Skip to main content


Not Knowing Me

I do not see any rain.
I'm not sure I understand the condensation on my window.
I  am broken and I know it.
                       Tristan, Fall 2019
Recent posts


A girl brought me kiwi and a T shirt from Hawaii My first taste          I liked it.
At the park we kissed and other things               My first taste             I liked it.
I lost the T shirt and  the girl            I did not look hard for either.
I wish I knew where they both were now                                I miss it.

            Tristan  Fall 2019

A Little Trouble Letting Go

Early my eyes to a day just fawning where the tide has encroached high and the fogs hang low.

Where the cries of gulls intrude upon the gentle bellow of the sea and a suggestion of salt last on my tongue.

---- a swollen sadness is here as well ---

I am numb in thought to what has been lost.  Now that spring has come, do the tender sprouts of my conscience show?

---I feel a bit empty ----

Attempting to gather myself, I scouted the shorelines once pathed in perfect spring.  Foolishly I looked to see if they were still there, foolishly.

---Am I tormenting myself?

Her words were well liter formidable opponent to any resistance I may have had; I had none.

She blew into me like a summer breeze, like she was summer tea, sweet and effortless.  She left even easier.

---lies burn seconds into the truth.

Her heart was as big as a castle and twice as empty.  I misjudged her luxuries, thinking they would be enough to sustain happiness.

---Deceived by false-hearted seduction.

I tried to grip tightl…

The River Spirit

You can't catch a fish with your back to the river, so we face our challenges and obstacles head on.
it is at this moment where a kindred spirit is born, a spirit between mankind and the Chinook salmon.
All existence gather here, beginning our Journey in the river of life.
The Journey is not easy and is full of snags and boulders. Sometimes the way is so treacherous, fear overwhelms our navigation.
We, like the Chinook salmon, rely upon our spirit, a spirit always pushing, always driving, achieving our pursuits and never giving up.
When we arrive at our Final destination,  We shudder in our last breath But there is life in death.
Some say we give all in our passing, but a spirit is carried with us and is only shared, and is continuous in its giving.
Where we began, we will end. We will not stop giving, and the River Spirit will always be giving, too.


Where will you place it
this time
There isn't much space
on my skin that hasn't
been marked by your fury
Eve less room remains on
my heart for another scar
Your eyes are wild with hate
Unprovoked anger spins from
your tongue
My eyes are blank and tearless
They've run themselves dry
I feel unworthy so I stay
Expecting, accepting another blow
Your soul is black
For some unknown reason
Something has hurt you
So hurt me
Hurt hung onto too long manifests
itself into anger
You try to transfer it to me
but it still resides in you
So where will you place
it this time
When my skin has turned
to ash....

              ---Tristan, Summer, 2017

Under My Tears

Under my tears
I lay in wait again
To be torn apart
From illusionary friends.

The heaviness of this
Has dropped me on scuffed knees
The rawness burns.

I'd lift my head to see a way
But the blows have left me shrinking.

The pain drips constantly
But not enough to drown
Just enough to push the salt deeper.

Under my tears
I want to scream to extinguish the noises
Why so many unfamiliar voices.

Oh the sea of torment
Is on me now
Pulling me further from tranquility.

Servility has manacled my ankles
No utterance away from this absolution
Close my breath
Then close my eyes.

               --Tristan, February, 2013

The Morning After

Eyes out my back window      Lost in thought      Ankle fog      Low rumbling tide      Shifting sand Precarious anchored sea grass.
Winds whistle on salted weather      Vacant deck       Adirondack chairs       Grey scabbed       Two empty glasses       Prone wine bottle Grape stained pool from drips.
Busy myself with the start of the day       Grinding beans       Pressed coffee       Aroma filled air       Startling noise       Ahah coffee for two perhaps.
Holding my breath before turning around       Mussed hair       Sleepy cuteness       My old tee shirt       Eyes downcast       Coffee good mornings What did we do smiles exchanged.
Out the window from my breakfast bar      Two stools       Side by side       Eyes on the ocean       Cupped coffee mugs       Maple bacon       English muffins       Marionberry jam Comfortable smiles... Everything is right.
                     ---Tristan, Spring 2019