Roger Gerberding

Rodger Gerberding has published widely as a writer, in Tales of the Unanticipated, Tekeli-Li!, The Scream Factory, The Chicago Reader, The Rockford Review, Poetry and elsewhere. His art is in numerous private and corporate collections, and he has illustrated some seventy books to date in a variety of genres, garnering a variety of awards. His work is currently represented by the Noyes Gallery of Lincoln, NE. He has also acted professionally on stage, television and in independent films. He is well-wed to the beauteous Kathleen Jurgens, herself a writer/editor of note.

Books by Roger Gerberding for the Backwaters Press

Come Now

Author: Roger Gerberding
Format: Paperback, 122 pages
ISBN: 978-1-935218-34-0
Published: September 2014

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Critical Praise for Come Now

In Come Now, Rodger Gerberding reminds us of just how necessary the modernist’s dogged desire to employ everything in the world: philosophies, myths, ideologies, art, snippets of conversation, jokes, the detritus of popular culture, to lyric effect has been for denizens of the so-called information age. These poems reflect a probing intellect and an emotional candor that position Gerberding as a poet who is utterly convinced by the urgent need for poetry in our contemporary world, and one who sets out to remind us of the beauty that is produced when a gifted writer practices what he believes.

– Kwame Dawes, author of Duppy Conqueror: New and Selected Poems

Rodger Gerberding’s work is elegant, at least in the style of its execution; but it is also twisted and full of pain.

– Poppy Z. Brite, writer

Of his early work, the late James Dickey wrote, in a letter, “Your poems have in them the immanence of violent grace, under the surface always but emerging in the stray line fixing the image always in two places at least, light and dark. I like it much that you allow the reader to decide a poem’s overflow”.

…(Gerberding’s) work has the strangeness and pull of a pulsar; what’s heard is quite as important as what’s intuited. Reading (him) is the equivalent of “seeing” radio waves coursing through and sounding someone’s yard suspiciously similar to one’s own but somehow unexperienced, and somehow always just out of reach. And tantalizingly so…

– James Dickey, Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress, National Book Award Winner

Excerpts from “The Drunken Master”

In the reaches of the night,      XV:
Likened to county road
X tending fear, tear
Ing the thin therapist’s
Paper report into eleven
Ses, he burned his read
Y & chapped lips on oolong
Tea. He saw the kids he
Might have had, had he
Not been master of the
Key, the hanger, inch
Ing into wombs, the thin
Nest phallus, the rap
ist of everything asia
Tic sweet. He was not
Drunk at time like
This, like blinking
Shipboard lights of warn
Ing in storm. I have (al
Ways) been a storm; he
Spoke to glass reflect
Ing his thinness. To dis
Sipate; to be disappear
Ed in Chicago Windows,
Walking with him every day.      COLUMN Y:

Corollary of sorts: If                       XXVI:
He had been falsest in
His drunkest squalor, how
Then had he not been true?
He had mastery, had all
The woodlands frighted,
Squelching through them
In his last costume of
Mud & branch, stones
Heaved into his packed bod
Y by the townspeople with
Their guttering torch-
Es, flames, as t’were a
Fraid of him the most. His own
Great deep fear was to
Walk unrecognized through
The hive; he worked like a
Lineman to be seen above
Every tree. Invisible for
Ever, however, his blue
Hat filled with glitter
Rocks, he tossed out sev
Eral next-to-last words.
Appeal to me, groundlings,
We are all so sad together.           cOLUMN Z:

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