Archive | August, 2010

Five Years

30 Aug

This has been a funny five year stretch. Started off in 2006 driving away from Denton, Texas with no idea of where I was going, or if I’d be back.
I just needed the time and space to ponder my life.

Through that time there have been many affairs, romances, flings, trists.
But also lots of ups and downs. Met many new faces, and seen some older but still friendly ones quite recently. Had you told me then I’d end up in Oklahoma I’d have laughed. Oklahoma, more like Oklahomo (genous)

But its been good to me. I’ve actually thrived here in the red dirt region.

But those five years have been pretty educcational. All that traveling has been fruitful. All those experiences have paid off. And so I gathered material for my literary projects, and that’s been my main focus for the last few years.

But I’m seeing something different in my future. A life of scholarly academia. A life of teaching..corrupting young minds.

I have two more books of poetry (and possibly a best of collection) a few short stories, and a couple other projects that will be completed by next year.

Then I will dive into a full fledged career as either educator or public servant. I will spend my new found free time learning how to paint and play music. I’ll take Tai Chi classes and boxing lessons. Learn to dance the Merengue, Tango and Salsa.

I will save up money to travel during the summers, and slowly paying off that debt accumulated in the past decade.

This fall I’ll be leaving for the east coast. I will be in upstate New York. I will be in Massachusetts, I will be on a train going through the Canadian Rockies. Hopefully the Borealis will meet me there, to finish a conversation we started back in Fairbanks, Alaska–circa ’08.

The end of this era of Bobb is slowly approaching. The next few months are going to be a lot of fun.

Craving

30 Aug

I became an addict for your love
a junky for your energy
your smooth milky skin
your electric eyes and dazzling smile.

You always told me it wasn’t for real.
I promised not to get attached.
You said “This is it. Go on
move along, and you’ll meet some better
someone amazing.”

You were right
and I knew it even then.
It still didn’t keep me from coming back.

Wanting a little more.
Just another taste
even if it wasn’t good for me.

I wasn’t conditioned to desire
the healthy things in life.

I’m still learning the difference
between what I want
and what I need.

Still learning the discipline
of saying no.

Despite having paid for
therapy

and though we
couldn’t be more
wrong for each other,

It still hasn’t stopped me from craving you.

~Edward Austin Robertson~

Bookmarked

23 Aug

I could feel her smooth calves touching mine
beneath the table.

The tiki torches were lit
and the smell of
the grill
wafted about
as we all sat and
talked about nothing.

A table full of Canucks–most
of them grad students,
and me on a
Friday night in Toronto.

I’d decided to stay
an extra night to
hang out with her
and her nice,
but unremarkable friends.

I was starting to think
that we’d found a good
stopping point
when her little
hand ran across my thigh
and my palm
caressed her arm.

(Goosebumps!!!)

She grabbed
the meat of my
thigh
and asked if I’d like
another beer.

I gave her
a quick nod
and wink
and finished off
the last
of the bottle
I already had.

Unaware that the
worst was yet
to come,
all the
depressingly
terrible
things we’d do
and say
to each other
in the months ahead.

She went back in
to the kitchen
closing the door
behind her,
while
the evening
grew
darker
and the people
we’d turn into
became less
and less
far away.

~Edward Austin Robertson

Material

23 Aug

She asked me
once
if I wasn’t
just
playing games,

dating crazy
women
for the
sheer
sake of experience.

Loving and leaving
with
every arbitrary
whim to
gain material
for another book.

I laughed
incredulously,
thinking
of every single
night spent

alone in
my apartment

drinking
whiskey
and listening to
Gram Parsons

in hopes that
writing would help
me get over
the most
recent disintegrating
relationship.

“Trust me”
I said.

“If that’s
what it
takes
to write
a good poem,
consider me
retired.

I can’t take
any more
drama.

I’d rather
give up
writing
than endure
such craziness
again.

It aint
worth it.”

Yet it came
much sooner
than I expected.

Once again
I’m staring
at a computer
screen

wishing that
I was a better
writer.

One
with the
ability
to examine
other things
in life
like

nature
rocks
snakes
desert
trees
clouds
skylines
television shows
or depraved
and depressed
people.

I’d rather
write about anything
besides
my latest
heartbreak
with her.

~Edward Austin Robertson

Newer Poems

23 Aug

Ambitious

Staring out the bus window
at various rock sediments
and
enormous pastures of white
knowing
I shouldn’t question myself.

Something great
on the horizon
but I also
knew I’d
left behind
a good woman

though I wasn’t
sure if five-six
months of good sex
would be worth
what I’d
miss out on.

Perhaps it’d be better
to get this
“White Line Fever”
out of my system

before I was
going to attempt
to do any
settling down.

We’d have probably
been okay
but the thought
of being an
emotional
babysitter
to yet
another
woman
didn’t
sound
all that
appealling

especially if
the juice wasn’t
worth the squeeze.

Be hard
to justify
staring off
into space
while she
chirped away
about the
things
rattling
around in her brain.

We both deserved
better than
that.

Besides I’d
taken that
route before
dragging two
people
through the mud
in the process.

My conscience
had barely
recovered from that trip.

This was the right
decision
and I knew so
because it
hurt the most.

But when
would enough
be enough?

When could things
just be alright
for me?

Always
onto
the next city
the next project
the next woman.

Who the fuck
did I think
I was?

Shel Silverstein?
Even he died alone.

Ambition
is a real
motherfucker.

~Edward Austin Robertson~

Man of God

17 Aug

That’s right. I’m in business. Ordained minister at your service. Weddings, circumcisions, Hell I can even start my own church. But I’m gonna be handing out marriage licenses like hotcakes. Bmick the rogue minister–like a comic book character. Traveling the country performing weddings and excorcisms. They’ll make a movie about me, Donald Glover will star as me.

And as you can see, the proof is in the pudding.

All you gotta do is ask and I'll bless your nuptials before the state of your choosing.

Arctic chicks

17 Aug

“Yeah man I like them Arctic chicks.”

“You mean like Eskimo chicks?”

” Nah man, like the Arctic. Coooooooold and frigid.”