Archive | poetry RSS feed for this section

Interleague Play

5 Nov

Someone threw a punch
out in the right field stands
“Big. Mistake.” I said.
Hit a female cop in the face
they all took a turn
beating the shit out of him.

As they hauled him off
I took a drink from the flask.
The guy in the next seat
offered me a little nip
the tasty whiskey
took the edge off the crazy game
.
Armando Benitez came in
to close out the ninth inning,
gave up three runs–
Giants’ fans were pissed
then grew silent.
One threatened to stab me
and any other A’s fans in the adjoining row.

The top of ninth inning over,seagulls
descended upon the trash and the garlic fries
as if they knew the game was already over.

~Edward Austin Robertson

Tags: ,

Vomit

3 Oct

Stumbled upon last week’s leavings
a result of too much Bacardi and
a failed attempt at acquiring a habit
(the one and only cigarette purchase I’d ever make)

There it was though;
the pieces of undigested wieners
mixed within the chunks of weird,
fuzz covered puke.
Not thinking I poured gasoline on it
and lit a match
only to see the flames climb
as high as the patio roof
licking the bottom of the ceiling.

Hose already in hand I flushed out the fire
before my aunt could turn around
from washing dishes in the sink.
A sure fire eviction avoided–but only barely.

Later that night,
while smoking with some friends in the backyard,
I lost it completely
when someone asked
about the smell of gasoline.
I doubled over and howled–
my body convulsing involuntarily from laughter.

“No seriously why does it smell like gas” he asked again.
I wiped the tears from eyes.
“Give me a minute man.
I’ll tell you when I get it together.”

~Edward Austin Robertson~

Tags: ,

Damage Control

11 Sep

He’d seen this movie before–
staring at his face in the mirror,
already feeling the pangs of guilt,
and he hadn’t even done anything yet.

This one was not as cute as his current gal.
No matter–
it is hard to quantify attraction.
There was something that brought him here
and now he’d have to answer for it.

Making out was pushing it (sort of)
not touching each other was skirting the line,
and mutual masturbation was definitely cheating
(But this nut was not going to bust itself).

The only way he’d be able to walk away from this
was to run—and his balls were far too full to do that.
Now was the time to decide
if it was worth lying about,
worth doing,
and worth the feeling he’d have
when he looked in the mirror the next day.

~Edward Austin Robertson

Tags: ,

Nocturne

11 Sep

The blinds were closed,
but I left the patio door open–
giving me access to the balcony whenever I needed to step out
into the spring breeze,
for the sights and sounds
of the not too distant highway.

It was not until late March
when I gave up chasing her
in an attempt to outrun my racing mind.
When I wasn’t piecing together notes on the guitar
I would blast Wild Nothing til 2 in the morning;
smoking dope and painting–
trying to steady my shaking hands
and unsteady psyche.

Only then would I allow myself a deep breath
to feel the present within me–
to forget the world outside my bedroom,
the trouble that I had created for myself,
and stop my brain from thinking destructive thoughts

~Edward Austin Robertson

Tags: , ,

What I Miss Most (For Alana)

2 Sep

Yearning for some sort of electronic exchange
pen to paper
expressing the essence of good company.

Yours was truly appreciated
something I that I seek out
even more so—having realized
that adult conversation can be much better
with the correct balance of pleasant and sober,
light and authentic.

To take for granted
while young how easy it came
and falsely assume that it will always be so.

But only after multiple false starts
short circuits
and frequent impasses
does the true meaning of what holds together friendships.

A glue that can’t be bought, sold or manufactured.

Am I wrong?

If so, point me in the right direction please.

~Edward Austin Robertson

Tags: ,

Run

28 Aug

A 6 AM conspiracy
to bounce leather balls against a concrete floor
before sun hits the sky
and the morning mist escapes the lake.

The early morning rush
of endorphins and sweat
almost worth the
hour and a half of lost sleep.

~Edward Austin Robertson

Tags: ,

His infant self

21 Aug

Woodside Queens, New York City, New York

He was a 14 yr. Old tyke
playing in his daddy’s closet
nestling in his daddy’s socks
curled up his daddy’s sweaters
tossing up his daddy’s knickers.

His daddy and his daddy’s buddy
cackling and taking photos.

What maniacs.
What could they possibly be laughing at?

Don’t they have better things to do than to laugh at babies rolling around
in a pile of laundry?

He was just a toddler.

What was their excuse?

~Edward Austin Robertson

Tags: ,

Atlantic

21 Aug

He emerged from the icy waters
heading towards the Ontario shore
where she greeted him with a warm smile
and a kiss.

At the time he’d never imagined feeling
so beautiful—such happiness with another person.

Five years later,
he was swimming in the upper northeast Atlantic
alone.

Every beach day still felt like the first time–
each entry a cleansing of sorts.

Thinking about her
and how different things were now.

Maybe he didn’t want her
maybe he wanted to be more like her
than with her.

Five years a bit too long to still care.
So much left to see and do.

~Edward Austin Robertson

Tags: ,

Gentleman

21 Aug

He considered leaving her there
passed out in her car

He even went into his apartment
and changed into his pajamas
but he knew he’d sleep poorly
with her slumped over steering wheel
in his parking lot.

He went outside and grabbed her,
put her on his shoulder
caveman style
and laid her in his bed.

He went back out and locked up her car.

When he got back inside she was sprawled out
on his twin bed. Legs and arms everywhere–
impeding any chance for a second body.

He’d be able to overlook this night of sloppiness
had he not already have dated a drunk before her.

Plus she was kind of a bitch–
who habitually littered.
Who has time for such nonsense?

It looked like he would be sleeping in his office tonight.
Oh well. Wouldn’t be the first time.

~Edward Austin Robertson

Tags: ,

No Headphones

22 Jun

2014-06-07 21.08.22

Nothing compares to seeing a full moon along the NYC skyline
as fireworks fill the night.
You can feel the electricity from the ground up
even when you sleep.
This city is a big machine with cogs
wheels, and wires for veins
pulsing currents towards the mad mass of crowds.

I don’t want to miss any of it.
The gears the trucks the squeals
in my ears.

The people on the street
the music and the beats
the cars and the jeeps
the honks and the beeps
the planes, the cranes, the elevated trains
the old man in the subway behaving insane.

The pace. The race
the lack of personal space.
The culture and the humanity
all up in my face.

The rhythm of the city as it moves above me.
The rhythm of the city as it moves beneath me.
The rhythm of the city as it moves around me
The rhythm of the city as it moves within me.

~Edward Austin Robertson

Tags: ,

← Older Entries
Newer Entries →