Been a while eh?

12 Aug

I have had a pretty crazy summer.

It’s been a crazy year, crazy since the day I was born, but more so the last five years of my life.

This crazy run though is coming to a crazy end. We’re coming up on the fifth year and many of my creative projects are coming to fruition. Even who I was five years ago is something to think about………I was so naive back then (like I was any less naive last summer)

Well Crazy ain’t cutting it anymore. Crazy has worked for me the last 31 years but its no longer working and has been working less for me over the last couple of years.

So we’re coming to a new strategy a new angle to attack this animal that we call life. Sometimes you gotta wrestle with the tiger, it won’t nap all day, sometimes the tiger’s gotta run.

In the past month and a half I’ve been seeing a therapist (not SEEING ONE but seeing one). There was a time when I’d have been too proud to seek counseling. I thought I could figure it out on my own.

PHOOEY!!!!! That’s POPPYCOCK!!!!!!!

I should have been seeing a therapist ten years ago when I left for university. Man I needed it badly then too. Who knows where I’d be had I started seeing one then. Honestly I think everyone should see a therapist. It should be part of our health plans, no required by every company that gives benefits to full time employees.

As it is I’ve found the one perfect for me and I’m starting to make some serious connections between my destructive patterns and my early life. Crazy how much those formative years stay with you, even when you don’t realize it.

So the early part of the year was the deconstruction period. The next year and a half will be the reconstruction period (probably longer).

I’ve got a lot to look forward to in the next few months. Got a top secret project I’m working that I can’t reveal for another four months.

I’ll be ministering my first wedding in October.

Looking forward to that Wichita hospitality

and I have got a few poetry readings in the next couple of weeks. One in Wichita, one in Norman, and the other at Laborfest in Oklahoma City.

Also my third collection of poetry is due out soon, and I just finished the manuscript for my fourth book of poems. Its a hefty one, over one hundred poems.

Its been a good year. Emotional as hell. But good. I’ve accomplished a great deal of the goals I set for the year. The wedding will be the culmination, the coup de grace for me.

The time is coming to hunker down and pitch a tent and do some real work. My five year grace period is almost over. The time is coming soon for a 40 hour work week at a nine to five. But not quite yet.

Good talking to you again.

Mick
p.s. I just recently received in the mail, a gift of a digital camera so the first time in a long time I have been taking pictures. It feels great to be able to visually record my crazy adventures again.

Well I'll tell you a secret. I am crazy and if you tell anybody I'll kill you.

Another Chappelle post

12 Aug

Back from Cell Therapy

12 Aug

Hopeful Romantic

Many people think I’m
a hopeless romantic
but if they paid
more attention
they’d see I
was a hopeful romantic.

Romance to me
is more than
sex
or wine and dinner.

please.
I’m poor
and a poet.

I’m a man
of simple pleasures.
I find lots
of things to be romantic.

Ice cream
baths
hiking
naps
new pairs of socks on the feet
breaking
into public pools
and skinny dipping.

Picking mushrooms
in cow pastures
baking muffins
pot brownies
sitting
on the porch
listening to tunes
ON WEED!!!!!

Watching meteor
showers on the rooftop.
Driving alone
in the rain
listening to “Riders on the Storm”

A hopeless romantic
is someone happily resigned
to never finding love.
Someone who couldn’t
recognize love if it hit them in
the face with its genitals.

A hopeful romantic
is someone who
realizes the possibilities
in every waking moment.
Someone who knows
that today just might be their day.

There’s a big difference
between the two.
Don’t you think?

~Edward Austin Robertson~

Progress

13 Jun

NBA Finals, World Cup, just turned in my manuscript for most recent book, more projects to finish, trips to plan……its gonna be a crazy busy beautiful summer……
this guy keeps me motivated to see it all through

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Thoughts on John Wooden

6 Jun

The famous Pyramid of Success

Here was a man who never outlived his usefulness. A man who touched so many throughout his life. Reading about him, his teaching methods, and his success as a teacher, coach, mentor, and a man inspires me to get so much more out of myself.

He emphasized playing the right way, giving your best effort no matter the outcome, and living a just and fulfilling life.

Whether I live to be 99, or 49. I’d like to be remembered at least by one person as fondly as everyone who crossed paths with Coach Wooden, remembers him. Sometimes you encounter a piece of literature, music, a film, or a person, and the experience causes you to conclude that you must live your life differently.

John Wooden represents a set of values, and ethic that passed on with him. He was of a different era, and his history was apart of our history as a country. Whenever someone from his era dies, we lose a part of our culture, a link to the old world. Fortunately his values will live on no matter what era we are in.

“Be true to yourself, help others, make each day your masterpiece, make friendship a fine art, drink deeply from good books — especially the Bible — build a shelter against a rainy day, give thanks for your blessings and pray for guidance every day.”

Rest in Peace John Wooden.

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Poem For Tulsa

3 Jun

Riot

Wealthy
black
affluent
cultured
businessmen
and families
pushed north
through the
fires.

A tragic tale
of greed
jealousy
and evil.

The part of town
where a ballpark
now stands
bears little
reminder
of past deeds
unpunished

except
current
socio-economic
patterns
where one group
thrives
and the
other just
survives

everyone suffering
as a result.

~Edward Austin Robertson~

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Stop Sucking Dick!!!!

31 May

Seeing this guy perform live at The Punchline changed my life

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Heading to Ithaca with a Heavy Soul

15 May

The dread became more
pronounced
the closer
we got to the bus station.

We couldn’t walk slow enough
or fast enough.

Her left hand holding my
right hand.
My left hand holding
my luggage.
Just like that
Robert Johnson song.

I used humor
as a defense
for my sadness,
cracking jokes
at a breakneck
pace.

Not sure if
I’ve ever been
wittier
or sadder.

I kissed her goodbye
thinking it’d be
a matter
of time ‘til
we met again.

I wonder how different
things would be
if I’d have just canceled
my plans
and stayed a while longer……….

maybe we’d have gotten
it out of our system
perhaps I’d have never come
back.

If only I could
visit a parallel
universe
and find out
without
giving up
the lessons
I learned
from my
decision to leave.

~Edward Austin Robertson~

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God Bless You Dr. Fleming

15 May

I was minding my own business
watching the Patriots-Colts game.
(Rooting against the Colts)
when she chatted me up.
She looked at me fiercely
told me she was a squirter
and a Scorpio,
48 years old.

She looked like
a poor man’s Shirley
Maclaine.

I told her I had to
be at work in less
than an hour.

But the Pats were up
by 17 with less
than 8 minutes to go,
so I called work and
said I’d be fifteen minutes late.

I instructed her to
pay her tab
and meet me
in the parking lot.

We went back to her
place and
I gave her
the Bobby Mickey
Special
no onions
extra mayonnaise.

Her pussy squirted
like the fountains
at Royals Stadium.

The next day I saw that
the Colts had come back to
win the game,
something about a 4th and 2
on their on 29.

The Patriots went
for it and sealed
their fate.

3 days later
my urethra was sticking
together.

Coach Belichick wasn’t
the only one
who made
a bad call
on Sunday night.

~Edward Austin Robertson~

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East Bay Fantasy

15 May

Oatmeal in the mornings.
Guacamole for lunch
Chick pea soup for dinner.

Music
sunlight
filtered water
compost bin in the freezer
separate bin for recyclables
good company
relevant conversation
and comfortable silences.

Watching movies
and spilling popcorn in bed.

Occasionally
some really good love making.

Weekend evenings
of board games
at friend’s houses.

Bong hits with ice
flossing before bed,
letting the yellow
mellow.

Going to bed with
a warm heart
and full stomach,
waking up
with a sense
of purpose.

~Edward Austin Robertson~

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