From Mother to Daughter to Mother Again ... In Memory of Genevieve Krueger

Happy Holidays, Merry Christmas 

and a Wonderful New Year, Everyone! 

Song

When fire flares forth

and from the chimney, smoke

I hear the song

of the fallen oak

its fibres grey with ashen coat

it gives to us

from its glowing throat

a whisper, a breath - words of light

what song to sing on Christmas night! 

by Genevieve Krueger

Published in 1994 Chupa Rosa Calendar Diary

 

Celebrating the Poetic Gifts of Gen Krueger

For our last blog for the year 2015, we decided to revisit the poetry and life of Genevieve Krueger. Village Poets just owe her so much! Dorothy Skiles organized a “Chuparosa Writers ” evening in memory of Gen on Thursday, December 3, 2015 at her Sunland home.  The purpose of the gathering was to read some of Gen’s poetry, and some written about her, as well as share special memories and stories about Gen that have inspired poets and made them laugh... 

Below you will find a selection of poems as well as photos from the Chuparosa Writers' event by Bill Skiles. 

Dorothy Skiles talks about Gen Krueger.

Just Outside Jerusalem

Dedicated to the memory of Gen Krueger, 1929-2015, 

mentor and facilitator of the Chuparosa Writers, Tujunga, California

My hill rises with the sun,

A day’s weariness 

Envelopes me like a shroud.  

Every Thursday evening

I walk down the street 

To the writers workshop

Just outside Jerusalem.

I knock at the door, my shroud

Of weariness falls away, 

And I’m resurrected again.

For a few hours, I’m a rider 

On the wings of a poem.

by Dorothy Skiles

Rev. Dec. 3, 2015

All Rights Reserved 2015 by D. Skiles

Grandma Laureate

To honor you

I want to remember you

Your sweetness

Your uniqueness

Humble and wise

Creative and strong

Your noble Nordic spirit

Quietly expressed patience and love

Your earthy endearing heart

Warmly engaging in

conversations and smiles

Your love of literature

Your deeper love of family and friends

Steadfast and amaranthine

The embodiment of teacher and learner

An example of consistent

Positivity and optimism

Despite every challenge put before you

I love you

I miss you

I just want

To honor you

(c) 2015 by Amber

(Untitled)

Like a hole punched

Through my sturdy wall

Behind a hanging canvas

I tucked away the crater of your absence

5 days bereavement

Is American Grief

Coffee needs pouring

Stocks need selling

Minds need molding

The commute never dies

But at a red light

There is a breath

Between songs

There is a space

At the flip of a lightswitch

Blindness exists

Suddenly loss

Is here unannounced

And I don’t know

How I go

Day to Day

Yesterday your twin key

Unused on my busy ring

Slipped into my front door lock

My adult hand

Can’t turn this knob

This finite door is closed

The key now unlocks

Only your memory

Jenny Novak 12/3/15

Maja Trochimczyk reads Gen Krueger's "Color is What You Make It"

You can read more poems by Gen Krueger on our previous blog, from September 2015:

http://villagepoets.blogspot.com/2015/09/farewell-to-genevieve-krueger-and-her.html

Mira Mataric reads her poem, Hymn to Motherhood.

Hymn to Motherhood

I am watching you, my daughter,

 motherhood has shaped, rounded

and completed you as a woman.

Your eyes turned downy, soft with tenderness,

your voice croons a lullaby,

body and entire being ripened

turning your lap into a nest.

Your breast floods with the dew of life

hands ready to hold, feed, and caress.

Terms of endearment and nursery rhymes

murmuring, your ear attuned

to the child's soft cry,

that helpless call in the language

only a mother can understand,

the Morse code of intimacy,

carried through the umbilical cord

that never breaks

between a mother and her child.

With humanity,

 motherhood has connected you

and to me returned.

I am watching you, my daughter,

with love and pride,

not sure whether it is you or I,

that woman experiencing motherhood

for the first time and all over again.

That daughter we are raising now

as one woman

is that you, my child,

my discovery and masterpiece,

or a new life born in continuation

of humankind

 through the most powerful force -

 Love.

(c) by Mirjana N. Radovanov Mataric

Farewell to Genevieve Krueger and Her Life of Poetry and Books

On Saturday, September 19, 2015, family and friends of poetry gathered at McGroarty Arts Center to honor Genevieve Krueger.  There were photos, heartfelt tribute, poetry readings, and a mini-concert to celebrate the life well-lived of a poet and publisher who did so much to promote poetry in the Foothills.  Since Ms. Krueger has been so important for the Village Poets and the Poet-Laureate of Sunland-Tujunga program, we decided to honor her memory on our blog as well. 

Genevieve Krueger (1929-2015) was born in St. Paul, MN to Edwin and Marion F. Stromme. She attended Mechanic Arts High School and graduated Phi Beta Kappa from the College of St. Catherine in St. Paul with a Bachelor's of the Arts degree in Library Science and English. She married James (Jim) A. Krueger, an aeronautical engineer and pilot, and raised six children in Sunland. She was librarian at the school & church libraries and was active in the local Friends of the Library. Once the kids left home, she joined Jim on his trips for the FAA and began collecting books she'd find while Jim was working. 

Her love and her deep knowledge of books prompted her to start her own out-of-print book-finding business. With an uncanny memory, she could often reunite a customer with a favorite childhood book even when its author and title had long been forgotten, using just a description of the cover or a memory of the story. It was a fulfilling career, and the friends she made lasted a lifetime. When her beloved Jim passed away, she began pursuing her passion for writing and hosted a weekly poetry group in her home, publishing several volumes of members' poetry. She earned Congressional honors as the 2002 recipient of the McGroarty Poetry Award, which led to the foundation of the Sunland-Tujunga Poet Laureate Award. donations in her name can be made to McGroarty Arts Center, 7570 McGroarty Terrace, Tujunga, CA 91042 or http://www.mcgroartyartscenter.org.

This obituary appeared in the Los Angeles Times and was published by the Little Landers Historical Society where she was very active.  It was quite moving to see and hear all the memorial speeches and presentations, including a music performance with an Irish harp, flute and guitar, by her family members. 

I have not known Ms. Krueger very well. She attended my "Passing Off the Laurels" ceremony when I became the Sixth Poet Laureate of Sunland-Tujunga in May 2010. She was also at some of my readings, where I appreciated her warmth and the connection we established in those brief moments after the poetry brought us together.  My memorial poem was, therefore, quite short:

For Genevieve

When sunlight is laughter is poetry is home

That's when you know Genevieve

When smile is kindness and words turn bright golden

That's when Genevieve is your friends

When poets and neighbors and in-laws and nephews

come together to speak of the one with the gifts

That's when you say Farewell to Genevieve

The moving spirit of the Foothills

The firefly of music and verse

(c) 2015 by Maja Trochimczyk

As a poet, Genevieve Krueger co-founded the Chuparosa writing group that met in her home, helping poets to polish their works, and hone their talents.  The Chuparosa Poets published poetry calendars and anthologies. One notable book was entitled "Alpha Waves" and consisted of poetry, short stories and art by three women, Marlene Hitt, Genevieve Krueger and Leslie de Forrest.

Here's her poem from one of the Chuparosa Calendars:

Color is What You Make It

Somedays 

my soul is  the color of seventy six trombones tromboning

Somedays 

my soul whispers with the gray wind-scarf

hiding from the sun-painter

under mountain ledges, inside caves

Somedays

my soul does an exhibition dance, a plaid one

over-and-under weaving

yellow, and orange, and red

Somedays

my soul bursts like confetti

and sparkles the world around me

Somedays

my soul blues and purples all day

muting and shading, softening,

cooling it

Somedays

my soul rests in pregnant whiteness

waiting for whatever color I make it

(c) by Genevieve Krueger

Time

Time 

slips like mercury

uncontained

into crevices

and cracks

        "Where did the time go?"

Time 

quarters

years

into weather-sized pieces

so we know whether to wear

ski boots

or bikinis

when we wake up in the morning

Time 

with the help of the sun

splits light

and dark

into

24-all-the-same-size

slices

and numbers them

one-after-the-other

Time 

teases me

by calling a song or a movie 

or a poem

timeless

      (which either means it does not 

       exist at all, or it is eternal - 

       what do YOU think?) 

(c) by Genevieve Krueger

Nonetheless, her family picked a different poem to share with the audience of the service, one dedicated to her husband, who died before Genevieve:

Easter Moon 

~ Jim - June 1924 - April 1985

In the spring of '85 Easter moon

rose above the mission roof

in a round glow of glory

we sat together on the weathered bench

our shadows side by side

I can't wait to be free from this body he said

I want to dance, to being again

to fly on my own

to be as I was meant to be

we watched that Holy Thursday moon

that spring solstice moon

announce the coming 

the going, the waning

I want to dance with you he said

under the moon and the stars

with wings he said

with wings I said

and our hands became our feet

and our smiles sang

in the warm and silent dark

(c) March 15, 2001, by Genevieve Krueger

Photos from the Memorial Service by Maja Trochimczyk