Notice of absence from Tristan Robert Lange
Friends, I’m doing my best to keep up with comments. 😅 I’m still current on my own poems and first replies on others’ work, but this season has been a bit of a twister. Figured I’d drop a quick note so you don’t think I’ve vanished or gone flaky.
Read. Write. Rise. Realize. 🤘💀🖤
Friends, I’m doing my best to keep up with comments. 😅 I’m still current on my own poems and first replies on others’ work, but this season has been a bit of a twister. Figured I’d drop a quick note so you don’t think I’ve vanished or gone flaky.
Read. Write. Rise. Realize. 🤘💀🖤
....for arqios. a poetic response to his poem, “Cartography of Echoes” (published December 30, 2025) on MyPoeticSide.
a
light
marks a point
in space, a focal point,
an orb called star—
an orb called star—
memory—
no THING more.
no THING more.
seen—
not there—
within a constellation
of focal
not there—
within a constellation
of focal
points
each burning
with their own brilliance,
generating light
until the memory
is all that seemingly
with their own brilliance,
generating light
until the memory
is all that seemingly
remains.
the keen eye
zeroes in on the
liminal space between
the remaining lights—
a new focal point—
conscientia e absentia.
conscientia e absentia.
the
light
not a storm,
but a supernova—
the catastrophic
coll-
ap-
se
of a core—
a strong center
corroded into
nothing more.
still,
i implore,
to see the miracle
that what takes shape
happens in the void,
we often fail to see
let alone
i implore,
to see the miracle
that what takes shape
happens in the void,
we often fail to see
let alone
explore.
perception
sees what’s brightest,
the largest implosion,
which glares out the truth
it has yet to
reach.
the supernova sprays—
not as event horizon—
neutron star seeds,
fertilizing the
negative
space.
not as event horizon—
neutron star seeds,
fertilizing the
negative
space.
as the
eye pulls
away and
eye pulls
away and
focuses outward
at the surrounding stars,
it becomes clear they—
ever birthing and dying—
create a changing
constellation,
constellation,
a collection,
a body of
work.
work.
pull
the eye’s focus
further outward in scope
and behold—
the eye’s focus
further outward in scope
and behold—
as fair and true,
another constellation,
another collection,
another body
of brilliant
stars,
another collection,
another body
of brilliant
stars,
some still shining,
others merely memory
of what
others merely memory
of what
was.
each orb,
each spark of flame,
each sacred solar strobe
a wonderful witness
that echos,
each spark of flame,
each sacred solar strobe
a wonderful witness
that echos,
like lyra’s song—
which still remains
regardless of
cygnus’ lofty lift—
we are not
which still remains
regardless of
cygnus’ lofty lift—
we are not
alone.
© 2026 Tristan Robert Lange. All rights reserved.
First published on tristanrobertlange.com, March 9, 2026.
First published on tristanrobertlange.com, March 9, 2026.
Tittu
-
Author:
Tristan Robert Lange (
Online) - Published: March 9th, 2026 07:15
- Comment from author about the poem: I’m published in an anthology featuring authors from across the Poconos, PA. All proceeds benefit the Pocono Liars Club — a collective of authors and editors dedicated to supporting and mentoring local writers. Available in paperback and Kindle, please consider purchasing one and supporting a great cause. https://a.co/d/58uxM69
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 4
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett
- In collections: The Thinking Dark.
Online)
Comments1
An exploration of the cosmos and its splendor a reveling of mechanics and workings within the watch that keeps our time. A beautiful work Tristan that if one dives very deep is a metaphor of emotions and their workings within us. After all we are a part of this cosmos so why what applies to one should now apply to another under the same physics and its laws. Very nicely done and its form flows in that same display. A fave my friend
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