Greening, Part 2: Nostalgia

Illustration for Part 2: Nostalgia of the poem "Greening" by Robert Lutz

In the dead of winter
I looked at you

Drumming up all the summer
heat courage I could muster

Yet you found my broken passion
Lackluster—sorry, buster

A good supplicant is hard to break

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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

Level Head

Illustration for the poem "Level Head" by Robert Lutz

Back and forth
South, north
Standing, talking
Chuckling, walking

Sights obscene
Sounds unwanted
Hands untied
Mind haunted

Slithering, bickering
Criminal lingering
Intentional bling-bling
Ghostly thing

Raw umbrella
Soaking rain
Blasphemous traits
Sunny smile

Same disposition
Different demeanor
Oppressed and angry
Hanging in tight

Level head
Wide birth
Bronze hair
Brown lion

Ghostly play of sights and sounds
Run-down dogs and dirty hounds
Broken nuns in brown bikinis
Purple sinks and eerie scenics

Elevator pitch for nothing
Boiling mice and peanuts cushioning
Blows to the head and heart below
The banks are growing inward

Organ Recital, Part 3: Reflection

Illustration for Part 3: Reflection of the poem "Organ Recital" by Robert Lutz

All sundials are round
Round things render the world void of sound

Sound is silent when I recall those memories
Memorial houses, sights immemorial

All is metaphorical

Those ice cream cones never kept
Those vanilla scoops properly enshrined

Shrines for the gods
Gold shines in the light

The sundial first draws the circle, then the arc

Organ Recital, Part 2: Emotion

Illustration for Part 2: Emotion of the poem "Organ Recital" by Robert Lutz

They’re going
They’re glowing

They ain’t bowing
They are vowing

They’ll drive tent pole stakes
Into ten people snakes

No villagers are safe
From no pillagers in their graves

Opposition is not a spectator sport
Best to tremble in a corner, don’t attempt no retort

Blow past the stop sign, flying your white banner
Still you’ll be taken
—mistakenly, completely forsaken, your dreams will be shaken
—your name an aching inscription, left for dead in fading henna