My name is Ed. I’m pleased to meet you.

It’s been just past a year now since I started posting articles on Medium, so I guess it’s time I introduced myself. …

Let me tell you why.

It was not an easy thing to turn my back on Christianity at nearly 60 years of age. Since my childhood, church had been the hub of social life for me. Prayer had started every meal, and Christian ritual had solemnized the sacred moments and transition points of life. …

A Master of Fine Arts at 69

How dull it is to pause, to make an end,
To rust unburnish’d, not to shine in use!
As tho’ to breathe were life! Life piled on life
Were all too little, and of one to me
Little remains: but every hour is saved
From that eternal silence, something more,
A bringer of new things …

The Other Side of Consent

A comment on one of my recent articles caught my attention. A young man expressed appreciation for my advice about letting friendship grow before deciding whether to explore a sexual connection.

The problem was, he said, sometimes women he went out with were ready for sex before he was.


More popular — and more diverse — than ever

I recently took another writer here to task for attacking modern poetry and everyone who writes it. Her disparagement was nothing to be taken seriously, just opinionated ignorance. But later, it occurred to me, her complaints about contemporary poetry sounded awfully familiar. In fact, they were the same tired old…

But she doesn’t know jack about poetry

I’ve been a fan of Tessa Schlesinger for most of the time I’ve been on Medium, just over a year now. Everyone should read her essays. Tessa calls herself a global citizen, author, thinker, and polymath. …

At least, the parts of it that can be taught

Some of them were there because they thought it would be easy. Or that the stories that they wrote in fourth grade, or the poetry in high school, proved they knew already how to be creative.

Others signed up for CRWR 2310 because some advisor in the Athletic Department at…


Mother Goose gets no fortune cookie with her take-out

Although the eggs we dropped were few and young
as mung bean sprouts, they cooked our dynasty
to scalding soup that lycheed from my tongue
its taste for dragon out the fantasy.

The appetizing spring rolled far away
to dim the sum of summer’s brief appeal.
Someone left moo shoe tracks on…

Here’s a simple plan.

Getting followers on Medium should not be a problem for any good writer. It won’t even take that long — a few weeks, tops. It will require some effort, and some skill at writing. …

The Truth in Poetry Act requires me to inform you that this really kind of happened.

Poets speak a special kind of truth. We are not journalists.

The muse directing my attention misses most of what a good reporter might call the important details, the facts inquiring minds demand to know, because I only care about the thing that makes the moment a poetic one.


Edward Robson, PhD, MFA

Retired psychologist, wordsmith, teacher, learner. Buy me coffee:

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