Review of Ed Krizek’s This Will Pass
February 10, 2021
“There is only one poem. I have written it many times.
It’s the one where I discuss the miracle of life…”
-Ed Krizek
We are all struggling through turbulent times right now, it is the current, universal human condition. In the midst of a global pandemic and a brewing political firestorm, in a country divided against itself, Ed Krizek has created a collection of poems that casts a light into the darkness. At a time when our very lives are threatened by a mere trip to the supermarket— at a time when growing civil unrest that is spilling from a great divide in this country, Krizek offers clarity in the midst of chaos:
The darkness comforts
my solitude..
The dark not of gloom
but of hope.
I wait for the light
knowing it will come.
Hope wins in these poems. The epigram above, an excerpt from the second stanza of “Sunset Beach,” is a part of the ribbon of philosophy that runs through this book. In this quote, we find Krizek’s charming wit, insight, and intellect in 21 of his own words. He continues,
Love is the one steady light
in the darkness of the universe
breaking through all barriers
and adding eternal energy to our dust.
Like F. Scott Fitzgerald’s “green light,” that blinks on and off on the faraway dock, a sign of hope, “love is the one steady light.”
The message? Life is a gift – and life is short. Krizek advises us to “[s]avor every sunrise.”
Consider “Yellow Roses,” a poem about his mother’s death. Though fifteen years have passed, his “emotions have had time to/ germinate…” Sadness overtakes him when “a memory pokes up/ organically as if from the soil itself” and his “loss blooms like a bouquet.”
Krizek faces his own mortality with wisdom and grace, and often with an understated, subtle humor. Nowhere is that more evident than in “When You are Seventy.” He reminds us that,
you can fall asleep
at parties without
anyone thinking
less of you.
The poem rolls through some light-hearted observations of the advantages of being seventy, such as “a discount at the theatre” and being invited “to the head of the line,” before the turn that comes in the last verse. From his mindful vantage point, he offers an astute observation: “Áll we have is what we experience. Embrace now, pain as well as pleasure.” He shares,
Ýou are able to look
backwards and forwards
with wistful wisdom
and realize that life,
your life
is a gift.
It is the common thread. Between the lines, the words suggest: “Do you know how lucky you are to be alive? Did you hug the one you love this morning?”
These are smart and uplifting poems. Each one whispers “carpe diem” in its own way, through an unspoken sense of gratitude. This is no more apparent than in his love poem, “Evening at Home,” which begins: “[s}he is constant as the ocean” and he is waiting for her to return. The poet is gratefully “baffled by my good fortune.” The anxiousness is palpable as,
[t]he fire burns.
I wait
knowing she will appear
before the light has gone, the fire out…
Tension builds as he hears her key turn in the front door, “while the moon is hidden/ by a nighttime cloud/ and the fire burns/bright.” That small moment “elevates the ordinary to the sacred.”
In his poem, “This Light Will Fade,” Krizek’s desire for immortality and to be remembered is balanced against a Zen-like contentment, as he savors moments made more precious by their heartbreaking beauty, sensuality and brevity: He notes,
[t]he sweetness of raisins in milk
lingers on my tongue. A thought drifts
a breeze shifts
on the sunlit surface
of the ocean.
Remarkable in their richness and depth, each of these poems have layers like an onion for the reader to peel away; coupled with lush language and use of assonance. Take, “Smoke,” for example, a poem that breathes of sentimental longing: “I thought of you again/ today, after many years,/ and I became a poem. ” The reader is committed from the first sentence. The poem has the feel of a journal entry, and we have become voyeurs. It’s as if the reader is looking over his shoulder (and as Hemingway once said about writing) watching him “bleed on the page.” Krizek continues: “I mailed myself to your office/ in a package marked/ Personal.”
The romance in those lines is unmistakable. We watch as the poet struggles, remembering an old lover. The stanza break is all you need, a caesura, to emphasize the impact of the next line: “Then I went to lie with my wife.” What a double entendre. We follow as he sees the difference between what is true, what is real-- and what is a nostalgic yearning for the past. The narrative poem concludes when he realizes he never wanted or needed anyone but his wife.
This book is remarkable for its sheer honesty. More striking is Krizek’s masterful ability to turn each epiphany into healing words, even when they rise from great trauma. These poems seek the silver lining, celebrate life and the living, the natural world and those he loves. While Hemingway describes the writing process as bleeding on the page, Krizek responds as “the mind strains/ in it’s straight-jacket of anguished rumbling…” No less a heart-wrenching process. Krizek has a keen intellect and thoughtful insight and in these poems, he contemplates life’s mysteries and our ephemeral existence. He is skilled at letting the poem dictate the form. He crafts his poems to be accessible, but they are more complex than at first glance, and there is much more going on between the lines. They possess more than thought-provoking metaphors, they reveal secrets, double meanings, that could be missed by a less than careful reader.
Take it from me, a romantic optimist. Someone who understands that shadows come only in the presence of light. This book is full of shadows and lessons, hard-won by the author in a lifetime journey, an exploration into the heart’s dark core. Whoever you are— you need this book. It soothes the soul.
Eileen M. D’Angelo is Founder/Executive Director of the Mad Poets Society, and Founder/Managing Editor of the literary magazine, Mad Poets Review (1990-2010). Since 1987, she produced over 1,500 special events, including readings, slams, conferences, workshops, bonfires and literary festivals in the Delaware Valley. In 2018, she was the subject of an anthology and tribute by Philadelphia’s Moonstone Arts Center. Twice nominated for a PA Governor’s Award in the Arts, D’Angelo received two Pushcart Prize nominations from Verse Magazine and Schuylkill Valley Journal. Poetry, op-eds, and book reviews have been published or forthcoming in The Philadelphia Inquirer, News of Delaware County, Rattle, and other publications.