Tag Archives: Edward Austin Robertson

CD Warehouse

11 Nov

“You ever listen to Coltrane?”

 

“No.” replied sheepishly.

I’ve heard of him but never actually listened to him.

This was an embarrassing admission.

Being in college made it seem necessary

to be listening to jazz

and not the smooth stuff that my mom listened to

over the radio

 

This clerk, Brian, had similar tastes as I did.

Chances were that I’d dig whatever he recommended.

 

He handed me a copy of Greensleeves

to take back to the listening station.

As soon I as I put the headphones on and pressed play,

The world outside my brain synced up.

 

The rain fell in a rhythm and the passing automobiles

became its melody.

The people walking by cowering under their umbrellas

became percussion.

Life was finally starting to make sense.

 

~Edward Austin Robertson

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Norman, OK

23 Oct

Something felt off about the whole night;

triggering a reaction within my psyche

lying there on the couch listening

to John Paul Jones play the Mellotron.

 

She only confirmed it–

I was surprised not one bit–

when she admitted to me later

of her mild transgression.

Although initially it felt

like a punch to the gut,

that news was much easier to shake off

than the stuff that came afterward;

which was really threw me for a loop.

 

~Edward Austin Robertson

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ADP

11 Oct

It was basically the worst peep show of all time.

Coming back repeatedly just to see

the same barista–

I was spending all my hard earned cash to catch a glimpse

of some bare wrist, or naked nape, possibly even some upper thigh

in exchange for expensive coffee and mediocre cuisine–

a brief show that ended

almost as soon as I received my change,

my signal to give up my place in line.

 

~Edward Austin Robertson

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For Real or For Play?

11 Oct

Is it possible

that you were just feigning modesty

when you shyly looked away

from my gaze?

 

~Edward Austin Robertson

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Blizzard pt. 2 (For Kilkenny’s)

30 Sep

The streets were all mine.

The only cars on the road were buried.

the crisp night spread out

into a white blanket of peace.

 

Breathing deeply,

walking alone

“On Guyot” playing in my earbuds

craving a mutual smile

a wink, a flirt, a hug,

a warm beverage

or even the mere threat of a kiss.

I had just the place in mind.

 

~Edward Austin Robertson

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Berkshire Wedding (For Nicole)

25 Aug

Walking her back to the old house felt natural.

I knew there was something there

but I couldn’t have imagined it would lead to this.

I calculated the odds

and I made my move

but I didn’t make it that night.

Sometimes inaction

is a form of action.

There was no pressure to do anything.

But something in the way we hugged each other that night

told me that if I ever had the chance,

I was going to go for it–whatever that meant.

I drove back to town in a heightened state of awareness.

dead sober even though I’d been drinking all that day.

I can’t say that I knew anything would happen.

But I’m telling you that I’m not surprised by any of it.

 

~Edward Austin Robertson

 

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It Never Entered My Mind (For Becca)

25 Aug

We never dated

but we were never just friends either.

We could have set better boundaries.

Spending out time casually, eating, laughing, gently comforting,

listening to music and making dinner.

It always started out innocently enough

until we got too comfortable.

Then it became an issue

of how to say goodbye,

whether I should stay over

and if so…………..

It is easy to get wistful.

We had our needs

that neither of us could ultimately fulfill

in the long run, but the short term desires were often met.

If I were to waste my sweetness on anyone at the time

she was the most deserving.

It was easy to be kind to her.

Even then I could sense that it was a trial run

for when the real thing came along.

Had she given me a reason to stay

I probably would have.

But nothing would’ve come of it.

I’d have just hurt her

or she would have hurt me.

Those are pleasant memories.

We had fun together, some of it innocent.

Late night emails from the computer lab

soon became evening phone calls and mix CD’s,

which then became 3 hour drives to “not” spend

the weekend with her– hanging out, making out, doing drugs.

But I don’t miss her.

Just another college romance loaded down

with limitations,

but tempered with realistic expectations.

 

 

~Edward Austin Robertson

 

 

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Cover (for Nancy)

25 Aug

She’s playing fiddle,

singing to me in the car

Neil Young’s “Harvest Moon”.

 

 

~Edward Austin Robertson

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To Be Continued

25 Aug

 

It became one of many nights

where by sheer luck

I’d faceplant into some female’s crotch

simply because I chose to leave my apartment.

 

A night where I was on autopilot; not even thinking,

just doing.

Sipping champagne

eating birthday cake,

expensive chocolates

and listening to Thriller on vinyl.

 

I was too dumb to realize

that I’d been set up.

Her friends magically disappeared from the bar

and she needed someone to walk her back to her place

which conveniently was only blocks away from my own apartment.

 

And perhaps I could’ve been more aggressive

but like other times,

I was just happy to be in the right place

at the right time.

 

Not forcing any shots,

just staying in the flow of the offense.

And maybe instead of lamenting

what didn’t happen (like a few other encounters during that period),

I should be happy about what did take place

and grateful that nothing occurred

that would come back to haunt me years later.

 

I took it as far as one should on a first attempt

and looking back, I’m glad I didn’t press any further.

Only now can I understand the precarious combination of

of youth, booze, hormones and consent.

Which is why I always let the females take the lead

in such instances. Even then I was hyper aware of all the possibilities.

That evening was my first inkling that one could have a hot and kinky

sexual encounter without actually having coitus.

I limped home with a heavy buzz and a heavy sack,

hoping there was more to come.

 

~Edward Austin Robertson

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Feel Around the Fountain (and other romantic misadventures)

20 Jun

I.

 

She was a delicate little thing.

Young and sweet and cute.

With every hello

I sent her an unspoken invitation

to come over to my place for weed and coffee,

and make out on the parlor couch

while listening to the Smiths on the record player.

 

II.

The wind picked up

pushing the fountain mist

into our faces.

I held off as long as I could, but it still

shocked her when I leaned in for the kiss.

She was surprised but she didn’t resist.

She tasted of college life and cigarettes.

 

III.

The perfect spot in the park

with a nice mix of sun and shade

to lay down a blanket

play guitar, eat yummy snacks

and talk myself out of making a move

on her.

The stakes were just too high on this one.

 

 

~Edward Austin Robertson

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