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.
© 2026 Tristan Robert Lange. All rights reserved.
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: 34
- Users favorite of this poem: Carlos Alberto BUSTILLOS, Lorenz, nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson), Paul Bell
- In collections: Scorched Strays.
Offline)
Comments10
I remember Rich Mullins from long ago, now. Good acrostic, Tittu 🙏🏻🕊️
Thank you, my friend! His music and witness have stayed with me through the years. ⏳🎹🔥🙏
Dear Rich Mullins.
Indeed, Missy. Gone far too soon. ⏳🎹🔥🙏
Funny thing about the circumstances surrounding his death is that's how two other high profile individuals I either admired or cherished likewise died. Curious. My brother was the same age when he died.
I’m so sorry, Missy. That connection must make the circumstances feel especially haunting…not merely part of someone else’s history, but bound to someone you loved. Much love to you, my friend. 🖤🙏🦇🐦⬛
Thank you.
I forget I have to always look for acrostics with you Tristan. So many atrocities committed in the name of righteousness. Well written Tristan
You know me, Soren…there’s usually something hiding in plain sight! 🤣 This history demands honesty, however painful it is. Thank you, my friend. Always appreciated. ⏳🎹🔥🙏
Love it Tristan I too often take pleasure in writing in metaphors or a different dual level in a poem just to see if anyone notices it. You are very welcome Tristan
Haha, we’re guilty of the same poetic mischief, Soren! Hide the second doorway, step back, and wait to see who opens it. Always a pleasure, my friend. 🖤🙏🦇🐦⬛
How can people worship some poor guy nailed to a board without it leave a mark on the collective unconscious ?
Exactly, Lorenz. Yet somehow many identify with the empire rather than the one it executed. ⏳🎹🔥🙏
beautiful and a fav
Many thanks, Norman! Your support means a lot, my friend. ⏳🎹🔥🙏
most welcome
This has a stark, almost prophetic quality. It feels like a fragment from a larger poem, but there’s already a strong tension between time, religion, music, and historical memory.
The opening is especially intriguing:
“Ragamuffin records sober
Inside an empty, abandoned
Church—shaped like a watch—
His time about to expire.”
That church/watch image does a lot. The abandoned church represents a fading institution, while its watch-like shape makes the building itself a symbol of time running out. And “ragamuffin records sober” has an intentionally strange, almost surreal texture.
Thank you, Thomas! There is indeed a much larger story behind these lines. Rich Mullins made those rough recordings in an abandoned church only nine days before his death, so the approaching expiration is tragically literal. I wanted that final creative act to open outward into the lives and history he had chosen to stand beside. Much appreciated, my friend. ⏳🎹🔥🙏
No way, Rich was coming back from the dead, but he left his mark.
Quite intrigued by a religious song writer. Did sales go up when he died, and was the legend born.
Haha, no comeback tour from beyond the grave, Paul! I can’t say whether sales jumped, but Rich was already a major figure. “Awesome God” was everywhere, Amy Grant had recorded his work, and his albums were highly regarded. His death and The Jesus Record deepened the legacy…it didn’t create it. If you’ve never seen the film Ragamuffin, about his life…it’s well worth the watch. Anywho, thanks, my friend. Always appreciated!⏳🎹🔥🙏
Check him out now.
Ooh. Nice. Rock on, my friend!
Ohh, we hear the oppression of Popeye & Co, calling out for..... oh you know the stuff - spinach, wool for knitting, and more sabers. An odd assortment there. Why? WCAT!!
Orchi, absolute chaos! Brutus has seized Ol’ Tomás Knitworks, Wan Ken is circling the WCAT tower, and Popeyeus Glug Maximaus Solus has vanished into Uranus. Why? You already know…WCAT! 📻🤣⏳🙏
Had to sit down with this one. Worth the sit though, Tristan.
Not ignorant re the churches hand in hand with colonialism but need to sus out Mr Mullins as we have not been properly introduced (I’m deficient in so many ways🙃). His vioce is so raw. Pain?
Much appreciated, Dave. Yes…there was considerable pain in Rich, including depression, alcohol, loneliness, and a restless relationship with institutional Christianity. Those final microcassette recordings leave him especially exposed. They were recorded nine days before he died. I’d recommend the film Ragamuffin as a solid introduction. ⏳🎹🔥🙏
a good acrostic message..
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