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Could leave this world peaceful and shriven,
Be glad somehow those old debts of mine
Must now be ledgered and forgiven.

Watching loved ones work their sad old days
The land of death now beckons and sobers me
Enough to think I will follow in their way;
And to consider how I might leave free.

Of more than the sins Jesus has taken,
And more than payments owed to friends.
No, how to leave a sweetness unshaken
In my loved ones, my wife, and my kin?

I think I've some letters I need to compose,
Some arguments I've held too close to me,
And any odd embroilment that rose
While I was on my earthly power spree.

I'm 65, a scant ten years from average death
Of men my type and height and weight.
I'm sobering quickly as I count my breath
And know re-calibrating cannot wait.
Meditation on death....
There are few absolutes.
Even less that speak as true,
To the golden hues of bygone ages
Or savage whirlpools of our youth.
We were born and we shall die
Shackled to these certainties
Eternal pirouettes of life.
Yet in the doubt we are alive,
A parable of the possible,
The probable or the just might.
Existence in the absence
Between two points of light.
In the uncertain we survive,
A ripple in the darkness,
A dream within the night.
~
January 2025
HP Poet: Rob Rutledge
Age: 35
Country: UK


Question 1: A warm welcome to the HP Spotlight, Robert. Please tell us about your background?

Rob Rutledge: "Hi, thank you for having me. I’m Robert Rutledge. I’m 35, the youngest of three boys (sorry mum), born in the south of England to Irish parents who emigrated to the UK just before I was born in the late 80’s. At nine years old we moved to Manchester in the north of England where I would find a love for music, literature and general mischief before moving back down south in my 20’s. Where I have been creating mischief ever since."


Question 2: How long have you been writing poetry, and for how long have you been a member of Hello Poetry?

Rob Rutledge: "I started writing poetry in secondary (high) school, I was really lucky to have some excellent English and Drama teachers who made it an easy subject to love. But like everything it was a journey, one very much entwined with my love for music and lyrics. At some point or another I realised I enjoyed playing with words, annoying everyone around me with puns and questionable jokes. Poetry became a natural extension of that while also providing an invaluable creative outlet. At home we had a framed poster of IF by Rudyard Kipling which seemed to mean something new every time I read it and really helped my appreciation of the written word. I often found the same joy in coming up with a riff on guitar as writing a stanza that I thought sounded epic and quickly realised there was a lot of crossover with rhythm, themes and metaphors between poetry and music.

I joined Hello Poetry in 2012 and have seen many ups and downs with the site but I also found an incredibly welcoming community, and I can say with all honestly if it wasn’t for the kindness and feedback of users here I doubt I would still be writing today."



Question 3: What inspires you? (In other words, how does poetry happen for you).

Rob Rutledge: "Inspiration can come from anyone and anywhere but more often then not I find a single line or two may come to mind. Most of my work will contain a nod or a reference to a line that I’ve either borrowed or downright plagiarised from a book, a song, a rhyme and I use that as starting point. Iain M Banks is one of my favourite authors so when I’m struggling for inspiration I will pick up one of his many excellent books and will find a beautiful phrase or image that I can use as a starting point."


Question 4: What does poetry mean to you?

Rob Rutledge: "Poetry to me is an opportunity to create, to convey a piece of myself and share it with the world. To have made something of meaning even if it only means anything to me. A painting on the wall of the cave, a contribution to the world and something that says I was alive. Its the art of putting emotion into words and if I can impart that feeling to even one person the way other poetry has made me feel then it’s even more worthwhile."


Question 5: Who are your favorite poets?

Rob Rutledge: "I tend to love poems rather than poets the notable exception would be William Butler Yeats. There is something about the romantic idealistic nostalgia of his writings that has always spoken to me. The juxtaposition of his Anglo-Irish heritage hits close to home and I think is reflected in his wistful writings. T.S Eliot, William Blake and H.P Lovecraft (only his poetry, not a very nice chap) deserve honourable mentions as well, Eliot references feature heavily in Iain M Banks’ work and helped bridge my interests between literature and poetry."


Question 6: What other interests do you have?

Rob Rutledge: "Other than Poetry, Music is my jam both playing and going to gigs / raves, I love everything from classical to jungle and everything in-between. I also enjoy computer games and sci-fi in particular. I used to play a lot of Rugby."


Carlo C. Gomez: “Thank you so much Robert, we really appreciate you giving us the opportunity to get to know the person behind the poet! It is our pleasure to include you in this Spotlight series!”

Rob Rutledge: "Thank you for the opportunity."




Thank you everyone here at HP for taking the time to read this. We hope you enjoyed coming to know Robert a little bit better. I most certainly did. It is our wish that these spotlights are helping everyone to further discover and appreciate their fellow poets. – Carlo C. Gomez

We will post Spotlight #24 in February!

~
These halls seem somewhat hollow
A certain sense of sorrow
Now graces ancient stone.
Replacing familiar faces
With defaced family paintings
And cold ancestral bones.
Thrones thrown upon a pyre.
Fate becomes the folly
Tomorrow the unknown,
The brows of time are furrowed
Past spent, lost, or borrowed
Flowers forever bloom alone.
Rats, the last lords of ruin
Rule cruel shadows from the walls.
Twilight sighs at daylight's rise
All seems dark till darkness falls.
flipping channels,
odd conjunction of random itinerants,
mix and mismatched, blend and burr, and the
combination of irritants, annoyingly raucous
pester the barely warmed brain,
by informing me to solve for X,
combine and contrast,
throw all into the blender,
add Fage yogurt, and some chill
ice with interracial combo of
black, blue & red berries
and pour it on you head…

and a breakfast poem is served up…

the utter urgency for civility
rings alarm bells, for it is so threadbare a quality these days, and it is worn by so
very few, and I ponder,
how the quality of
civility
could be so lost,
when I diagram said word,
see it
so clear
April 13 2024
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