Notice of absence from Tristan Robert Lange
Life is full of seasons. This is a season of transition for me, where I will be moving with my family to a new location. As such, with much logistics to consider, I am doing my best to keep up. Please know if I accidentally don't respond, it is not because I am ghosting or becoming distant. Once things settle after the move, I am sure life will return to some normalcy. In the meantime, and always:
Read 👓, Write ✍️, Rise 🌅, Realize 🤯.
Tristan 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Life is full of seasons. This is a season of transition for me, where I will be moving with my family to a new location. As such, with much logistics to consider, I am doing my best to keep up. Please know if I accidentally don't respond, it is not because I am ghosting or becoming distant. Once things settle after the move, I am sure life will return to some normalcy. In the meantime, and always:
Read 👓, Write ✍️, Rise 🌅, Realize 🤯.
Tristan 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
irises roll northward
into the hollowed recesses
of the liminal,
the cavern in between
death’s calcified face
and the cosmic kaleidoscope
of unequivocal unknowing.
© 2026 Tristan Robert Lange. All rights reserved.
First published on tristanrobertlange.com, July 23, 2026.
Tittu
-
Author:
Tristan Robert Lange (
Offline) - Published: July 23rd, 2026 07:46
- Comment from author about the poem: Part of The Thinking Dark collection.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 26
- Users favorite of this poem: Teddy.15, sorenbarrett
- In collections: The Thinking Dark.

Offline)
Comments4
The iris is one of my favourite blooms, and the national flower of Firenze, this is really deeply beautiful as if you know someone so well, yet not at all. 🌹
Thank you, Teddy! I began with the eye, but you’ve opened the door for the flower as well...beauty growing at the threshold of the unknowable. That's absolutely profound and I thank you for sharing that insight. Much appreciated, my friend. 💀🔮🖤🙏
💜 national colour is viola just in case you ever wander why my hearts are this colour 🌹
Irises that control the amount of light entering the eye may be metaphoric controlling the amount of light (knowledge or truth) entering what we can understand. North the Masonic direction from which comes all instinctual knowledge. The mention of liminal or boundary between to me signifies that fuzzy area of awareness where things seem instinct blending into common sense where things are felt but can not be rationalized and here is the unknowing for all things contain a bit of this. Clever wording makes this poem work well where the mind and the ear roll all into a polished ball that seems to roll off the tongue and into the brain. Nicely done my friend
What an extraordinary reading, Soren! You found pathways within this absolutely get to the heart of it, even if I had not fully mapped it out while writing. I love when that happens, actaully. Your insight into north especially gave me something entirely new to contemplate. Always grateful for the depth you bring, my friend. 💀🔮🖤🙏
great wording in this piece, sometimes the more we think we know we actually know less
Exactly, Norman! The abyss has a wicked way of humbling anyone who stares too confidently into it. Much appreciated, my friend. 💀🔮🖤🙏
most welcome friend
All we know about is Popeye & Co's antics! lol. A Mr Hunt has joined them. Why? WCAT!
Why has Mr Hunt joined them, Orchi? Perhaps he is searching for unequivocal tomato paste...poor bastard has clearly boarded the wrong cartoon! WCAT indeed! 🤣 💀🔮🖤🙏
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.