Tag Archives: Edward Austin Robertson

Power Couple

20 Oct

Spent the sunny afternoon driving around town

looking for a birthday present

for her.

Struggling to curb my enthusiasm.


Looking at what was ahead of me

the period of time that all my favorite poets wrote about

The phase of life where stimulation, excitement and thrills

segue into stability, focus, and domestication


This was probably the happiest time period of my life

but I wasn’t going to admit that to her

or to myself.

Because it was when you let your guard down

that life hit you the hardest

I wasn’t going to get carried away.


If my cumulative experiences have taught me anything,

it was that you never knew what was waiting around for you

around the corner.


I wasn’t going to get caught slipping,

running around town

smiling like shit was sweet.


But I was happy enough.

She asked me to grade our relationship

I said “right now, a 90 percent. Because we still have room to grow.”


She feigned an appalled look,

as if things were perfect,

or that they could ever be.


I knew plenty of couples who would be happy with an 85 average.

I felt like we were the fortunate ones.

We were in a situation of our own choosing

And still free to pursue lots of dreams together

–albeit with very little time to waste.

Not only was 90 a passing grade

But it is considered an A in most of academia

Under the circumstances, a 90 percent was pretty damn phenomenal.

I knew plenty of couples who’d never even hit 90 percent in one day.

~Edward Austin Robertson



B Sides from 2012

9 Sep

Boy Genius


My family (mistakenly) thought I was a genius

because I taught myself to read at the age of four.

I could do my ABC’s in reverse

and knew many of the old testament verses by heart.

My parents convinced me that I was special

and inadvertently did me a disservice.


I wasn’t prepared for encountering the real geniuses

who would outwork me in high school and college.

It took many years to get past the complex I’d developed

believing I was better than everyone, including my parents.

Eventually I’d learn how little I actually knew.

Possibly the first real mark of intelligence that I’ve exhibited.



~Edward Austin Robertson

B Side from 2004 (again)

9 Sep

Purgatory (In six parts)



Were we all born with amnesia?

Trying to recover our

thoughts and our lives,

the meaning behind

the things we do and say,

as we relearn our pasts?

I’m trying to relocate who I was

and who I’ll be.

Seems like we’ve done this

so many times before

and still I keep forgetting.

Please remind me

just once more.

Who am I?



Lost in the vortex of the universe

I can’t help but feel

a sense of vertigo.

There aren’t any landmarks to help me

no breadcrumbs to lead me back home.

Trapped in my neurosis

I see the stranger.

“Who are you?”

I ask.

“Who are YOU?”

He replies.

“Where am I?”


“Where are WE?”

He replies.


“I don’t know.”


“We don’t know”

He says.

Slowly it makes sense

to me that in the

chaos of the world

my life can’t help but be


I’m crazy because

the world is.

Normal doesn’t exist.

Confusing yes,

but also very reassuring.



It was dark.

Lying on my back

I noticed it.

The light dancing atop the water

reflected onto my ceiling.

Twisting, turning, and rotating

giving and receiving

emptying and filling

with no void being left.

Everything came out equal.

I thought about light and time,

sound and vision.

I wondered if energy was its own creator,

moving out and in

creating a push pull effect?

Were we way off?

Thinking too deeply,

placing a limitation

on the essence of “God?”

Could we possibly comprehend

something so great ?

It seemed easier to worship the tiny

and the minute.

What of that spiraling DNA model?

That twisting of light,

color, molecules and atoms–

the building blocks of all objects?

No dichotomy

of the internal and external.

They mirrored each other.

The answer wasn’t out there.

It was in here.

I needed to align myself

and dance with duality.

I had separated myself

when in reality

I was a part of God.

Not apart from God.


  1. Time devours itself

I’m simply matter,

atoms comprised in a big mass

filling up space.

A tiny grain

on a white sandy beach.

All of my experiences

everything I know

registers to

about a speck

of dust compared

to the rest of the universe.

The further I venture out

the more I leave behind.

Faces look the same

melting into oblivion together

walking a path with

only my thoughts to accompany me.

What’s left behind

no longer exists.

What’s ahead

is not quite here.


I may accumulate

more possessions

more acquaintances

and more knowledge

but I’ll never

escape the feeling

of the temporary

as certain death awaits me.

I must face it alone.


V.Beneath the Surface

He made sure to close his closet door at night.

going to bed knowing it would open

as soon as he fell asleep.

His dreams took him to deep dark caverns

full of demons and howling ghouls

that reached for his soul

pulling him under.

He’d wake up frowning

confused and distorted

unaware of whether

he was still asleep and dreaming

or awake to reality.

Or was the reality in his dreams

where his fears,guilt and pain lie,

waiting for him in his subconscious?


  1. Infinity and Beyond


Was God him

and everything in between?

And how could he be nothing

in comparison

to everything else?

The whole was equal to

the sum of the parts

and not to accept

one was not to accept any.

He looked up at the

bright innumerable

stars, with many question

but he already knew.

It was the stench of a lie

told to him

his whole life.

Unanswerable questions

followed by

unquestioned answers.

Of all the contradictions


and contraries,

the biggest


were the questionable


he’d accepted

like a

pig before a trough

of slop.

It poured out

his skull

like wet


motor oil


a cracked sidewalk.

Of all the entities

in the universe

how could

there ever be one


or one


more important

than the others?


~Edward Austin Robertson

B sides from 2004

9 Sep

                                                           Absence of Self


Consider it a bad trip.

To hell and back.

The black hole

that was her soul.






and revelations.

He was lonely because he had lost himself.

Broken tattered and shattered

holding onto an ideal.

He was torn in two

his shredded psyche

his soul

saw the bursting

girls’ lips

where love was a sweet high breeze

holding the night forever.


exhausted all possibilities

tried to curb his expectations

in order

to soften his disappointment.

Melted down.

Lost himself to regain himself.

Created a new narrative

the person he once knew

the person he wanted to know.

The idealist

the dreamer

and the screamer.

The romantic realist.

The Machiavellian hippie.

Not just single now,

but a focused bachelor.

~Edward Austin Robertson





Jackson Heights

18 Aug

Casually diverse.

The streets are always busy,

quietly active.


~Edward Austin Robertson


12 Jun

Jostled awake by a noise.

A splattering of urine

next to my bedside.


~Edward Austin Robertson


12 Jun

Soaked rocks, moist damp greens

sweating abundantly dispersed

in a vacuum cloud.


~Edward Austin Robertson