Thursday, 30 August 2012
A note to let all, sundry, and sundry others know that this journal is alive and kicking. I am taking what might best be described as a tour of duty sabbatical.
To any potential contributors, please feel free to submit -- the waiting time for me to respond to you will probably be longer than I'd like, and to those who have submitted and are waiting to hear from me, please hang in there, I'll be responding to you first.
This journal is a one person labour of love, and sadly sometimes things go awry and I can't keep up the pace.
Bear with me: as I consider all of you friends and colleagues in our worldwide poetry community, so I wish, once I'm back on deck burning the midnight candle, to again devote time and energy to your excellent work.
Friday, 3 August 2012
Wednesday, 1 August 2012
Love in the Latter Part of Life
Love in the latter part of life,
Is more than a sudden squall
On calm September seas
That rises and abates.
It is an unexpected gift
Like the smile of a young girl
To a stranger.
Or a childhood portrait
In black and white
Abruptly bursting into color.
Or a crystal
Dug from the dark, stony soil
Of a mountain slope,
And held up to the sun,
The intrinsic beauty
Of its pure geometry
So the facets of our
Catch oh so briefly
The brilliant light
Of the waning afternoon
TSTmpj: It seems increasingly apparent to me that as poets grow older, the themes of old age and mortality, the past and nostalgia, inevitably more and more permeate their writing. What do you wish to share about your feelings on your own "poetic mortality"?
Art Heifetz: It’s true we aging guys reminisce a lot, but it also seems the memories become a lot sharper. My dad recalled a lot of things in the nursing home that I had forgotten but couldn’t recall what he had for breakfast. The fact that I’m at this stage of my life makes me try a lot harder to leave a mark.
TSTmpj: And yet, given my first question, it seems that for you, love -- rightly as I see it -- usurps mortality. Any thoughts?
Art Heifetz: I feel that the memory of love does. I have a poem with that title, which unfortunately is more than 30 lines. If my first wife has any shot at "eternal life," it’s through memory and maybe the poems I’ve gotten published about her. I wrote this poem about my second one when I realized I would celebrate our fiftieth wedding anniversary at the ripe old age of 114.
TSTmpj: Can love ever be "perfectly revealed" in this life?
Art Heifetz: It’s like the crystal. When you find it in your sixties, it needs a little dusting off. But when it’s held up to the light, it shines every bit as brightly as it did at 20. When the kids see you dancing in the park, they know something has been "revealed" beside the fact that grandpa has gone gaga.
Art Heifetz recently retired from a career running an insurance agency, and returned to his first love, poetry.