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 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Sleepless on a mount—
Titanic terminal—
Row the boat; denied.
Engagement enterprise—
Seriously, no surprise—
Suck it up, butter in a cup.
Every movement is morose;
Damn! Alarm. I just laid down.
© 2026 Tristan Robert Lange. All rights reserved.
First published on tristanrobertlange.com, August 5, 2026.
Tittu
July 21, 2026
Mount Holly, NJ
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Author:
Tristan Robert Lange (
Offline) - Published: August 5th, 2026 06:10
- Comment from author about the poem: Part of the Wait. What?!? collection.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 4
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett
- In collections: Wait. What?!?.
Offline)
Comments3
I like this piece my friend, said well
Disjointed thoughts come together in this acrostic poem of stress. Just as thoughts bounce and return under stress they do in this poem as well. Time passes and the stress is emphasized in the word Titanic and the denial of action. Frozen on a sinking ship disaster certain. No surprises here one is left to suck it up. Now the alarm, one is not even able to rest, awakened even from one's nightmares to the real nightmares that the day holds. How quickly time passes. A lovely poem Tristan
The heated cup melts the butter slicking over as it topples and spills over. stress is such a cloying pain.🙏🕊️
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