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    Trying Not To Blink: A Poetry Collection


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    Trying Not To Blink

      A Poetry Collection

      by

      Eric Nixon

      Cover image and design by Eric Nixon.

      © 2013 by Eric Nixon

      ISBN: 9781301466221

      All rights reserved. No part of this book may be copied, reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any process without first obtaining written permission from the author; the exception being a reviewer who may quote brief passages with appropriate credit.

      That being said, I’m pretty flexible with fully credited adaptations. Please contact me if you are considering adapting or remixing any works contained within this book.

      All situations depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination and may not match any reality known to otherwise exist elsewhere.

      Published by Eric Nixon.

      EricNixonAuthor@gmail.com

      EricNixon.net

      Dedication

      This collection is dedicated to my mother, Sharon Jandrow, who is awesomely awesome.

      Thank you! I love and appreciate you.

      Author’s Forward

      Earlier in my life (mostly in the early-to-mid 2000s), I wrote a lot of poetry. I even published a collection of my favorites called Anything but Dreams. In 2005 I found my poetry levels exhausted, and turned my attention to writing novels. Whenever I thought about my poetry, I mentally shrugged and thought, “It was just something I did at one point in my life. It got me through a tough spot, I’m thankful for it, but I’m past that now.”

      In early August of 2011, I received an email from the nice folks at Prairie Home Productions saying that Garrison Keillor wanted to read my poem, “Riding The Red Line,” on his public radio program, The Writer’s Almanac. All they needed was my permission, my social security number, and an address to send a check to.

      I read that email, and re-read it (a few times). My first thought was, “No way. This is a total scam from some scammy scammer trying to get my social security number.” I did some research online and later thought, “Hm. Their story seems to check out.”

      I also realized that the chances a scammy scammer-type person would know the name of a specific poem from my collection, Anything but Dreams was infinitesimally small. That’s when it hit me, “Oh my God, Garrison Keillor wants to read my poem on the radio!” I quickly wrote back and gave them my information and approval to use the poem.

      It aired a few weeks later on my wife’s birthday, which was an extra special treat. Hearing Garrison’s distinctive voice read something I wrote (on public radio with millions of people listening) impacted me greatly forced me to question why I stopped writing poetry so many years before.

      A month or so later, I was at the Emily Dickinson Museum doing research and getting inspiration for my novel, Emily Dickinson, Superhero – Vol. 1. While standing in Emily’s room, I stared at the little corner where she wrote the majority of her poetry and ended up reflecting again on my own. On the way home, I made the decision to start poeting again.

      What you are holding is the summation of my poetic observances for 2012. It includes all 160 poems, presented in the order in which they were written. They cover a little bit of everything from huge happiness to a near-death experience, and everything in-between.

      Thank you for choosing to spend time with my words. I greatly appreciate it.

      Eric

      January, 2013

      Table of Contents

      January

      December 31

      Craving Communication

      From Me To You

      Lottery

      Natural Pointillism

      Trying Not To Blink

      A Word Of Advice

      Exception To The Rule

      Big Beautiful Flakes Falling

      Perpetual March

      February

      Negativity

      It’s Sorted Sometime Later

      Buddy

      Everything Grows

      Followers

      Microscope

      Small Talk

      Literary Inadequacy

      Returning To The Past

      Chained Down

      Too Many Twos

      March

      Slips Like Socks

      A Night Brighter With Snow

      Better In Here Than Out There

      When I Was Younger

      The Edge Of Mean

      Have A Great Day

      Actually, Roman

      Focused

      Mid-Morning On A Sunday

      Killed Him With Kindness

      April

      Thanks To Facebook

      Ranting Old Man

      Spending Time

      Break

      Whimmy

      Assumptions of Belief

      Comments Section

      Members Only

      Released From the Cerebral

      The Dachshund Emerged

      Lack of Permanence

      Subpar

      Hypocriting

      Lazy Tumble

      Shoe-Deep In A Puddle

      May

      Someone Else’s Desk

      Photo From The Future

      Whose Benefit

      Five Years

      940 Saturdays

      Lacquered Dreams

      Words Overheard

      Welcoming

      June

      Ethan Allen Express

      Reel Mower

      Toys On A String

      July

      Night Lights

      The Morning Ritual

      Softer and Prettier

      Caught In The Middle

      Drowned

      Night-Lights

      I’m Sitting A Little Higher In My Seat This Morning

      I Killed Emily Dickinson

      Sunkist Sun

      August

      Shoulder The Stream

      Whoopie Pie

      Toast Ghost

      That Is Enough

      Sleep Please Take

      Wading Through The Nonsense

      Flip The Switch Of Autumn

      The Unkind Of Person

      Defined By The Decade

      Watched A Windy Gust

      September

      Enlightenment

      Cool, Green, And Blue

      Polarized

      Jump In A Lake

      Who We Are

      Pulled Into Infinity

      Doodles And The Everworse

      Our Emotional Selves

      Meaning Beyond The Mundane

      Rural Ballet

      Old Man With A Time Machine

      Throwing Godrays

      Seismograph

      Tail Up With Swagger

      Before Shot

      Schism

      After Dinner Walk

      Saved And Exited

      October

      Glom

      Off The Desk Entirely

      The Bridge In My Wake

      Value Tradeoff

      Haunted Hayride

      Scientists Call It Instinct

      One Letter

      Through The Vent

      The Changing Face Of Friendship

      Seasonal Exposure

      A Pointed Reminder

      Releasing Emily

      What Fear Wrought

      Devolving Culture

      Crinkly Sweep Sweep

      November

      The Wind Raged On

      Letting The Outsider In

      First Night Of Standard Time

      Living Between The Xs

      Factories

      Consumption Is A Hungry Thing

      Notion In Mind

      The Problem

      Disasters Are Wonderful

      Consumer

      There Will Be Duplicates

      The Futuristic S
    ight

      Getting The Word Out

      Reading Someone Else’s Poetry

      Aquatic Intentions

      White Jeep

      The Connection

      Corn Snow

      An Inattentive Oncomer

      The Bulk Of Humanity’s Preoccupations

      Contradictions

      Lazy Flakes

      Content Crazy

      Up Down

      Forget Them Entirely

      A Delayed Present

      December

      Center Illumination

      Don A Softer Pant

      A Branch Apart

      Momentum

      Certain Keys Are Cleaner

      Keeps Us In

      Post Office Parking Lot

      Beauty

      Spaces

      Trying To Type Quickly, Quietly

      Peaking In The Distance

      All You Have Is Now

      First On The Scene

      That Same Song Finds Me

      The Poet King Of Amherst

      So Essential

      Let Down By Something, By Nothing

      Revive My Interest

      The Smell Of Tradition

      One Side Knows

      Dead-Ends And Other Places

      Light Fluff

      Swirly Blur

      Re-Living The Moment

      Ending It

      JANUARY

      December 31

      Today is

      The last, final, day

      Nothing left to do

      Nowhere else to go

      For the year ends here

      Starting tomorrow

      2011 will seem old and dated

      But when I think of tomorrow

      January is

      Open, white, and wide

      Like a winter’s field

      Spreading beyond the hills of February

      Into the warmer days beyond

      This year’s calendar is used up

      Dark and ending

      If I look, think, back

      It’s brighter behind

      But I never look that way

      Only down at the square

      I’m standing on today

      And the sidewalk-like cubes

      Spreading ahead of me

      In the bright light

      Of all of the tomorrows

      Making up my future

      January 1, 2012

      Benson, Vermont

      Craving Communication

      I check and refresh

      My thumbs hovering

      Ready to strike

      The spinny stops

      The thumbs relax

      I have nothing

      No emails

      No texts

      No tweets

      No likes

      Nothing.

      I’m at work and bored

      Craving communication

      Social media’s the placenta

      With the Wi-Fi umbilical

      And I’m starving by the minute

      Minutes pass

      The screen dims

      A finger flicks out

      And refreshes again

      Maybe there’s something now…

      January 3, 2012

      Northampton, Massachusetts

      From Me To You

      At first I thought

      All poetry had to

      Conform to

      A certain length

      A certain rhyme

      A certain scheme

      A certain style

      But now I know

      That’s not true

      Sometimes it’s just

      A free-flow of ideas

      From me to you

      January 3, 2012

      Northampton, Massachusetts

      Lottery

      The right place

      At the right time

      One hundred million for me

      The wrong place

      The right time

      One hundred million

      For someone else

      I look at the results and frown

      In my heart I know I’m the true winner

      I watch as they walk away,

      The winner with the crown

      Maybe soon

      I’ll finally know

      What it’s like

      To stand upon that stage

      January 3, 2012

      Northampton, Massachusetts

      Natural Pointillism

      Opposite of ink

      The white dots fall

      And dot the ground

      Invisible at first

      Give it time and watch

      Dots join dots

      And begin to build

      What started as

      Natural pointillism

      Dots on a brown canvas

      Has lovingly layered

      As the clouds tries their best

      To cover the ugliness

      We’ve strewn carelessly

      Across the land

      January 12, 2012

      Northampton, Massachusetts

      Watching the first snowfall of 2012 as it covers up the crap out my window at work.

      Trying Not To Blink

      The last twenty years have zipped by

      Quicker than the blink of an eye

      When I think of how fast it’s gone

      And how much more I want to get done

      I’ve made up my mind

      I’m trying not to blink

      In an effort to grab ahold of the seconds

      In an experiment that won’t succeed

      Locked in a staring contest with time

      Time’s got all the time it needs

      January 12, 2012

      Northampton, Massachusetts

      Thinking about how time slips by quicker than anything else I can think of.

      A Word of Advice

      The once hardy

      And plentiful

      New Englander

      Has been replaced

      By a thin-skinned sort

      Who complains about the weather

      A half-inch of snow falls down

      My social media feeds fill up

      With the angry rants

      Critical complaints

      And those who bemoan

      The terrible conditions

      They are forced to endure

      No matter the weather

      They’re out en mass

      Letting you know they’re

      Unhappy, miserable, and suffering

      As for me, I appreciate the variation

      That each day brings

      To the constant complainers

      I offer this single word of advice:

      Move.

      January 12, 2012

      Northampton, Massachusetts

      It seems like every single time it snows, rains, is sunny, chilly, windy, pleasant, or whatever, someone on Facebook or Twitter is complaining about the weather.

      Exception To The Rule

      It seems today

      No mater what the reason

      No matter the situation

      Each and every person

      Is an exception

      It’s like they think

      “Hours, rules, policies –

      None of that applies to me!”

      Decades of selfishness

      And self-entitlement

      Have left a stain

      That will take

      Generations to wash away

      January 12, 2012

      Northampton, Massachusetts

      It doesn’t matter if my window at work is closed, people still pound on it, half an hour after closing time, demanding service. It’s merely annoying now, but it was nearly unbearable when I used to be a hotel manager. For most people it’s like, no rule applies to anyone, ever.

      Big Beautiful Flakes Falling

      At my office window

      Standing, staring, wanting

      To be out there among the

      Big beautiful flakes falling

      Face up, feeling the gentle sting

      Of the snow as the complexly-shaped

      Ice crystals hit
    my skin and melt

      Arms outstretched, watching the

      Buildup of snow extend along the length

      The phone rings and returns my mind inside

      Reluctantly, I turn my back on nature

      Calling to me from out there

      January 12, 2012

      Northampton, Massachusetts

      Me. Today. At work.

      Perpetual March

      Deep in the midst of January

      Steeped in another winter that wasn’t

      Looking out of the window

      At the sporadic patches of ice

      Interspersed with grass and dirt

      Wondering where’s the snow

      As I swap my winter coat

      For a lighter one

      Feeling the 50

      Of the thermometer

      Annoyed at the

      Perpetual March

      That has usurped the season

      January 31, 2012

      Northampton, Massachusetts

      FEBRUARY

      Negativity

      Familiarity breeds contempt

      Negativity is content

      Being created by you

      Repetition strengthens

      And cements the foundation

      You mind’s focus

      Makes it grow

      To the point where

      It’s all you know

      February 1, 2012

      Northampton, Massachusetts

      I used to live in a small city where there was an overwhelming oppressive negativity that hung thick in the air like a choking humidity. Every once in a while I go to that area’s newspaper’s website, where negativity and hatred flow like words in the comment section, and it makes me thankful I left it behind.

      It’s Sorted Sometime Later

      At work and watching

      The custodian emptying

      Trash and recycling

      Into the same bag

      Do we recycle or don’t we?

      I always assumed we did

      I secretly suspect

      It’s sorted sometime later

      But I kinda doubt it

      Maybe they’re lazy

      Maybe it’s intentional

      Making us all into liars

      When it comes to our

      Environmental claims

      Boasted on our website

      I think

      “It’s not my problem,”

      Shrug,

      And get back to work

      February 3, 2012

      Northampton, Massachusetts

      Observances at work and I can’t remain silent any longer.

      Buddy

      The people you don’t,

     

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