O'sullivan's Place: The Poetry of Joe Robert

By Joe Robert

Take a journey to that place of the memory, of recalling good times, times that were not so good, a place you would like to return to if only for a little while. That place is OSullivans Place. Once there, you can explore, not only past memories, but current encounters with real people who face the daily grind of their jobs yet still perform out of dedication. Also explore some of the wonders and questions of nature and some of our most personable critters. And delve into the human experience of lifes triumphs and follies as Joe Robert takes you there through his uncluttered verse and stimulating prose.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trafford Publishing
• Release date: May 24, 2012
• ISBN: 9781466935594

Joe Robert

Joe Robert, whose real name is Joe Robert Lock, is a sixty-one-year-old retired schoolteacher who has taught special education in the central Florida school system for twenty-two years. Lock was born and raised in the Detroit, Michigan, area and graduated from Oakland University in Rochester, Michigan, in 1974 with a degree in English and education. He worked mostly in sales and retail management until he was thirty-eight years old and then moved to Florida to achieve his long-held goal of becoming a classroom teacher. Teaching jobs were scarce in Michigan in 1989, and he knew his chances of getting hired were better in Florida. He was offered a job teaching elementary developmentally delayed students. He took the job, became certified in special education, and he said he has never had any regrets. Lock has three children, Andrew, Vicki, and Mary; and two grandchildren, Cadence and Emma; and is engaged to another teacher, Anna Radosti.

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O’SULLIVAN’S

PLACE

The Poetry of Joe Robert

JOE ROBERT

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© Copyright 2012 Joe Robert.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written prior permission of the author.

ISBN: 978-1-4669-3557-0 (SC)

ISBN: 978-1-4669-3558-7 (HC)

ISBN: 978-1-4669-3559-4 (E)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2012908453

Trafford rev. 05/21/2012

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Contents

FOREWORD

PREFACE

O’SULLIVAN’S PLACE

KNOWING

KNIGHT IN SHINING ARMOR

THE LADY

WHAT DOES A MAN WANT IN LIFE?

TO MY LOVE

PROCRASTINATION

AS I SIT WAITING AND WAITING AND WAITING…

WHILE I SIT WAITING (AGAIN)

A VISIT TO THE EYE DOCTOR

UPON WRITING LIKE KEATS

MISSING YOU

NO POEM TODAY

. . . IN ME?

AN APOLOGY

I DON’T NEED A POEM

THE AIR THAT I BREATHE

THIS MORNING

WHAT IS LOVE?

SEPTEMBER LOVE

ROUTINE VISIT

THE IRIS

SWEETEST DAY

THE CRITTER POEMS AND SOME ABOUT NATURE

CATS

THE SPIDER

UPON SEEING THE SKY FILLED WITH CROWS

PICTURES IN THE CLOUDS

DOGS

THE SOLAR SYSTEM

THE SALMON

THE POLAR BEAR

FLOODS, HURRICANES, NATURAL DISASTERS…

PEOPLE AND THEIR OCCUPATIONS AND A FEW MISCELLANEOUS POEMS

WOMEN

THE WATCHMAKER

THE SNIPER

THE TEACHER

THE SKEET SHOOTER

THE SALESMAN

THE RED HEADED GIRL

THE PITCHER

THE MUSIC STORE SALESMAN

THE MECHANIC

THE LIFEGUARD

THE FRY COOK

THE FLY FISHERMAN

THE FAST FOOD RESTAURANT

THE BASS PLAYER

THE TUTOR

THE DEBATE AND THE GOP CANDIDATES (2011-12)

THE QUARTERBACK

I’M LOOKING FOR A JOB TODAY

TECHNOLOGY

YOU COULD GET A TATOO, YOU KNOW

SPRING BREAK

THE BAR B Q

THE BANK TELLER

THE BANJO

AS I GET OLDER

WHEN MY SON WAS LITTLE

WAITING FOR A TABLE

TRUE FREEDOM?

TRAVEL

THE TELEVISION

THAT SHAMEFUL MONSTER

NOTHING TO WRITE ABOUT

I DON’T KNOW

THE LIGHT BULB

THE GAS STATION

HAVE YOU EVER KNOWN A LIAR?

GRAMMAR

FROM WHERE DOES ONE DRAW INSPIRATION?

COFFEE

CEPHAS, THE HOLISTIC HERBALIST

A POEM

THE GIRL AND HER LITTLE GUN

WHAT IS RIGHT?

INDEPENDENCE DAY

PAY DAY

THE ROAD HOUSE

THE SONGS

WALKING ON THE SIDEWALK

ME AND OLD BILL

YOU’VE GOT TO BELIEVE IN SOMETHIN’

RIGHT BACK HERE WITH YOU

I STILL GOT YOU

FOREWORD

I remember walking with Joe Robert on the campus of Macomb Community College, in Warren, Michigan, one particularly bracing fall day in 1971.

As we stopped, no doubt to take in the loveliness of some young female students, a squadron of geese suddenly took to the air in a startling yet disciplined sortie to targets unknown. Another friend commented on the grace and beauty of the birds, to which Joe replied I wish I had my shotgun.

There is something pure and honest about a man who remains true to himself at the very time he is expanding his intellect through education. Joe saw no incongruity in being a 1970s college student who loved to hunt and fish. He was then, and still is, the sportsman writer, ala Jim Harrison or Ernest Hemingway: equally adept at shooting down a waterfowl or the argument of a fool.

That was a wonderful time to be in college. We had a thirst for knowledge and devoured all we could get. While many, if not most, students today are focused on the practical and occupational benefits of a college education, we baby boomers still reveled in the liberal arts tradition of knowledge for its own sake. Joe and I would both go on to become writers later in life, thankful for the education that informed our work.

During those halcyon days, we both read the de-rigueur fiction of Philip Roth, Richard Brautigan and Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. Joe, however, was also drawn to the work of another sportsman writer, Ernest Hemingway. While I found the parsimonious style of Hemingway to be dry and merely descriptive, Joe Robert was fascinated with that same pureness and honesty that I now see in Joe’s own writing. Who knew that the seed of Papa Hemingway’s words would take such deep root in Joe’s soul that he would later produce his own poetry and prose, all the while remaining true to himself?

The poems in O’Sullivan’s Place leap from the trout springs and duck blinds of Joe Robert’s life to his trenchant observances of modern society and technology. His poems are accessible and devoid of the impressionistic sleight of hand that makes some poetry meaningful only to the author and a small circle of friends. Joe’s poems are deep and incisive, yet ever so readable and enjoyable. I, myself, having the recessive genes for abstraction and imagery have avoided writing poetry so as to save my family from certain humiliation upon the public airing of my shortcomings. My good friend Joe, on the other hand, has fully earned the right to have his poems published and enjoyed by as many readers as possible.

Poetry is so personal an art that I cannot tell you which poems you will enjoy the most. Each of us has had our own life experiences, and the poem that hits me in the gut might sail over your head like an anonymous crow. Nonetheless, let me make some suggestions. Story lovers will appreciate the linear tableaus of The Watchmaker, The Music Store Salesman and The Fast Food Restaurant. If it’s humor you seek, read Cats, A Visit to the Eye Doctor or Women. For the highbrows among you, there is the purposely derivative homage, Upon Writing Like Keats or the cleverly structured The Air That I Breathe.