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Beaten

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

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Introducing a New Writer -- Tristan

Tristan is the pen name of a young writer from the Oregon Coast.  A fisherman and a poet, he writes from the perspective of a new deeply involved wordsmith, in expressing himself through the written word, and enriching his soul.  He wants to share his journey with you, and to share his creativity and his words with you.

In Tristan's life, there have been crises, struggles, and challenges.  His courage and his character to deal with life's obstacles is reflected in his writing.

"I want my work to flow like a wild river, carving its own path.  The river is sometimes inhibited by dams that suspend the natural flow of something. I want people to feel something, feel uncomfortable, feel sad, hurt, broken, happy, but just feel."

Tristan's poems have been published in "The Echo" newsletter and Honoring Our Rivers (2018), an anthology of writing by inmates of the Eastern Oregon Correctional Institution, in Pendleton, Oregon.

The Raven and the Sailor

The cottonwood and the hemlock trees
mingle in the lower pastures
Standing high by riverside
eyeing the flood of love's disasters.

To where I follow a raven's fate
who scouts in pallid skies
for mate designed for only he
if knowest tears he'd cry.

Toward western skies in askance flies
the raven with dirge on his heart
His sorry I borrow like it's
my tomorrow
A burden of grief in cart.

The river a path that has
come to a crash
with vastness so large evokes
shivers
With nothing to follow his
heart has been swallowed
How will he spot a lost
love's quivers?

When darkness falls his longing
still calls and body implores him rest
But sleep won't come
Until he's undone
Bound to an eternal quest.

Just before the dawn awakes
I set for bountied seas
The raven perched upon the stern
of my ocean faring steed.

Beyond the port between the jetties
across the bar we flee
New mates akin by broken hearts
He with I and I with he.

Briskly arriving a smile on the day
pouncing to…