Life/Waves

Illustration for the poem "Life/Waves" by Robert Lutz

Life is all
About the waves
That like thunder crash
Onto the shore
And drag the debris
Back Into the sea

Life is all
About landing ashore
Carried by the waves
And returning to the sea
Dragged by the waves
Yet carried by yourself

Life is all
About living in the sea
And riding the waves
From time to time
Never knowing when
But always again

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Learning to Float

Illustration for the poem "Learning to Float" by Robert Lutz

I am a decentered circle
my weight shifts and shifts
and falls and falls

I am trapped by my instability
weighed down by my weight

How much a star must suffer

No loose ends swim in my waters
I tie them all to my belt
dragging the load of certainly with me

Always upstream
never with the current
that is my path
my determination
my choice

My will is strong
but its content
undetermined

All I have is drive
but I channel it
into empty ravines

Remembrance and regrets
they too are part of venture

Life is too overwhelming
as that a single voice
could ever capture it all

I love you precisely because
you possess a strong commitment
to challenging paradigms of oppression

Float untied
The knot’s a noose

Should I fly
yes I should
I should sore like an eagle
but there is no flight
no reaching up high
without learning to float

Which birds are stupid
enough to fly carelessly
their flight is perilous
but skill carves out
a space for safety

Ode to Pascal

Illustration for the poem "Ode to Pascal" by Robert Lutz

Human life is the persistent effort to recreate
the order of nature in human thought

They say I’m too young

But I feel as if I’m slowly becoming more comfortable
with this paradigm called human life

I may soon be able to begin asserting myself
as a member of the human species
intent on producing that which he deems best suited
for you, me, and everyone I know

There’s a rupture of reality

But I think I can handle your intensity

Last Supper

Illustration for the poem "Last Supper" by Robert Lutz

He looked upon his disciples
and said

“He who casts the dice
will be vindicated”

Astonished, they stared
at him, mouths agape

Theirs was a long silence
Nobody dared to commence
a speech act

All actors speak in tongues
Every cheek needs a tongue
Every secret needs a cheek
to hide the folly of man

Speaking is a discipline
that can be learned

Every once in a while
a disciple needs a bite
to eat

Even the learned
feel the need
to chow down
on a fleshy piece
of mouthwatering sense
from time to time

Across all epochs
of humanity’s
sleepwaking state
the dreamer spoke up
when everyone else
lay still

He bit off a bit of his tongue
tasting the metal
swallowed the pint
and replied

“A dice throw is
akin to onion soup:
as you peel back
the layers, it stings
it takes a bite
out of you
At mealtime
you get your revenge
Supper is always
the last act for someone”

They buried him
in an unknown
unmarked mass grave
just days later
before the soup
could mature enough
to realize its full
potential

His eyes were red
They still had tears
inside them

He smiled a full-belly
smile saying

“The hungry know
how to feed themselves
Every discipline seeks out
its own disciples
Every disciple is subject
to his own discipline
Hunger and its limits are
known only to the hungry”

Greening, Part 3: Bouncing Castle

Illustration for Part 3: Bouncing Castle of the poem "Greening" by Robert Lutz

Terrible turbulence
is a torment for tacit souls

Illicit integration
is illegal for integral numbers

Progressive paralysis
is paradoxically prone to pulsations

The days of my soul
are numbered
According to your
indeterminate pulsations

My pulse got soul
Any number of beats
makes up a series of symphonies

Greening, Part 1: Visitation

Illustration for Part 1: Visitation of the poem "Greening" by Robert Lutz

Make-believe and medicine
Righteous grudge and apt chagrin

Camera obscura maybe
International music baby

Wisdom drowns the swan
Knights yearn for the fate of the pawn

You looked at me
I shed a tear

Honey hugged the grave
Elastic rubber saves

Santa got me a hammock this year
I hear you loud and clear

The end is near
Wish you were here

Intimation

Illustration for the poem "Intimation" by Robert Lutz

Heavy notes in heavy
boats of sound

Movement, both too much
and too little
too rocky too brittle
singing just a little

All trains no stops
just voices no boasting

Strange requests
too forceful
too exciting
too much shaking
I am jittery
Nothing more to
Say but “Ok let’s
do it”

Shaking in the past
Now settling slowly
and suddenly dropping
and drifting and
drifting through
sand and air
stuck without a stick

Now more now
more sullen oh
depth of perplexity
oh vast specters of
width and shrill
with painful contortion
who sings but the
singer and who
writes but him who
sounds the notes that
all sing together
and all alone

Why the sound
why the movement
yet stillness and
quiet inside and out
all around

Continuously producing
not products but value
I am the valuation
I am the sign and I
speak both too much
and too little and
the lines are short
because the pages
are narrow and beauty
beauty is hollow and
I rest inside of it
sitting leaning cleaning
myself as I watch
how it all happens

It all happens so
slowly but quick
nevertheless and I
am lost in the
sound of time
with the timeless
pulse of language
stringing words together
intimately words with
words and you with
me and others and
I with others deeply
but hollow sharing
sounds and kindness

Now fast and vast
the nasty chime of
broken worn-out strings
and worn-out and
warm hearts

May I sit there
or should I stand
and will you kneel
for me that is
the question is vast
and perturbing and
what I want as
I sway and shake
and tremble
trembling will you
tremble with me
or will I tremble for
you and you will
tremble for me
by yourself but not
for yourself and
why was that the
wrong response yet
it continues so loudly
and proudly how
do I partake
how do I participate

And why so much
more and more and
the tracks are being
rolled out further as
if they didn’t want to end
at all but had to
eventually like a note
that sounds but knows
it will come to rest
with the rest in the
heart why lover and
child can’t you hear
how sad this all is
sad and beautiful do you
want it would you
say “Let’s do it!”
Sing with me before
I die and we die
and I must sing and
cry because singing
is not enough

And the words flow
as the music unfolds
folds contracts and
folds into the contours
of your face the
face of God the
savior where we
wait and rest and
will you kneel for
me and do I want
you to do I really
really want it even
if it perturbs me
and makes me feel
ashamed

Echo

Illustration for the poem "Echo" by Robert Lutz

Each summer you were bound for the zenith
Each time I asked you, my rosy cheeks
made a mockery of the Marlboro man

Pain is an army of clouds
concealing northern blue saturation

If I turn on the light, I see you
dreaming out loud

How are we supposed to fill the sky together
if I drown every time you bat your eyes?

Somebody once wrote on a wall:
“I am not an easel”
Apply your rainbow paint and I shall
retreat into pure scarlet

Who will hazard a glance
once the evening dulls
the sparkle of the canvas fibers?

How I wish you would take me
along for the ride

Let me take you

My radiant zeppelin
You are glowing in the sky
breaking the color spectrum

Sense is my lifeline
with shivering hands
I grasp for it in vain

Will you show me the way?

I want to remain in your light
but my desire casts a shadow
onto the foothills of Mount Soul

It’s quite a hike getting up there
I can feel the winds up high down below
as I follow the breadcrumbs
strewn along the sole road

Birds smear the azure up above
their flight makes me dizzy

Who will take my hand
so that I can stave off
yet another fall?

Forgive me, my thoughts are sticky
but please don’t wipe them down
they’re the goo holding me together