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.



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

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

It still hasn’t stopped me from craving you.

~Edward Austin Robertson~


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.


She grabbed
the meat of my
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
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,
the evening
and the people
we’d turn into
became less
and less
far away.

~Edward Austin Robertson


23 Aug

She asked me
if I wasn’t
playing games,

dating crazy
for the
sake of experience.

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

I laughed
of every single
night spent

alone in
my apartment

and listening to
Gram Parsons

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

“Trust me”
I said.

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

I can’t take
any more

I’d rather
give up
than endure
such craziness

It aint
worth it.”

Yet it came
much sooner
than I expected.

Once again
I’m staring
at a computer

wishing that
I was a better

with the
to examine
other things
in life

television shows
or depraved
and depressed

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

~Edward Austin Robertson

Newer Poems

23 Aug


Staring out the bus window
at various rock sediments
enormous pastures of white
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
to yet
all that

especially if
the juice wasn’t
worth the squeeze.

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

We both deserved
better than

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

My conscience
had barely
recovered from that trip.

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

But when
would enough
be enough?

When could things
just be alright
for me?

the next city
the next project
the next woman.

Who the fuck
did I think
I was?

Shel Silverstein?
Even he died alone.

is a real

~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.”

Smoke breaks

15 Aug

Are ridiculous to me. Why do smokers get to take five minutes every hour to smoke a cigarette and kill themselves and us non-smokers only get our customary meal break? Shouldn’t we get rewarded for being healthier? I hear smoker’s arguments all the time. “I’m addicted to cigarettes and addiction is a disease. Bad things happen when I don’t get my nicotine fix.”

Well tough. What if I was a sex addict? So let’s be fair. Would I get to take a five minute wack-off break every two hours? Bad things happen when I don’t get my Jergen’s fix.

Catching Up

15 Aug

I only talk shit about Oklahoma because I care. It has the potential to be a really neat state.

A lot has happened this summer. Been quite eventful. Moved back to Tulsa after spending a season in Oregon recording “Where Da White Women At?”

A lot going on. Got my old job back as a counselor, wrote another manuscript to send off, and now getting ready to see some far away stuff. It didn’t happen the way I thought it would, plans changed over and over again but was still able to make what I wanted happen.

Still gonna make those trips happen. Though I’m disappointed in not being able to visit Mexico. My aunt told me it was bad, and that “Obama said ‘it was dangerous’ to go down there.” But I shrugged it off–he’s the effing president of the United States, and he’s black. He’s not safe in any part of the world.

But then I kept hearing stuff about tourists getting snatched up like money at a dice game. People getting gunned down at the border execution style. But when I heard real live Mexicans saying this, I knew it was true. So there went that trip to Mazatlan, and Guadalajara. Only 137 bucks to take a day bus ride. But not worth it all.

The biggest disappointment was my dream of finding a Mexican woman and bringing her back to my royal squalor.

“Aye Roberto, you have so much room in your 3 bedroom mansion.”

“Nah baby this is a one bedroom one bathroom with a walk in closet.”

“You only have one roommate Roberto? You ever get lonely?”

“No its tight quarters around here.”

“Do you have to boil your agua?”


“Oh Roberto this is so wonderful. And look. Your sleeping bag will be so much more comfortable than the straw mat I had in my adobe hut. Es muy paradiso Roberto. Make love to me like the World Cup champion you told me you were.”

“Alright baby, let’s make juevos rancheros.”


ITs cool working again though its been strange. I was unemployed for like four months, got a big boy job for like two months, then went back to my lower paying, but fun gig at the shelter.

I was making good money but the job was full of meetings and trainings, like I was in school again. I always thought that was the whole point of getting a degree–so I wouldn’t have to sit with my notepad and pen and doodle while someone was talking.

I feel lied to. This is what I took out all those loans for?

Its not like the old days of poverty. I could count on that loan check to come in to go from broke to baller.

“Yes I have 2,000 dollars in my account. I can buy 500 packs of Ramen noodles. I’ll eat like shit for five months and then buy a guitar with the remaining cash. I’ll be playing like Hendrix in no time.”

Five months later, broke again, and the guitar lays in the corner barely touched, strings out of tune from two days of playing with no ideas about chord structure, frets, or scales.

Now I have a small check that comes in bi-monthly that I must put away for bigger ambitions, not really using my Literature degree for anything.

But I love my job now. Love hanging out with kids, and picking their brains. All that angst, and these particular kids who come my way usually have bigger problems than hormones and sadistic peers.

ITs crazy to know that it will be much harder for them down the road. I can’t recommend college for most of them. School is not the way to go, and they know it early on. Better off getting them enrolled in trade schools at 14 and 15. At least they’ll be able to use that skill. No one has ever paid me 20 an hour to read books all day and critique them. Maybe there is a job like that but I like doing other things besides reading all day.

So what do you tell these kids today? There’s hope just over the rainbow as soon as these wars end. Our economy is screwed. Foreigners come over here to up to spend money like we’re Canada or Mexico. Things have to change.

WE have to become more resourceful, less wasteful and now. I don’t know if education is the answer. Maybe it is. But we have so many who are uneducated and we value stupidity over ingenuity here in our country.

How can we say we value education when its impossible to go to school and afford to live. I’d love to get a master’s degree but by the time I got out I’d be in debt twice the amount of my yearly salary.

Barack gets a lot of the blame but if the U.S. were a car, it’d be a ’68 Mustang with a bad motor and ripped up interior. Great reputation for being a classic, but needing a lot of overhaul. Barack was handed the keys to a lemon of a country.

Here in Oklahoma Obama is hated. Some people have been quoted as saying he’s anti-American, that he sides with his Muslim brothers. These people actually get quoted in the Tulsa World. I couldn’t believe the shit I was reading. These idiots are the people who eventually have their kids as my clients.

Oklahoma is still stuck in the 1920’s. When black people knew their place and men didn’t molest little girls because they could just marry them. Forget about mass transit systems and ecology. Forget about pumping some money into schools and teachers. Lay em off, lay off the police force too. Congress here’s our share of the national defense money.

Meanwhile the economy worsens, and the need for social services become higher, and hence I still have a job…….”WHAT A COUNTRY!!!!!”

New Mantra for Bobby

14 Aug

Never again will I waste energy on an emotionally unavailable person.