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Copyright: Fred Robel, and Fritz365 2010-2017. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog's author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Fred Robel and Fritz365 with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Thursday, June 14, 2018

Righteous Movement

Busy hands
Busy feet and toes
Keep it busy
Keep it moving
Keep it go

Some days that's all one can do
With the dark clouds all around
Soul assaulted with the blues

Attack a problem
Solve it
Find another one
Quick like a bunny

Or a randomly generated Hershey's Kiss of Doom
Will approach too fast to flee
Melting upon you
Holding you fast within a tinfoil dream grasp


Survival is all about righteous movement

Sunday, June 10, 2018

Expertus Auditu

Once a year it always awaits
That small grey booth with one window
Placed disconcertingly at the back of my head
As I sit down in the ageless brown vinyl jump seat inside

The surprisingly heavy sound insulated door snicks shut
Magnets holding it firmly closed
Just touching my right side
An indication of the pounds that I've gained since last year

On a drunken octopus double hook
Mounted on the sound deadening wall in front of me
Hangs headphones that have sat ten thousand heads
Throwbacks to the old 1970's Catholic School learning lab

Hard plastic ear cups attached to silver steel adjusters
No comfort for this old man at his annual hearing test

Waiting for the old canned voice over to initiate the rote exam
I stare mindlessly at the grey wall before me
Pin pricked by a million needles
If I stare deeply enough the points will swim before me
Trying to form a hidden image
That will never come

Years ago
There was a pinup picture
Of a redhead in a swimsuit to gaze upon
Though those days are long past
Down a dusty rabbit hole of human resource rules

I almost jump when the voice finally sounds off
Giving brief instructions to press a red button whenever I hear beeping
Before silence descends inside my little soundproof box again
I know I won't hear the first few rounds of beeps
I haven't for almost 20 years now
As turbine engines and rivet guns have seen to that frequency range for me

Soon enough
I hear what I can hear
And I press the button as required
Until it is another year down
And another year to go
Until I have to come back again

And a tiny bit more deaf
Than in the years before

Monday, March 26, 2018

Fuck The Man

I will not gather
In your prescribed
Roped off
And appropriately marked area

I will not share my thoughts
In your approved format
Leaving out words of passion
In short clear bullet pointed lists

I will not watch my clock
To gather at the appropriate time
When it is convenient for you
And least disruptive

I will not practice my civil disobedience in a manner that the Man prefers

Assorted Associations

You reap what you sow
That's how it goes
Apple seeds
Begat apple trees
Johnny learned that
And now there's a song about him

Nothing but strange elevator music on the playlist
But it is compelling
With a driving beat
Urging me on to Floor 24
With all the socks and underwear
I could ever want

Oh sweet surrender
To the song of summer
And Daylight Savings time
Which I've been doing all my life
Until I have enough for a new coat
That will cover up all the things I've never done

Unaccompanied minor stanzas
Crowding the public conveyance
Baffling the stewards
Who don't know where to put them
So they all end up in a certain order
Just like this

Sunday, March 11, 2018

Weaponized Wrench

Here I lie
Cast in steel
Clad in chrome
Imprinted with sigil
Enclosed darkness my home

I await the beckon of your hand
Into which I fit naturally
To every curve and crevass
A weapon of repair and assembly
Unsheathed at last

Your king calls
To arms!
To arms!

Friday, February 16, 2018


There once was

At once ambiguous and specific
Depending upon what comes after
Whether person place or thing
It could be you
With this past forming a veiled shade of what

There will be

This expectation of the future
A dream
A hope
A plan
People can push through
Fed on nothing more than that promise
Of what will be

There is

An expression of now
With all the accumulated implications of

There once was

Combined with the hopes
Dreams and expectations of

There will be

Making it a statement of the fact of this moment
Everything past present and future
All wrapped up in what is

Be the best present tense you can be
Built upon
Or in spite of what was
And always aspire for more

Because it will be magnificent

Wednesday, February 7, 2018

Object of Reference

Floating twisting turning tumbling
Rock hard outer shell
Just another rock
Just another roll
Just another traveler across the void

Trying to plot an origin point
Would be an exercize in headache refinement
Something to pulse agonizingly
Within the logic centers of your brain
Until an answer refuses to be acknowledged
Until you throw your nerd notebook across the floor

In a tiny nerd rage
With tiny nerd fists
Because everything is tiny
On the scale you are used to dealing with

Inches may as well be mountains
With just as much relationship to ratio

Used to a constant companion of back pain
From lugging around such a big brain
There is no reason you can't figure this out

Still there it is
On a constant trajectory
With an occasional wiggle in the graph
From outside gravitational influence


A line that disappears into a forest of probablility
A mystery that is getting closer every day

Plenty of time though
As things like this go
It is going rather slow

Now logged dutifully in the logbook
As object LSGO-0142018