In Memoriam: John Arndt
SoFloPoJo Associate Editor
SoFloPoJo Associate Editor
John Arndt was, in all respects, a Renaissance Man. Born to a brick mason in Pipestone, Minnesota, John was his high school's star football player, who later earned a degree in Theater, becoming a playwright and actor, who both studied and drank with, Tennessee Williams. Johnny was also a poker player (whose poker buddies included Bruce Willis,) a sheet-rock schlepper in Portland, MN., a closet installer in N.Y.C., and, my best friend for over half my life.
When Ulysses S. Grant was asked about his friendship with George Tecumseh Sherman, Grant replied, we are friends - I stand by him when he's crazy, he stands by me when I'm drunk. Few friendships have compasses so reliable, they locate and maintain such stable ground. Ours did; and for that, I shall be forever grateful and blessed.
-Stacie M. Kiner
When Ulysses S. Grant was asked about his friendship with George Tecumseh Sherman, Grant replied, we are friends - I stand by him when he's crazy, he stands by me when I'm drunk. Few friendships have compasses so reliable, they locate and maintain such stable ground. Ours did; and for that, I shall be forever grateful and blessed.
-Stacie M. Kiner
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The Speed of Light by John Arndt I clutch at you like precious bits of tender Gems fallen into hand by chance Caught on the sleeve of happenstance To lose you all at once and forever by simple neglect In that push through the crippled bones of disappointment Everything moves on, into distance and gone You remain apart to fill slack and tattered sails Gust of laughter, whisper of touch, full blown gale of comprehension Years pass, moments collide, collect in the shadows Fester and evolve into monstrous knowledge Barbed sorrow travels lifetimes, into decadence Deeper into the drunken darkness of failure Further still to the dregs of what will never be You will find me there, in that gloom With a bottle and a dream Crying out for what can not be given Holding on to the thing that was taken Waiting for light that moves too slow John Arndt has performed in over 75 theatrical productions from Minnesota to Florida with stops in Maine, New York and Pennsylvania. He served five years with the Jean Cocteau Repertory in NYC, served out the full five due to some very bad behavior but got to work with Tennessee Williams. His first play Antiquities was produced there in 1984. Screen credits include sundry commercial fare and his big screen debut in The Return of the Alien’s Deadly Spawn. He’s long dead before the opening title sequence but there’s a lot of blood. His plays have been produced from FL to PA. The Palm Beach Repertory Theater came to life in 2000 where Arndt played the role of Artistic Director, Resident Playwright and Technical Director. It only lasted one short year but it was glorious. He has hosted the Beach Road Poetry Workshop since the mid 1990’s and has been working on the combination to the poetry vault ever since. He was selected for the Approved Artist Roster of the Kennedy Center in DC for his one man poetic Bio entitled Gleaning Laughter, Gleaning Light. Arndt’s poetry has been published throughout the country in small presses and dive bars. As for the rest of it, Tennessee said it best. . . ”I keep writing, sometimes I’m pleased.” |
In His Own Words from Interview With A Poet
1 How would your poems be different if you were the opposite sex? They’d be much prettier with longer hair and about ten pounds lighter. Actually they could use a touch of the feminine because I tend to lay on the testosterone and as for those ten pounds there are a lot of “and”s and “the”s the workshop is always trying to trim. 2 Have you ever cried during or after writing a poem? Would you explain? Hell, I quite often cry at the thought of my poetry. Mostly I cry or have some other profound emotional outpouring at the experience of the poem, I mean that’s usually where the poem comes from. For me poetry is about 99 percent emotion, otherwise why bother! But yes, I have cried in the writing, after the writing and in the performance. Perhaps It’s that feminine thing trying to break through. 3. Your psychologist says your poems are: A post Freudian response to Pre Jungian impulses possibly created by bi polar ice caps that developed in my non verbal animal brain which are now melting due to global warming. If you ask me, they are a cry for help, a cry for home, a cry for love and understanding but the shrink just say’s I’m crazy. 4. Your new poem is about a circus. Which character takes center ring? A. Clown B. Elephant C. Lion Tamer D. Ring Master E. Other: please tell us which and why: Most definitely the Ring Master, whom, of course, has control of all the other elements of the show. I may give focus but I’m never upstaged. 5. You have options: Go back in time to hear your favorite dead poet read (who? and what is she or he reading?), Go back in time to hear Abraham Lincoln recite his Gettysburg Address, or Go back in time and visit with a relative whom you’ve never got to know. No contest. Walt Whitman. I’ve already done this stuff, I’ve already imagined walking with him through the corridors of those Civil War hospitals. Stood with him on the span of the Brooklyn Bridge looking south to lower Manhattan, across to the Narrows inhaling what he saw and must have felt, all the while those magnificent words beating inside of me. . . A foot and light-hearted I take to the open road Healthy, free, the world before me, The long brown path before me. leading wherever I choose. Henceforth I ask not good fortune—I myself am good fortune. Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing Done with indoor complaints, libraries and querulous criticisms Strong and content I travel the open road. |