Nine Days Poem, by Tristan Robert Lange, at My poetic side

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 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦‍⬛

Ragamuffin records sober

Inside an empty, abandoned

Church—shaped like a watch—

His time about to expire.

Music is a divine language—

Universal and untamed—

Listen to the voice of the oppressed.

Listen!—can you not hear it?

It’s the sound of crying—

Native ghosts on the Trail of Tears—

Scions of Christendom’s cruelty.

First published on tristanrobertlange.com, August 16, 2026.

Tittu

Author: Tristan Robert Lange ( Offline)
Published: August 16th, 2026 05:45
Comment from author about the poem: An acrostic Scorched Sunday poem. Part of my Scorched Strays collection, Rock Band Edition. This poem draws inspiration from a ragamuffin songwriter whose restless faith carried him beyond Christian celebrity and into life and music among the Navajo. Reflecting upon his final rough recordings, it listens for the voices of Indigenous peoples still crying beneath Christendom’s legacy.
Category: Unclassified
Views: 1
In collections: Scorched Strays.