I was one of the lucky (and old, I suppose) people who saw “Aliens” (1986) in the theater. (I am linking here, by the way, to Grindhouse Movie Trailers.)
This trailer had one of the greatest taglines in history too — “Aliens: This Time, It’s War.”
Tag Archives: Eric Robert Nolan
Emerald City Ghosts publishes “This Windy Morning”
My ghost poem has found a new home! The really cool people at Emerald City Ghosts published “This Windy Morning” today in their inaugural issue. You can find it right here:
Emerald City Ghosts is a new publisher of spectral things that are reminiscent of the Pacific Northwest (which, incidentally, is a place I have always wanted to visit). The Substack-based magazine’s aim is “to provide the internet with spooky, rain-drenched stories, poems, and reviews.” I am grateful to the editors for allowing me to be a part of the launch of such a unique and engaging publication.
“I met a kitten with whom I was smitten.”
I met a kitten
with whom I was smitten.
I laid frosted wheat
in front of her feet.
It was all that I had!
(My diet is sad.)
But she ran away
this sorrowful day.
Alright, look — I know that dry cereal is an idiotic treat with which to befriend a cat. But off-brand Frosted Shredded Mini-Wheat really was all I was carrying, besides a couple of Kit-Kat bars. (I am a poet, not a nutritionist, and I’d only needed those two things when I was out.)
I’ve never been 100 percent clear about whether it was a myth or not that chocolate was dangerous to animals (brand name notwithstanding). So of course I kept the candy in the bag.
Throwback Thursday: “Atlantis: the Lost Continent” (1961)!
Hot damn, this movie blew my mind when I was a kid. It was made in 1961, but it was on television in the early 1980’s.
By the way, I am linking here to the Youtube channel for the really cool people at Unseen Trailers.
Liverwurst is evidence of a loving god.
Liverwurst. With thinly sliced tomato on top. (Okay, I can’t slice tomatoes to save my life.) Or a smattering of onions. That’s even better, in fact.
No, this is not disgusting — it is DIVINE. You just can’t appreciate that because you’re a Philistine.
You say to-MAY-to and I say to-MAH-to and all that.
Throwback Thursday: the fabled rotating comic stand!
Yep. When I was in kid on Long Island, it would be either war comics (especially Sgt. Rock), Conan the Barbarian (or his himbo spiritual cousin, Ka-Zar the Savage) any of the various Archie titles, or a horror comic. (I thought superhero comics were stupid when I was a kid. In order for a comic to entertain me, it had to include war, swords, Archie or monsters).
When I was in the fifth or sixth grade, my dad would occasionally pick me up titles that only seemed available in Manhattan, where he worked as a bus driver — books like the 1980’s iteration of the Blackhawk Allied commandoes or (joy and rapture) The Further Adventures of Indiana Jones. (Maybe Indy’s title adhered more loosely to the rule of thumb I cited above, but that was forgivable, because it was the greatest comic book ever created.)
The last time I saw a rotating rack like this was … 1993? 1994? For a while, it was neat little fixture of the 7-11 along Route 1 just outside Mary Washington College in Fredericksburg, Virginia. You could make a run for coffee or nachos at any hour and snag a comic while you were at it. By then, I was thoroughly entrenched in the DC and Marvel superhero pantheons. (A really cool goth kid in my freshman dorm had shown me Frank Miller’s work, and I was hooked.)
“Kerry,” by Robert James Nolan
My father was a poet too. He wrote this for my sister Kerry for her 16th birthday.
There are a couple of references here that might be confusing … Longwood was the name of our high school. (Students were known as “Lions” and the cheerleaders were “Lionettes.”) And my sister wore an eyepatch when she was very young to correct a vision issue.
“Kerry,” by Robert James Nolan
I’ve a daughter (name of Kerry), she is my second born,
She’s as pretty as a sunset and as graceful as a fawn.
And, though not really a healthy child (we once thought she was dying),
She beat all the odds against her, ’cause she tried (and kept on trying!)
When just a babe, she had to wear a patch upon her eye,
And she wore it, though she couldn’t understand the reason why.
She wore it when she played jump rope, and jacks and Barbie dolls,
She wore it playing hide-and-seek in Forest Park’s green knolls.
She wore it when she went to school (I know THAT was hard to do.)
She wore it and she didn’t complain (hey girl, we’re proud of you)!
Now she’s all grown up and popular (her friends are always callin’).
And at school it is for Kerry Jeanne the boys are always fallin’.
She is a famous Longwood Lionette and a rising Longwood Track star,
And everyone who knows her says, “That girl is sure to go far.”
And Kerry’s quite the baker (baking is a family trait).
She makes chocolate chocolate-chip cookies that really are first-rate.
She can swim like a fish and dive like a seal with hardly a splash or bubble.
And does gymnastics routines with an elegant ease (though the times tables still give her trouble).
There’s a whole lot more that I could say about our Kerry Jeanne,
And the tings that she’s accomplished (though she’s still not quite sixteen).
But instead I’ll ask the question. “Kerry, wouldn’t it be fun …
“To memorize the times tables before you’re 21?”
Poets Anonymous will publish my work in its upcoming annual Gathering anthology
I am so pleased to share here that Poets Anonymous will yet again publish my work in its annual Gathering anthology; my poem “As Silver as the Stars You Tried to Rival” will appear in Gathering 2025.
You can preorder a copy of the book right here at the Local Gems Press website. The launch event will be on August 27th in Chantilly, Virginia. (Details are at the website.)
This will be the third year running that Poets Anonymous has selected my writing for this annual collection. I am grateful to Lesley Tyson and Megan McDonald of Poets Anonymous, along with James P. Wagner of the Bards Initiative.
I’m a Fred I have another bad pun for you.
So here’s the plan — I’m gonna move back to my college town of Fredericksburg, Virginia, and start a poetry group there.
Gonna call it “Fred Poets Society.”
(I already e-mailed my old writing prof and told him he had to be our Mr. Keating.)
Life of Pie.
Eric Robert Nolan, Author 