The Ancient Mariner

Shade

2009-06-29T11:19:00.007-05:00

This is a poem that had it's origins in a song. Well, actually two songs, in fact. I learned early on, in my writing, I could use songs I liked as a structure to build off of. I could use the cadence and/or rhythm of a song as the framework for my words. This was one of the very first times I done that.

In late 2001 the group Puddle Of Mudd had a huge hit with a song called Blurry. Really great song, I'm sure most of you have heard it, but if not, give it a listen. While it was still popular and topping the charts, I used it as a framework to write this poem. I didn't use the topic or the words or anything like that. As I stated before, I used the cadence and/or rhythm of how the words in that song flowed.

I said earlier this poem had it's origins in two songs. Well, you just heard about the first song. The second was the product of my first writing. When I finished, I realized I hadn't wrote a poem at all. What I had written was another song. It had it's own chorus, bridge and everything. I kept it intact (with chorus and bridge) for a very long time. However, I'm not much of a musician, so I decided to cut out the chorus and bridge and just turn it into the poem you will read below.

I have several other poems/songs that were written much the same way, but I believe this was the first, if not, one of the first.

As far as the content and theme of the poem go? Well, the way I recall it, this was also one of the first poems I made a conscious decision to sit down and come up with something out of thin air. It's really hard to remember now (7 or 8 years later), but I'm sure it had something to do with some movie I was either watching or had just seen. I've been able to use movies as a really good harvesting ground for poetry.

Anyhow, I hope you like it. By the way, the title actually comes from the now deleted chorus. I figured I'd just let it stay instead of renaming it. Enjoy!

Shade

My life spins around me

what's it all about

Confusion's all I can see

along with fear and doubt

Everything's so surreal

it's like I'm watching me

In an old romance film

that you just cannot see

You could be my true love

I could be your fool

You'd run when push comes to shove

I'd stick to you like glue

You could trash what I feel

I would pick it up

Twist your words with my skill

make it seem like love

Your loveliness surrounds my

never changing heart

You can't tear us down by

keeping us apart

My feelings for you can't be

wiped away, so quit

You've always felt just as me

so just give in to it

You could be my river

that flows from shore to shore

I could be your ocean

that cycles back for more

You'd empty out into me

everything you are

All the good and bad things

I'd store them in my heart

-Robert Joles

40th Birthday Poem

2009-06-26T17:11:00.004-05:00

I've decided to switch gears this time and try to not depress you so much. Who needs all the morbidity, with all the sad news over the past few days? So here's a fun one.

The concept for this poem came from the march of time, which we cannot stop. My 40th birthday was coming up and people were asking me how it feels to be going over the hill. Honestly, I wasn't feeling bad about it at all. I felt a heck of a lot worse about turning 20. I was leaving my fun teens when I turned 20. That was sad and depressing. Going from 39 to 40 really isn't much of a leap.

However, I felt obligated to at least entertain the thought of it making me depressed, but every time I did, funny things kept hitting my mind. I was laughing to myself, because some people act as if turning 40 is akin to turning 90 or something.

Anyhow, the following is an Intro. and Poem I came up with to laugh at my turning 40. Enjoy!

There is an old proverb, which says "Laugh, and the whole world laughs with you. Cry, and you cry alone." So in the spirit of that old proverb and at the risk of extreme self-deprecation, I give you my 40th Birthday Poem.

Oh my, oh my Lordy.

Can you believe this nut made forty?

From birth until twenty,

The good and fun times are plenty.

As for the next half to come,

At least the first half was fun.

That first step out of bed

Becomes something you dread.

The morning trip to the loo,

Seems that the distance has grew.

Oh, how much did I drinkle?

Must be the world's longest tinkle.

And then you'll look in the mirror.

Oh, you can't see? Well, come nearer.

Is that a gray in my head?

Oh, he's cute. Name him Fred.

But, then as time lingers on,

You'll curse Fred and his Spawn.

And, oh, those lines in your face?

Just grin and bear them with grace.

All those aches and those pains,

Drives lesser men to complain.

As for me, I'm a bull.

This poem is for other poor souls.

What's that? My dreams are all fake?

Oh, you said ice cream and cake.

Just seems at times hard to hear

With this little aid in my ear.

So, bring on the cake, let's begin.

Oh wait!!! My false teeth aren't in.

-Robert Joles

Why I Had To Leave

2009-06-25T03:45:00.008-05:00

This is a poem I wrote a year or so ago and actually done some editing on as recently as last night. I believe this is the finished product though.

To give you a little background on this poem, I have to tell you I was suffering through a pretty major bout of depression at the time. At that time, I felt as though I would never live out the year. I had no particular reason to justify this thinking, but it was prevalent in my mind, nonetheless.

With these dreadful thoughts of an early demise constantly running through my head, it also made me think of all the things I was going to miss down the road. Including the day my daughter's would get married.

I guess with those overwhelming emotions at the time, this poem really just kind of wrote itself. I never really wrote the poem specifically as if it was one of my daughters and I as the characters, but more of this is how I could see someone who actually was ill, dealing with the situation.

I hope never to have to experience such a thing, and I'm glad I don't have the overwhelming depression I was in at that time, which drew out the inspiration for this poem.

Anyhow, here it is I hope you like it.

Why I Had To Leave

From the bed he held her hand

Remembered castles in the sand

Her future played upon his mind

The happiness that she would find

Through all his pain and suffering

She stood beside him and she'd sing

Her soothing voice would ease the pain

And drench his soul like summer rain

The moment came they feared would come

They said goodbye each one by one

The little girl cried "Daddy no!"

"Please tell me why you have to go!"

Her mother pulled her to the side

Tried to explain why Daddy died

But she just couldn't understand

Just yesterday he'd held her hand

Now 12 years later down the road

She sits and stares at a ring of gold

All dressed in white for marrying

But she is missing one last thing

He isn't there to make her smile

He isn't there to walk the aisle

She wonders how it would have been

To have him more than just within

Her Mother's eyes were filled with tears

That showed the pain of a dozen years

She passed to her an envelope

With the last words her Daddy wrote

And on the front these words were scrawled

As from beyond as if he'd called

I won't be there to give away

So please don't read 'til Wedding Day

Her eyes were focused at the top

The words she read just made her stop

And her heart began to grieve

As she read "This Is Why I Had To Leave."

"There was no way I could protect

The ones I loved 'cause I was sick

I couldn't help you climb a tree

I couldn't soothe a scraped up knee

How could I teach you how to drive

When I could barely stay alive

Just long enough to write this down

For you to read while in your gown

Since then I've watched you everyday

I've seen you grow and seen you play

And I've been able to protect

And if was needed, interject

I've watched you all throughout your life

And now I'll watch you make a wife

I've been so proud to be your Dad

So please don't let this make you sad

So now you know I've never left

And you have never been bereft

I've always been, I'll always be

Within your heart I'll never leave"

-Robert Joles

The Voice

2009-06-22T06:09:00.008-05:00

I thought I would start you out with the poem that really got the whole ball rolling for me. I had written a few little things prior to this, but mainly they were just funny/sweet little quips to my wife on a birthday or an anniversary.

This was the 1st time I felt overwhelming COMPELLED to write something. The background on how this poem came to be written is very sad, because I had to lose a friend for the inspiration to write it.

My friend's name was Thomas Kraft. I had been friends with Thomas since 1984, when he was 16 and I was 15. We were never really super close until, maybe, the last 5 or 6 years of his life. Him, I and some other friends had kind of reconnected after being out of school for close to a decade.

By the time I had reconnected with Thomas, I was married and had a little girl. He was settling down, himself, and was soon to have a wife and baby. We ended up in the same church together and really started to hit it off. More so, even, than we had back in high school.

Thomas was an acquired taste for almost anybody. He had a really odd sense of humor and most people, upon first meeting, didn't warm up to him. Over the years, though, and with more exposure to one another, I began to see under the layers and came to know a genuinely good natured and sensitive guy. But, he would have never let you know that unless you put in a decade or so of time to earn it. LOL.

Thomas, now married with 3 children, had just bought a house, after landing a pretty good job working on elevators. He was with the elevator union, though, and sometimes would find himself on the bench waiting for the next available job.

This is how it was in the summer of 1999, when Thomas had been on the bench for a longer amount of time than he had anticipated. This lack of regular paychecks was pressing hard on him financially, with the new house, and I knew it.

So, with the summer heat really killing me in my roofing business, I thought it would be beneficial for both of us if he started working with me until the elevator union put him back to work. I told him I couldn't really offer much, but at least it could supplement for him and hopefully keep him afloat. He agreed and off to work we went.

We spent about two to three hot summer months together in a truck or on a roof. We were with each other all day, 5 to 6 days out of the week. And that didn't count Sundays when I seen him at church and sometimes after, watching pre-season football that summer.

My point to all this, is to try and let you get a feel for how close we had become over those last few months. We began to confide in each other and even advise each other on matters, like we had never done before. It's really good to have close friends you can trust and confide in. I'm a lucky man, I've had several over the course of my life. Thomas, being one of the closest.

He would relate to me his feelings about his wife and children. They meant the world to him. He would tell me about his hopes and dreams for the future. And his future was bright, indeed.

You see, I watched Thomas Kraft grow up right before my eyes that summer of '99. Don't get me wrong, he still retained that odd sense of humor, but I could see through it now. I could see down into his soul and I knew the outside persona was just a put on. Deep down, Thomas was a kind, caring and loving Husband, Father, Son, Brother and, for me, Friend.

So, when Thomas called me on a Friday evening, after work, to let me know he was being put back to work by the union, I was ecstatic for him. I knew this meant his financial struggles were soon to come to an end. However, I was sad in a sense too, because I was gonna miss having him in that truck all day long beside me.

When Sunday rolled around the NFL season had been underway a couple of weeks and Thomas, as usual, came over after church to watch the games with me. We spent the entire day together watching football, eating too much food and laughing at that odd sense of humor.

When he got ready to leave, that evening, he told me he had to get to bed early, because the new job was on the other side of the state and he had to get up early. I told him it wasn't gonna be the same without him in that truck the next morning and that was met with a typical gesture of Thomas' humor, which I won't go into details on in case your eating, but suffice it to say we both had to leave the room and I couldn't go back in there for half an hour.

That was the last time I saw Thomas Kraft alive. That next morning I was in my truck with an empty seat next to me when my cell phone rang. When you get news like that, it feels like someone pulls the earth out from under you and your hurtling through space.

Thomas had not been on the job long that morning when a horrible accident occurred while he was working at the bottom of an elevator shaft. Tragedy and fate doesn't care if you're a good Father. Tragedy and fate doesn't care if your a good Husband. Tragedy and fate didn't care that he was my good Friend. When it's your time it's your time, right?

That did nothing to ease the thoughts and visions going through my head, on my drive back home, after receiving the devastating news. A drive that took longer than usual, because I had to keep pulling over to gather myself.

When I got home I hugged my wife and I hugged my two little girls, who were too young to understand why Daddy was crying uncontrollably. I then went to my room and collapsed in a puddle of tears on my bed.

Lying in that bed, horrible thoughts and visions swam through my head. I kept seeing my friend turn and look up and it horrified me to no end to think of the fear that he must of had at that moment in time. It was eating at me and I couldn't let it go. I wanted so much, to know he never knew anything happened.

Then a flood of words and sentences began to flow through my mind and gather into formation. I had to get a pen and paper fast! I felt as though I couldn't write fast enough. And here is the result.

The Voice

I heard today a voice I've heard before

Gentle as the waves upon the shore

Just before unto God I surrendered all

I heard it like an echo down a hall

And in times when I was stressed and all upset

This voice would calm me down and I'd forget

And when decisions came along I couldn't make

This voice would point me down the path to take

I heard it in my children's newborn cries

I could have sworn I seen it in my wife's eyes

I heard it all throughout my life

And clearer it would come in pain and strife

Yes, I heard today a voice I've heard before

It was telling me of the things I had in store

I heard it and I turned to see where from

And seen God in all his glory bidding me "Come"

-Robert Joles

Introduction

2009-06-21T05:14:00.006-05:00

Well, I figured I've made myself look plenty crazy enough with the other blogs, so I'm gonna let you guys know exactly how far over the cliff I've went, by letting you see my attempts at "creative" writing.

I've been putting pen to paper for about a decade, give or take a year or two. It's actually a pretty good stress reliever and it's fun to see what might come out. I have, approximately, 70-80 pieces of work, which I have either completed, started or outlined. I will be letting you guys see some of the completed poems, short stories and ramblings.

I used to be kind of embarrassed to think someone would find out I like to write. However, I turned 40 back in March so I figure maybe I gained a bit of a different perspective on caring whether someone else approves of the things I do or don't like to do with my time.

Some of my writings are personal, but most are just ideas that would just pop into my head and sit there and itch to get out until I obeyed. I wrote an essay once on what inspires people to write and maybe I'll post that here in the future, but suffice it to say, just about anything can inspire a person to put pen to paper. Sometimes, you don't even need the "inspiration", but just the desire to want to do it.

I would encourage everybody to write. It doesn't matter if you think it's good or bad. It doesn't matter if it's a song, poem, short story, diaries, journals or heck even a novel if your feeling froggy. Just write. It's good for the soul.

Well I've said enough for one post, but I hope you guys get as much enjoyment out of reading some of these, as I did, sometimes, in writing them. I don't mind being critiqued on my writings, so don't hesitate to comment.

I want to leave you guys with a link to a page with my personal favorite poem. It was written by Samuel Taylor Coleridge and is called The Rime of the Ancient Mariner. Its almost more of a story than a poem, but it's a very enjoyable read. I had to make it the first entry on this site, considering the site name. Enjoy!

The Rime of the Ancient Mariner <-------------CLICK HERE

I'll be typin' at ya later,

Bob the Blogger