Tag Archives: poetry

New Collection of Poetry On the Way

29 Dec

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My newest book , “Poems About Lawrence” will be available to purchase in a couple of weeks. You will  be able to buy it on Amazon, Barnes and Noble and Ingram, among other places. I will keep you posted. Until then, have a happy new year and enjoy this playlist that I made while editing the book.

Abrazos,

~Edward Austin Robertson

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Labor Day Weekend in New Orleans

1 Dec

Cigarette in hand,

drunk on brown liquor, and

exhaling into the slow swampy night.

I found myself finally at ease with the rhythm of the city,

as a wave of understanding washed over me.

I needed more Tom Waits in my music catalog.

 

 

~Edward Austin Robertson

 

 

B-Side from Upcoming Collection

22 Nov

A Serious Situation (Life is)

 

One could win baseball games

trophies, awards and championships.

One can even win the money game

but no one has ever beaten death.

 

It was a losing battle

one coming in the form of a

grizzly bear

shark attack

house fire

home invasion

cycling accident

plane crash

heart attack

broken neck from slipping in the bathtub,

a peanut allergy

a mugging

innocent bystander in a bank robbery

choking on his own vomit

suffocating from his own fart

and being eaten alive by house cats

or swallowing a whole octopus.

 

Seemed pointless to worry about it.

If he was going to fully embrace life

then he’d have to fully embrace dying inevitably.

 

Drinking fresh snow water

melted from the mountain

reinforced everything pleasant

he’d ever experienced in life:

the musical epiphanies

the road trips, birthdays and sporting events

all paled to the natural phenomena

he’d been lucky enough to witness.

He’d seen shooting stars that were so vivid

that their trails trailed off into the Milky Way’s band.

 

 

He could still hear the stream nearby rushing past their campsite.

Alone in his tent

his head on a makeshift pillow,

he fell asleep listening to the dying roar and crackle of the

wood in the campfire.

It was quite possible that his life

couldn’t get better than the one he was already living.

 

 

~Edward Austin Robertson

 

 

 

 

I See the Body Electric!!!

7 Nov

Deep breaths are taken,

feels me up with her current

with no need for touch.

 

~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)

I.

 

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
         again,

just once more.

Who am I?

 

II.

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

chaotic.

I’m crazy because

the world is.

Normal doesn’t exist.

Confusing yes,

but also very reassuring.

 

III.

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.

 

IV.  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?

 

VI.     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

contraposatives

and contraries,

the biggest

infraction

were the questionable

answers

he’d accepted

like a

pig before a trough

of slop.

It poured out

his skull

like wet

rainy

motor oil

on

a cracked sidewalk.

Of all the entities

in the universe

how could

there ever be one

question

or one

answer

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.

 

Humiliation.

Denigration

frustration

manipulation

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.

Drained

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