personal confessions shared in a digital landscape, highlighting themes of defiance, connection, grief, and creativity.
Quite so, but the repertoire has a range far greater than that, I would like to think. Thank you for pointing that out 🕊️🙏🏻
You're so welcome, my friend.
Wow, my dear friend, thank you for this. Truly. It landed at a moment when I was questioning everything… purpose, voice, even whether writing still mattered. (Of course, I know it does...but that self-doubt can be pernicious). The timing feels anything but accidental. This felt like God speaking through the void, arriving exactly when it needed to. Your words of human and artistic recognition mean more than I can say. I was literally sitting in an “I’m unpublishable” spiral when this appeared (even as I just did get a poem published, followed by more rejection letters 🤣🤷♂️😅)… and somehow this poem cut through that noise and reminded me why I speak at all. Deeply grateful for the care, the seeing, and the fellowship here. I truly appreciate you, Rik! 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Glad to be there in some form at a good time as well. 🕊️🙏🏻
Indeed, as am I. I am glad to have you around at any time, honestly. Here's to different seasons and different responses...poetry all the same. The gift that keeps on giving to us poets, no? Again, much appreciated! 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Thank heavens for that! Otherwise this existence would be superbly insufferable 🙏🏻🕊️
Superbly insufferable, for sure! Thank heavens, indeed!
A nice bit of cartography there - I dunno wot it means exactly! lol. Fido says to me: 'I knew you wouldn't get the meaning even if it's only the least bit cryptic'. lol.
Just glad that you humour the poet and honour the poem, O🙏🏻🕊️
Good words Rik, that light will always be there for us.
Andy
Let the light shine! A marvellous new year to you and yours, Andy🕊️🙏🏻
"Unpublishable" is all too familiar to me. "Between cursor and keystroke’s muted pause, I heed your lightning riffs, a tempest that rattles" is marvelous. Nice work here.
Hey Dan, long time no see, man! Thanks for that. Hope you have an excellent new year🕊️🙏🏻
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