Tag Archives: Edward Austin Robertson

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

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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

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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

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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

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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

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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

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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

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A Fresh Start

22 Jun

Back at Aimee’s diner
he sat on the stool
gnawing on his country breakfast
drinking coffee.

Easy to ask why he didn’t move here to begin with
but that was being shortsighted.
As unfortunate as things were
most of it (all of it?) was his fault.

He needed this to happen
to get the horseshit
knocked out of him by life.

He paid his bill
walked around town–
shivering
trudging through ice
his socks wet and his
feet cold.

All the tea, coffee and warm layers
could not keep him warm enough.
He thought that four seasons
could actually be nice for a change,
and if this was as bad as the weather got,
then he may be able to handle living up here.

This was the next step.
Now was the time to go back and set things in motion.

2013-12-22 21.20.16

~Edward Austin Robertson

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Poem for Little Eli

21 Jun

Family.

The minute you decide to start one
becomes the day you must emotionally prepare for a series of goodbyes.

The first day back to work,
their first day of daycare,
their first day of school,
their first day of sleep away camp,
to when they leave for college
and get married.

Parents to children who become parents to children, who become grandparents to grandchildren.

Meanwhile
we hold onto, validate,
and appreciate the authentic moments that we share–
the laughter, smiles, and tears.

Curiosity leads us to wander
as our tribes spread out,
but love is why we always return.

~Edward Austin Robertson

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East Coast Trippin’ Days 19-20: And it rained all night

13 Jun

2014-06-12 16.30.12

Beautiful Burlington, Vermont has a nice little state university that has 10,000 students enrolled there. I would have liked to have seen more, but its been raining buckets since I have been here. I managed a quick stroll along the waterfront of Lake Champlain early Wednesday morning, but for all the beauty here, I have been stuck indoors.

So what does one do when they are stuck indoors? They go do five minute sets at stand up open mics, and then head to the bro-iest establishment possible (Manhatten’s Pizza–Burlington’s version of The Wheel in Lawrence) and sing badly played acoustic tunes to no one in particular (I was actually relieved that no one was listening–felt free to play whatever I wanted).

The stand up open mic was fun. I forgot how much I used to enjoy going on stage and making people laugh. I hit them with some old ones just to loosen up, then ventured out into some little used jokes that I been wanting to work out for a while. It didn’t feel like four years had passed since the last time I had done it, but believe me, my nerves used to get the best of me on stage when I was younger. Now I don’t give a fuck if I bomb or not, because I really don’t give a fuck about anything anymore. Life is too short. Ask anyone who lives in a country merged in a civil war. The stuff we get hung up on is totally absurd. If there is something you want to say, then say it. If there is something you’ve always dreamed of doing, then do it. If there is something in life that has always frightened you, then kick that fear in the balls. It doesn’t matter if you do it or if you don’t do it. The universe gives zero fucks. 2014-06-11 12.46.35

2014-06-12 14.59.33

I spent the afternoon yesterday in an Irish pub, drinking French-pressed coffee, watching the babes, eating wings, and joking with some locals as the Croatians got hosed in the first World Cup match of the tournament. Burlington has certainly lived up to the hype, and though its pretty expensive for a college town; its still a pretty rad place. It could arguably be the coolest college town on the entire east coast.

2014-06-12 15.42.07

2014-06-12 12.38.08

Time to head back to New York City. When I originally made my itinerary, I had booked a bus to Amherst. But after the way NYC slapped me on my behind, I got’s to go back. This weekend I will be spending Father’s day with one of my best friends,his wife and son, and hopefully we’ll bust out some bubbly to celebrate the Spurs’ fifth NBA championship. Monday morning I have to head to Boston to report for assignment. Vacation is just about over.

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