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

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

Suspicious

Illustration for the poem

Let’s not retreat
yet
There’s much to gain
still
We’re wrong to think all is
hopeless

Our courage is yet to come
back
Still, remember we’re up
against
A hopeless cause, a useless
wall

No way we’re going back to the dead
laws
An eye for an eye, against all
expectations
Walls can’t shield from
failure

Coming Home

Illustration for the poem

Seeing you feels like coming home:

Full saturation of my heart,
my dreams chattering like timber

Everything stops for half a bar

I taste the moment
I touch life
I cherish
everything that is
a part of you and me

You sun-fired hearth
your joy envelops me
when I surrender

coming home.

Sea of Color

Sea of Color

I once dreamt that I was
swimming in a sea of color
my heart on fire
my head a cool blue

We were all green
brimming with hope
dreams and desire
no pebbles in our shoes

Our fortunes were not yet
dimming, flailing in vain
busted and for hire
masquerading as new

I climbed a hill that was
bickering with a puffy cloud
my legs admiring
the world we outgrew