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i love you so much
i always have loved you ever since the
days that I first laid eyes on you and then made contact with
the black holes within the deepest brown of your soul’s oceanic windows
i remember sitting across from you at the diner all those years ago when you looked
into the blue seas of my eyes with such confidence that i would have believed anything you
would have said to me in that moment which feels like a monument in
my misty-eyed memory that won’t be denied no matter
how many times i may question whether our love back then was ever truly
real that confident prophetic gaze predicting that we would one day marry ling-
ers like a ghost haunting the halls of their long lost love there but not visible to anyone even
themselves i remember that day like it was yesterday followed by the lives we built up to make
those predictions a reality because i believed in the dream that we were ‘scaping together as
painters with the world as our sacred canvas we had our palette of freesia lavender fuchsia
crimson apricot lemon and the deepest obsidian sleek and filled with the wonder of mid-
night and speckled with beads of glimmering white like the stars of light that fill up the dark-
est night yes i can remember it so well just like i can remember the mural we painted in
two feminine halves our creation together became all of our hopes our dreams our
fears and our undoing all in one seemingly quick fell swoop of the harvester’s scythe
yet I know that it happened over a much longer period than my memory serves
me because both good and bad crops take a season or more to be cultivated
and grown and those crops took many years decades even to paint to the shape form
and hue it ended up having i was not the one who came up with that design nor was i
the one who made those masterstrokes yet i saw the design subtly at first not thinking too
much of it however it became clearer overtime that i was being left out of the scene we were
painting well that is not exactly true i am on the canvas in the same way that diego velázquez
and his mysterious doorman are on the canvas in his famed las maninas there but why present
yet not really feeling like they actually belong there but are there out of
obligation to fill in blank spaces so that the canvas appears to be complete
yet no one is fooled by the foil only confused and then. eventually they
move back to the focus of the frame forgetting that the other painter and his
friend are even there because they’re really not anything more than props
© 2025 Tristan Robert Lange. All rights reserved.
Tittu
-
Author:
Tristan Robert Lange (
Offline) - Published: October 23rd, 2025 09:25
- Comment from author about the poem: Download here: https://trlangepoetry-nefws.wordpress.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/10/tristanrobertlange-ghosted-download.pdf For viewing only. Please do not reproduce or redistribute without permission.
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- Views: 30
- Users favorite of this poem: Friendship, Salvia.S, Teddy.15
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Comments8
Your writing was somewhat perplexing today, it presented quite a challenge for me. The poem seems to serve as a cathartic exploration of the speaker’s feelings regarding their relationship, addressing both the beauty of shared experiences and the pain of feeling like an outsider in their own life narrative. The act of remembering and reflecting is an attempt to reconcile those feelings and to understand the evolution of love.🤔👍❤️
My friend, I’m grateful for the care you gave this read…your effort was worth it because you saw through to the heart of this. Yes, it’s catharsis and confusion all braided together, a memory that refuses to fade or fully forgive. You captured that beautifully in your reflection. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛ Glad you took the challenge and stuck through it, my friend!
Should it be 'ghosted' in the title?! Erm, the title 'ghotsted' - Popeye said it sounds a bit like 'glug-glugged'. He would say that! lol.
And - good write - and all that too, wot Friendship said!
How can I understand anything cryptic with Popeye always buzzing in me ears, nattering about spinach, etc?!
Whatever do you mean? 🤔 It seems 'ghotsted" got ghosted. That's what happens when you__________, Popeye! Now, knock it off! Sorry, Orchi...he keeps painting. With what? Don't answer that! All jokes aside, thanks for the read and the catch! No, Popeye! Put that spin...glug...erm, too late. 🤣
You probably had Popeye on your mind when you wrote the title - ghotshed sounded a bit like 'glug-glug'. lol. Will you stop, Popeye? Let Obi and Ol' Tom get a word in!
Here is the image of a mask maybe a ghost that appears in the text referring to the relationship. A painting like the text refers to. Relationships are complex as is this poem and at times over time become ghosts or just pictures like a painting that one looks at and from different perspectives different focuses see different things. Well done.
Soren, I love that you saw all that in it…especially the mask and the painting. The layers were intentional, memory inside memory, like looking at your own reflection through glass. Glad it spoke that way. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️ Thank you, as always, for your time and support.
It is always a pleasure my friend
The one that gets the plaudits, and the ones that did the work.
It's like the film edits at the end where the words, ''others'' come at the end and in a way they're marginalised into nothing.
Some will say that's life, but it still leaves an imprint.
My friend, powerful reflection…yes, the unsung ones...the “others”...carry the weight long after the credits roll. That’s the haunting I meant to leave behind. Glad it delivered! 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
This felt to me having a conversation with ones self, but stripping out all the layers of protection built up over the years,like the mask, to try to get an understanding of who we really are , what events happened along the way to makes us who we are today. Possibly breaking down memory barriers that have been there since childhood, very complex and intriguing write. I feel there is so much more to this than I will probably understand, enjoyed the read
If there's no point in trying to hide behind it anymore and for whatever reason or reasons .. i think it best to jot it down sharpish so as to prevent loosing it .. or it becoming diluted over time .. that way, reading between the lines stands less chance of getting or being corrupted by individual interpretations and or perceptions .. the narrative has amazing flow and is quite literally mind blowing .. I see both a mask and a skull .. it feels like the narrator/poet/artist has both asked and also provided the answers to the questions posed or otherwise arising from said visit .. and that takes some bloomin doing .. Neville 🎭💀😎🐦⬛🖤🐧🐈⬛⚫💀🎭⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐👍
🥲Tristan - much as I like much of your work, I'm leaving this one alone...I'm out of my depth...
🤣 you know me, I'm a sucker for a love theme. 🌹
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