Heidi Schneider was a poetic prodigy. At age 11 she presented me with a draft of her first poem, scrawled in pencil on a scrap of paper. I was astounded by its transcendent quality, the felicity of its expression, and the majestic cadences and rhythms of its language. I instantly knew it was a work of genius, and, like all of Heidi’s poetry, it is an authentic and compelling representation of her state of consciousness at the instant of its creation. Astonished by Heidi’s dedication and passion for turning out a succession of poems of extraordinary power and insight, I finally asked her, “Why do you write poetry?” “Because I can’t not write poetry,” she replied. That, of course, is the very best answer there is.
Heidi’s poetry encompasses the full range of her experiences and emotions, from spiritual transcendence, unconditional love, and sublime acceptance, to scathing condemnation, incendiary rage, and the deepest despair. Her poetry is always heartfelt and much of it is as raw and direct as a punch to the solar plexus. Heidi does not mince words, and she is utterly devoid of literary pretension. She strings together dazzling declarations, incisive observations, and vibrant imagery with cringeworthy clichés and stock phrases. Her wry, sarcastic sense of humor is both charming and disarming. She is a master of stream of consciousness worthy of comparison with James Joyce. Almost anyone can recite their random thoughts at a poetry slam, as Heidi occasionally did, but few can carry it off with such effortless dexterity. One can only marvel at the depth, innate poetic structure, and timeless significance of her seemingly offhanded observations.
Heidi’s prodigious powers of physical description are another key element of her unique poetic style. She creates vivid and memorable images in the reader’s mind with a few deft verbal brush strokes, much as an artist creates a gesture drawing that captures the essence of a living subject in a few spare lines. Her exceptional kaleidoscopic imagery is often breathtaking, but it is rendered in the service of a higher aim--expressing and conveying her life experiences, her emotions, and her state of being in the world with fierce affirmation, even in the face of despair. Any poet who can articulate all these elements, and employ them so masterfully to engage the hearts, minds, and spirits of her readers, is surely a gifted artist worthy of widespread attention and acclaim.
In many ways, the essence of Heidi Schneider is reflected in the title of this book, I Am Here But I Am Not, the first line of one of her last poems, composed about two months before her tragic death from colon cancer on 10 August 2020. Some who knew her intimately describe Heidi as a reluctant soul who incarnated with great trepidation and was never truly at home in this cruelly imperfect world. Nevertheless, over the course of her 34 short years on earth she served ably as a caretaker and a registered nurse, gave birth to two beautiful sons, and lived a full life, all while simultaneously dwelling in the timeless realm of the absolute eternal. For Heidi the veil between these two worlds was always very thin, and that tension is indelibly captured in her remarkable poetry, which has the unmistakable ring of truth and captures both the visceral and the ethereal in a mesmerizing amalgam few other poets can match.
This book commemorates the life and creative work of our precious daughter Heidi Schneider, but it is also a window into her exalted consciousness and the extraordinary poetic gifts that constitute her priceless bequest to the world. I hope that reading it brings you the joy of entering the inner dimensions of a truly remarkable human being, one who sadly had to leave us far too soon.
Sic transit gloria mundi. Jason Schneider