Beyond Cloud Eight
Beyond Cloud Eight
81p
A continuation of my memoir in poems, this book reflects further on my life, beginning as the child of immigrants in New York City in the 1940s. It also explores the dreams that motivated me, the connections that nourished me, and the departures of loved ones that helped me grow. I'm now 79 years old.
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Some Reviews
In his latest poetry collection, Beyond Cloud Eight, Ed Ryterband carries us on a journey filled with tenderness and warmth. In these beautifully rendered poems we connect to memories, moods, even musical experiences, through the wit, humor, and honesty of the writing. We meet family members, friends, and many people from his life as he explores relationships and moments of challenge or inspiration. His strong images and phrasing often suggest hope as he writes in The Looks of Love … to still believe there will be ways to love ahead. Ryterband’s poetry offers a perspective into a lifetime of deep introspection.
—Colleen Lineberry, Painter, professor of creative writing, poet
In “Beyond Cloud Eight,” Ed Ryterband ponders family, love, and friendship with a sense of humor and perspective as he traces the geography of heart and mind in his seventies. He wryly acknowledges all is not harmony, as he navigates the country of old age in the company of his beloved ‘’tenured partner”. Surveying cast-off attic treasures in “Ghosts in the Attic”, he listens to them: “…we’re messengers…we’re here to testify.” Ryterband also testifies. In “Autumn,” he tastes the disappointments of a post-election day, when “we closed our minds to immigrants, surrendered to our leaders’ claim: they came to take your portion.”
—Eileen Moon, Author Legendary Locals; Reporter NY Times
This collection sums up a mature poet’s reflections on earlier times in life that now take on a profound significance. A dinner event with his parents as a child foreshadows a wounded relationship: He comes back to the table mute/ ranting gone like many times before/a dark and looming silence. Next day I screw my courage up/force myself to ask…/…she looks straight at me/Her quiet words/ Your father is a good provider./She turns into her chores. In the stillness of many of these delicate poems there is understanding that comes with age. As Ryterband says he aspires, like Donald Hall “to write about the later stages of life with the candor and the grace they deserve.”
—Gabor Barabas, Author The Collected Poems, Russian Chronicles