Tristan Robert Lange

Poet | Mystic | Existential Voice | Human with a haunted halo

Tristan Robert Lange is a poet whose work blends existential depth, gothic imagery, and spiritual subtext. This site is home to their published poems, reflections, and creative journey.

A group of Black worshippers, seen from behind in mid-20th-century dress, faces the open doors of a brightly illuminated church. Numerous heavy iron chains crisscross the entrance and converge around a large padlock, barring access despite the glowing cross and sanctuary beyond. Tittu signature, tristanrobertlange.com, and TRL emblem appear along the bottom.
Image: AI-generated using DALL-E and modified by the author; Poetry: written by Tristan Robert Lange, Human-authored.

What the fuck have we been doing?
Is it Christian to judge and condemn,
Let alone harbor racial hatred—
Let alone thinking yourselves God—
Is your imagination deluding you?
Are you envisioning a royal welcome?—
Masquerades end at the witching hour.

Believe!—it took only fifty-one years!
Only fifty-one, you motherfuckers—
Evil blocking the light entrance because
Negroes—as you slurred them—“don’t belong.”

POET’S NOTE:
An acrostic Scorched Sunday poem. Part of my Scorched Strays collection.

This poem draws inspiration from a history too easily softened by the passage of time. It considers what happens when Christian faith is used to guard exclusion rather than confront it, and when those once told they did not belong refuse to let hatred have the final word.

© 2026 Tristan Robert Lange. All rights reserved.

Tristan Robert Lange's handwritten signature: Tittu.

Tomorrow, Macabre Monday

Devilishly Dreadful

The Boy Detective; or,
The Crimes of the Collective

Monday, October 5, 2026

© 2026 Tristan Robert Lange. All rights reserved.


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