Bill Robertson

2009-05-04T07:14:00.000-07:00

SPRINGTIME IN SANDWICH, ILLINOIS

The harm less
hose
spews thread that’s stale
and lacks the spider’s webbing.

I can not do this any more.

The preacher
preens.
His flaccid tongue is hiding
in his textured tone.

We all must fail the fi nal hour.

The clos ed
blind
blocks the light that should
be consequential.

I am grown old too fast once more.

And where
is
the question that
begins the ending?

Tied up in the cloth of my desire?

Turned purple by the stain of your love?

And what is God but this?
Hello.
Goodbye.
Hello.

2009-04-03T08:31:00.000-07:00

it's a chilly morning here, but at least the sum is out. kind of a silly statement since the sun is always out; we just can't see it directly sometimes. I'm feeling lazy. so far I've just been lying back in the recliner listening to cds. in about an hour-and-a-half I'm going to have to go to have lunch with faith up at the school. I'll buy food from johnnie k's. then i'll park in front of the school and she'll come out and we'll eat in the car. nothing at all planned for this afternoon. tonight I go to the friday night celebrate recovery meeting. mixed feelings there.

I'm not feeling very creative today...guess I'll go.

2009-04-02T07:07:00.000-07:00

i've decided to go back to journaling.

i'm thinking of putting together another poetry manuscript. i've been reading over some of my poetry that wasn't included in ordinary things and i think i can whip it into shape without too much editing. i'd at least have a good sized chapbook.

it's quiet this morning. faith is still asleep and skippy is curled up on the love seat. the blinds are still closed so there's not that much light coming in. i wish i had plans for today. all my days are filled with sameness. it's a pleasant sameness, but it's a sameness nonetheless. but i'll take this dull sameness over th excitement of my acting out days every time.

i've got a fresh cup of coffee. i think i'll go stretch out in the recliner till faith gets up.

2008-10-17T07:45:00.000-07:00

clutching the small containers tightly
and mumbling 'better safe than sorry'
I paint myself into this foggy corner
I can't write my way out of
I am swaddled in cuddly comfort
as I go through my fuzzy days
tiny pink white and yellow pieces of confidence
buoy me up
but muffle my emotions
still
I am safe
maybe it's worth it

2008-06-27T18:07:00.000-07:00

I had a dream about my father last night
I saw him getting irritated
and watched his blossoming temper

I recognized myself
I can be set off by the simplest things

like a question
or a tone of voice.
I know there’s no call for it

I loved my father
but I was also afraid of his anger
I don’t want people to be afraid of me

especially the woman I love

I am not my father
in so many ways
but I still channel him

I will talk to Annie about this
I want to change

2008-05-16T08:35:00.000-07:00

stretched out between my thigh and the arm of the chair
nose buried beneath my knee
he sleeps
while I just sit and watch him
my life is so boring
the sun rises
the sun sets
and I have nothing to show for it
but this
the promise in this spring breeze
and your love

2008-05-05T10:06:00.000-07:00

SKIPPY TOO

barely longer than my lap is wide
legs that are long enough to keep his belly off the floor
long black hair all over his body

with splashes of brown on his feet and tail
a muzzle that is black and brown
and a small brown eyebrow over each eye

I feel his body heat against my fore arm and upper thigh
as I sit stretched out on the recliner by the window
my face not six inches from his

I watch his nose twitching as he reads a book on the morning air
a book I can’t even find
he watches traffic passing by

his head turning this way and that with every new distraction
finally he becomes bored and lays his head against my shoulder to sleepand once again serenity is within my clumsy reach

2008-05-02T07:25:00.000-07:00

SPRING STORM

the distant voice of the darkening sky clears it’s throat
and the birds pause in their singing
the smell of rain hangs heavy on the air
the morning breeze carries it through partially opened windows
and then the quick sound of the first falling drops
gentle at first and then more insistent
now it comes
but then quickly passes
when suddenly a rogue flash and crackle of sound
breaks the quieting wet
and then that fear that seems to follow
what will these days be like
I have not saved for their eventuality
and now she must suffer for it
except for that I shall not mind it
and now the once more gentle sounds
signal the passing of danger
and I sit in the coziness of our dry apartment
having passed through it safely once more
in the distance a heavy freight train whines its complaint
down its lonely track to some far off destination

2008-04-28T06:13:00.000-07:00

SHORT PANTS

every time I am surprised
by the quick smell of
newly mown grass

or the flash of the mid-morning
sun against my face in
the cool spring air

I am at once yanked back
to days when I ran without
purpose across the lawns of

freedom or climbed the
fence beside the road
to get to the trees or just lay

on my back in the fresh
green and loved
and loved

every time

2008-04-24T09:58:00.000-07:00

APRIL 24TH

we are the lucky ones
who have made it through the days of trial
and discontent to celebrate this marriage
as it should be celebrated
in the sweet, quiet murmurings and touchings
that mean so much
and make us a monument to overcoming

42 years have lined our lives
with happiness joy and sorrow
as we struggled against each other
to find a peaceful happy place
where we could both survive

together we have combined our separate ways
and joined our fears of yesterday
and tomorrow

today
we love each other
and
for me
that is more than enough

2008-04-18T06:05:00.000-07:00

OUTSIDE ONE MORNING

a pair of grackles on the lawn becomes three
foraging they strut and bob
intention focused solely on need
and survival

while I sit focused only on the writing of
this poem in my mind
giving no immediate thought to basic needs
and I

I can't maintain anything like their level of concentration
and I can't even rise on the morning breeze
and float to the nearby treetops
frustrated I give up and go inside to try to finish

2008-04-17T08:57:00.000-07:00

A BRIEF DIALOG WITH MY MOTHER

“you had a problem with that library when you first moved there”
“yes but I got over it”
“it’s better when you can let go of things like that’
“I know”
“things are fine here – no big news I’m afraid”
“well things aren’t much more exciting here”
“if neither of us has any news I guess we can say goodbye”
“okay you go eat breakfast”
“I will thanks for calling you’re a good son”
“and you’re a good mother I love you”
“not always as good as I should’ve been”
“oh you were good enough I love you goodbye”
“and I love you bye”
and outside my window
the birds keep up their chittering and excited chirruping
trying to drag the sun again over the edge of the morning

2008-04-16T09:11:00.000-07:00

the wind today
reminds me
that I am going forward
(relatively speaking)
while spinning
circling
rushing
through space
at speeds I can't
even imagine
how important
can where I wind up
be

2008-04-15T10:55:00.001-07:00

there is not much activity going on
outside my window

just a slow breeze through the
trees and grass

a very occasional car
floats by

no dog walkers or other
pedestrians

I am left to my random thoughts
day dreams

one hand vacantly stroking
skippy's shoulder

I am barely aware of the breeze coming
through the open window

life is good
life is good

2008-04-08T09:24:00.000-07:00

STAYING ON TRACK

Many years ago I began a program of spiritual recovery
My life had not been exemplary
I was frequently inappropriate and wrong headed
for example
I used to believe it was okay to occasionally leave a store without paying for something
to celebrate the path I was now on
I began to wear a cross around my neck
not to be exclusionary
but to show my great love for Jesus
one day
a couple of years into my program
over a lunch hour I went to a computer store with two friends
when we first walked in I saw a sign taped to the wall
it said
“warning – shoplifters will be prosecuted”
I felt an old spark flare up inside me and I thought
“not if you don’t catch me”
while my friends went off after some supplies
I walked over to the book section
soon I found a book that I dearly wanted to have
it was too bulky though to sneak out of the store
inside the back cover I found a companion cd and I thought
“I can at least get this”
I was starting to palm the disk when suddenly
a young boy of 15 or 16 came around the corner
frustrated
I knew I had to wait until he passed
as he approached me
he smiled and said
“gee – I like your cross”
I thanked him
I put the book back
and walked off to find my friends

TEMPERANCE

I used to think that whenever I didn’t feel full
I was hungry

I used to occasionally drink to excess
today I rarely drink

I used to smoke two packs a day
I gave it up years ago

I used to spend too much time in lustfull phantasies
now I practice staying in the moment

I guess that writing poetry is the only vice I have left

2008-04-07T06:19:00.000-07:00

CANADIAN GEESE

a great flock of them stands by the pond
spilling out onto the side of the road
a few scouts slowly begin to make their way across the road

I brake to let them cross
they have been here for three days now
what is it I wonder

that causes them to stop here for so long
is it somehow predetermined
or do they spontaneously decide to stop flying and land

and what is it I wonder
that causes me to pause in my journeying south then north again
that tells me where to stop and for how long

or does nothing tell me
and I decide strictly on my own
spontaneously without any predetermination at all

now those few have passed
and I continue on my way
wondering if I shall see them tomorrow

SKIPPY

draped across my lap
head down on one side
tail down on the other
he sleeps
and I
leg rest up
legs extended
place both hands on his warm body
meanwhile
my mind busily scurries from one thought to the next
saying
“surely there is something more important I should be doing”
then my heart asks
“what
right now what could be more important than this”
and my thoughts slow
and I relax in the moment
and slowly breathe in and out
in and out

2008-04-04T08:18:00.000-07:00

CONFLUENCE

hope is like the first robin of the year
come dragging another spring behind it
generations of leaves have fallen on this ground
but the same tree still stands
I wake each morning to find you asleep by my side
and hope we still have many seasons left between us
it has been so long since I have not known you
if you leave first
I shall know you till I die
if it is I who goes
I will never know the end of your story
and that will be the saddest thing about my dying
maybe we'll be lucky

2008-04-03T14:24:00.000-07:00

IT’S BEEN A WHILE

it’s been a while
my senses have been dulled by my medications
more and more it seems
as I go along
I am a little more remote each day
I’m not sure where this is all leading
but I haven’t written much
moved by the Mary Oliver reading last night
I went out at 6:30 this morning
specifically to see the sun rise
but once I was outside
I realized that my view was blocked by the houses across the way
I know that we are part of the natural world
but we do so many things to cushion ourselves from the rest of it
we block views
we clear forests
we build things
and we pave the world
there is so much smoke and toxic waste
are landfills our destiny
it grew light
and I went back inside to write

2008-04-03T06:06:00.000-07:00

THE COYOTE

I saw him hobbling across the open field behind two buildings
a policeman stood behind
a fair distance from away
his rifle in hand
the very rifle I assumed
that had taken away the use of his right rear leg
the policeman aimed for another shot
fired and missed
if he could just make it to the corn field two blocks away
he would probably be safe
the policeman got into his car and took off
no doubt
to go around the block toward the other side of the field
I prayed that he would be too late
watched the coyote struggling on
and realized
that each of us is pursued
not by a policeman with a rifle
but by relentless time
we all know that it will catch us
maybe now before we reach the cornfield
maybe later as we hobble on
struggling toward possible oblivion or possible immortality
the only sure knowledge we have
is that the door will open and that we will have to go through it
the coyote disappeared behind one of the buildings
and I drove on toward home

2008-03-18T09:40:00.000-07:00

INSPIRATION

sometimes inspiration strikes me
when in bed then things get worse
I will spring up grab a pen
and quickly go from bed to verse

2008-03-16T12:01:00.000-07:00

OUR WAR

I cannot bring myself to mad
and so protest in only words
how we’ve got it mainly backwards
beating plowshares into swords

2008-03-14T17:29:00.000-07:00

DEATH

is that final darkness not even darkness
or is it maybe the womb of a new birth
'when I was a grownup I used to have a motorcycle'
says my 4-year old grandson

2008-03-07T05:56:00.000-08:00

a cold wind pushes patches of march by the window
while
cocooned and warm
I sit here inside at my keyboard
struggling with nouns and verbs
trying to put myself in this reality
or at least
one of my own choosing
I get up and turn off the lights

2008-02-29T08:24:00.000-08:00

ON POETRY

is it wrong to call a stone
a stone and fire fire
I hold myself to words alone
and seek desire in desire

I do not hide my thoughts in clouds
nor practice magic in my mind
but I speak them all out loud
my meanings are not hard to find

and can an honest wordsmith play
in this garden so obtuse
I try and try as try I may
to put my words to simple use

so leaving not offense behind
I ask read my poems and know my mind

2008-02-28T05:57:00.000-08:00

new snow covers old grass
where did I go

a tree bare and bold
blue sky shines

black drops fall with no sound
winter’s melt

dog shit in the snow
too cold to smell

192,000 miles
rust and streaked dirt

shadows stand still silently
wind blows snow

spider plant sags in cream and green
forgot to take books back

new light fresh day
I am older still

sleeping dog lies near
I type stale words

cold bird’s crisp chirp
plowed streets are bare

Nefertiti’s black bust
books stacked unread

stuffed lamb stands by the rocker
water spots on the wood floor

cds stacked on the speaker
no sound

camera phone points up
re-charges

heart in heart on folded card
no message inside

yearning anxiously
phone does not ring