The Perfect hike
erased all the bad thoughts
beneath the sunshine
amidst the Doug Firs
the roar of the Umpqua below.
Thanked the heavens
said hullo to my old self.
~Edward Austin Robertson
The Perfect hike
erased all the bad thoughts
beneath the sunshine
amidst the Doug Firs
the roar of the Umpqua below.
Thanked the heavens
said hullo to my old self.
~Edward Austin Robertson
She wasn’t the nicest
nor was she the prettiest
and certainly not the
best girlfriend I ever had.
But she was my favorite
(And not just because she was a champion
in bed–
both for our unmatched frequency
and her desire to take it to the abyss).
She had her moments
but I would dare not call her sweet.
We constantly fought
but she could still send me to laughter
with her mean and clever digs.
We were a joke
unhealthy together
but she grew on me easier than the others
I could sympathize with her plight
and could go from wanting to shake her in one minute
to……………….
too much time wasted arguing
she had to be right all the time
I was too self righteous.
We chafed easily
with words that couldn’t be taken back.
Too much on our plates
to appreciate
what the other brought to the table.
But despite all her crap
she was easy to love.
To this day she thinks
it was easy to leave
that it wasn’t something I had to do
to survive–
It just didn’t make sense on paper.
I’d hoped a break would give us a chance to mend
that time could bring forth some cohesion
while certain issues flushed themselves out
but there were events in motion that
could not be reversed.
Even 2 years later,
I catch myself wondering
why I didn’t just swallow my pride
and take her back
in the face of my own ideals and standards,
for what is freedom without compromise
when the possibilities are no longer wide open?
I’m much happier today
but its never easy to think about,
and she may always believe otherwise
but I miss her the most out of any of them.
~Edward Austin Robertson
Above the highest of the high rises
overlooking the harbor
they twirled
they danced
and he held her as close
as he could–without committing any major violations.
He reveled in his dapper threads
their formal wear adding to the decadent festivities.
Feeling light and charming,
smiling
making merry,
they spun
and spun again
boogied
and let the celebration
carry itself to this point.
Need not go anywhere
beyond this innocent crush
no questions needed to be asked
no lies needed to be told
on this evening.
He had dreamt this moment
years before and wouldn’t
remember that until the next day on the plane
half groggy–still drunk
reeking of booze and smokes,
the dream of the elevation, candles, and glass windows
drinking scotch with the old man
overlooking the city
in similar attire
in a similar state of mind.
Dreamily dancing,
nowhere near that altered reality
a dream he had
years (months?) before
but wouldn’t remember til
he was tired enough to recall
that they were in a dream
and didn’t know it
for the dream
had merged with reality
and sometimes
reality could get weirder
than the unpredictable
subconscious.
Shooting for the stars
sometimes
left one spitting out stardust
and choking on moonbeams.
So he looked
he touched
but did nothing to
later feel ashamed of,
simply let himself
evaporate into the free and jovial light
Spinning
twirling
and turning
high above the Manhattan skyline
overlooking the harbor
with the band in their ears.
He moved in closer
and let her cheek feel his
to let her know that he was there.
~Edward Austin Robertson
Its easy to forget
that it ALWAYS
starts out good
feeling fresh
lots of laughter to go around for the both of you.
Every new moment
a magical spark
every touch
new area of the body explored
a minor victory,
merely a precursor
in hope that
you don’t end up hating each other
as a result,
fighting back the urge
to choke the other person (if there were no legal consequences)
to throw a brick through their car windshield
an ending
so inconvenient and unpleasant;
as if there was never a reason to like that person
you once shared a bed with
bared your souls
cut your farts
heard their snores
shared your secrets
let loose desires
and made silent wishes.
it never ends the way its supposed to
or does it?
(Isn’t there a point where one doesn’t need anymore eggs?)
One never goes into a relationship thinking
it will be a waste of time and energy
that a lesson is unnecessary to take
into the next trip with someone
who is (not altogether) different,
that they will encounter a dread of
running into that no so special anymore
someone.
A fruitless endeavor indeed
if friendship or friendliness
or courtesy is no longer
in the picture.
What is to be gained?
One only can hope that
the next time there will be less mistakes
that one will feel more secure,
express thoughts more freely
less harshly
leave with less regrets than the previous trip
see more things to care about
less things to critique
and say nothing to that can’t be taken back.
To realize that you must learn to laugh at your insecurities
and learn to recognize the taste of swallowing jealousy
and laughing at it as well
to not resent that person
because that person is only
a reflection of you
a mirror image of your subconscious
no shrugging of the shoulders
to struggle to remember
(and forget) why it didn’t work out
and move on with newer (less painful) memories
parties agree to disagree
imbalance can lead to
confusion and conflict
wounds tender and raw
loathing and the loss of respect.
(Its no fun no matter which side of the fence you land)
Avoid the urge to dress it up
for fear of seeming too carnal
Avoid the primal urge
to deflect
to lay blame
to denounce
and just accept
that
once upon a time
that moment was shared
before the ugliness
before the deal breakers and the ugly edicts
when the differences were negligible,
before falling into the camps of the forgotten
or the ones who got away
or the ones who never had a chance.
~Edward Austin Robertson
He wasn’t sure how long he had been staring at the ceiling
before he was taken on his bizarre journey.
The ultimate freakout
from an uncertain reality.
The music turned to wallpaper
epiphanies hidden beneath the meanings of song lyrics
bending with guitar solos
deciphering the purpose
of cleaning carpets
working the valet parking lots
at the race track,
and idiotic decisions
resulting in solitude.
Mr. Miniver Cheevy.
So full of shit
so transparent to himself
the truth unavoidable
with no one around to bullshit.
Not he?
Then who?
was he to be
when he returned,
if he returned
from outer space?
Inner space
in a space
that no one could reach him
his isolation
a drug
he needed but did not want.
Perhaps there was no going back,
and why should he?
Who was to benefit from his return
what had he to offer
the world
to himself?
Ready to go
but not ready to be taken
getting too heavy.
Feeling too light,
too good to let go
for if he let go,
no telling where he’d be taken.
Impossible to feel this good and
remain alive.
Floating above it all
as static electricity
seeing from beyond but
unable to express any of it
verbally.
The purples
the lavenders
the light blues
hues
condensed within
a fog,
no hands
no face
no space between
like gases without
solids to fill.
These gentle voices
booming
deep and soothing
from antennae
of a different
frequency
Do
Make
Say
Think
but most of all
DO.
The good times weren’t over
only different.
He didn’t have to be life’s punching bag
if he didn’t want to be.
Stick to his guns
and the path would still be the path
if he chose to leave the path
for out was still in
and the spiral had always been in control.
He wanted to return
to feel naked skin
and freezing rain.
He wanted to return
to clear his family name.
He wanted to return
but he didn’t know how
else to gain control
besides
relinquishing the grips
on the ever maddening madness
he was clinging to.
~Edward Austin Robertson
Keep your voice down
They will hear you.
No one cares if its rigged and predetermined
“We want to be entertained.”
They say,
“Get out of here with that nonsense.”
“You think too much.”
“You need to chill”
Easy to do on those cool Autumn nights
after the pleasant mid day breezes.
Nothing fishy at all about that night in L.A. many years ago
or the Patriots’ improbable run just months after that
emotionally charged national tragedy.
Tagliabue, Selig and Stern couldn’t be anything like Vince McMahon
and his World Wide Federation of Entertainment.
It’s merely sheer coincidence and speculation
and one rogue official.
Not sure when the line was crossed but I’m here now
nothing makes sense but anything is in my realm of possibility.
The paranoid and the crazy seem less so
and the normal people seem looney tunes
Nice to finally meet ya Mr. Jones, Mr. Bell, Mr. Noorey
Who am I to believe at this point?
My philosophy is I have no philosophy
I only know that the
Vikings have arrived in disguised
and we laid down our guard
without much of a fight
they didn’t need to use force
we volunteered to burn our
national treasures
willingly removed our monuments
and replaced them with new memorials
lest we never forget
to remember what happened before.
Where does the difference lie between businessman
and bum,
extinction and submission,
civilization and sterilization?
What else can we merge
sublimate
assimilate
eating our host
nothing left to conquer but ourselves.
Pure Fiction
washed
tidied and neatly bundled.
They made the lie comfortable
and it got got good ratings.
A pyramid scheme
Annuit Coepts
Novs Ordus Seclorum
All in the game.
That we can’t refuse to play
because we apart of the game
the most invaluable piece.
For we are the sheep
we are the lemmings
we are the hamsters
we are the ostrich
We are the hypocrites
without us there’d be no point in playing.
“Keep ’em laughing
Keep ’em dancing
Keep ’em drinking
keep ’em dying
But don’t let them think
For that is what you pay us to do”
If my behavior seems erratic
or bizarre
then you must ask yourself
“What is normal
and what is it about normal
that makes this man so uncomfortable?”
We are sitting at the table
and we eat
and we drink
and we make merry
but eventually
one of us
or all of us
has to pay this massive bill.
~Edward Austin Robertson
I must have been really down to do something like that to myself
I must have been so numb to initiate something so self destructive
like a cutter, hurting themselves to see if they were still capable of feeling.
The most sour, vindictive, superficial, petty piece of pussy
I ever put my dick into.
Her Tammy
My Chinaski.
Why the fuck would I do this to myself?
Why would I think I deserved this?
Someone who cared more for furry animals
her vinyl collection
tattoos, and fashion
than genuine communication.
She could take the dick
but not the criticism
a gal that much in denial is dangerous
how could she be honest with me
when she was constantly lying to her own self?
Walked right into a buzz saw because
I was feeling too sorry for myself
to pay attention.
Oops. My bad.
No matter.
Wont happen again.
But if it were to happen again
it will definitely
be full sass
no holding back
full tilt
all barrels locked
loaded
and firing.
And hopefully it would involve some
freshly sliced mangoes.
It would be the most indulgent thing
I ever done in my life.
~Edward Austin Robertson
I could have run,
probably should have than
engaged in a game I couldn’t win.
I knew what was on the other side of that door
waiting for me,
a match with a “win at all costs” opponent
that could result in failure, heartbreak and
take me to the edges of insanity.
But I also knew there was an opportunity for me
to learn just how well I could perform under duress,
a litmus test for mental toughness–
a measuring stick for growth.
Call it foolishness
call it hubris
you could even call it boredom.
But I can walk away
knowing that I left it all on the field
that I performed as well as I was capable of
and surpassed all my own expectations.
I fought valiantly
I fought fair
no low blows or elbows to the face.
I fought with honor for the game
and respect for my opponent.
Despite what the scoreboard reads
despite what history will say,
I still feel like a winner.
~Edward Austin Robertson
Her absence left me feeling pretty afflicted
remnants of her about my room–
the hair pins in random spots
on the carpet
behind me mattress.
I can wash my sheets a thousand times
but won’t be able to get her fragrance
out of my nostrils.
An attraction so magnetically primitive
that I became addicted to the way she felt on my skin,
left me with trembling hands like a junkie
stung by something so beautiful,
but so painful to touch,
much like that unfinished jellyfish painting,
another reminder of interrupted potential
alongside the bottle of unopened massage lotion.
Suddenly missing the days when she found me so intriguing
and I actually respected liked her as a person.
I knew she was Fool’s Gold the minute I laid eyes on her.
It seems so avoidable, but somehow
I sleepwalked into the biggest mistake of my life.
Left with possibly the most important lesson of my life
wondering if I even made a dent
somewhere in her psyche
because she certainly left a mark on mine.
~Edward Austin Robertson~