By Gordon Joseloff
Irene Backalenick, a former longtime Westport resident, has entered a new career at 95 — poet.
Irene Backalenick with her new book of poetry, “Rueful Reflections.” (CLICK TO ENLARGE) Photo by Cynthia Mcguire
A former freelance journalist (New York Times, etc.) and noted 30-year theater critic, she calls herself a “beginner poet” and has just published her first book, “Rueful Reflections,” available at Amazon.com.
Now a resident of Bridgeport’s Watermark senior living facility, Backalenick said, “I’d never written a poem in my life until I moved here.”
Her profile on the back on the book elaborates: “It proved to be the perfect genre for retrospection.
“From this mountaintop, I could look back over the long years, evaluate the arduous climb — its sudden triumphs, bitter disappointments, dazzling discoveries, and, I Iike to think, slow growth of wisdom.”
She said she and fellow journalist Liz Barzda decided to launch a writing workshop at Watermark. They then worked with retired professor Regina Krummel of Norwalk who, she says, “literally pushed me into poetry since she didn’t consider feature stories ‘creative.’
“And, out of nowhere, came the poems, pouring forth (mostly at 2 a.m.) It was a chance to look back at my life, to be deeply honest, to pursue a new genre focused on myself.”
The book is called Volume 1. ”The second will be out shortly,” she says. “And that’s it.”
Asked to highlight some favorites among the 180 poems in the first volume, she sent along these:
WESTPORT DAYS
Did we know the riches we possessed
The heritage we thought our due
Those wondrous Westport days
That fell uncounted, piling up
The children, friends, the poolside parties
The suppers by the beach
Forays to the city, trips spent overseas
The endless sultry summertime
Glowing, growing, golden
Only now, in this late era
Now safely wrapped in memory.
Do we cherish what we had
MIGRATION
The story of all peoples
Is the story of migration
For ten thousand years or more
We’ve swept across the globe
Seeking hunting grounds
Or lands of milk and honey
Sanctioned by our gods
We’ve spread our seed
Reaching aborigines
With conquest, rape and purpose
Or with more gentle unions
Mixing language, sperm and culture
Thus we’ve changed the planet
With endless immigration
Multi-layered, multi-colored
Neither good nor evil
But a history of mankind
