WELCOME! BENVENUTI!

Jenne' Andrews is an American poet. She has three published chapbooks including the recent Blackbirds Dance in the Empire of Love, Finishing Line Press 2013.

A full-length collection, Reunion, Lynx House Press, was published in 1983; after a long hiatus to raise Golden Retrievers in Colorado, recent work has appeared in The Passionate Transitory, Belletrist Coterie, The Adirondack Review and Vox Populi, a journal of culture, politics and poetry published and edited by the august Michael Simms.

A bilingual collection of "Italiana," Bocca, Voce, Delirio, with translations by Lorenzo Luciani, will be released by Finishing Line at the end of 2016 and her latest collection, And Now, the Road, a finalist for the Autumn House prize in 2014, will be released by Salmon Poetry Ltd, Ireland, a highly regarded international house, Jessie Lendennie, Publisher, circa 2017.

Andrews holds the MFA in Creative Writing/Poetry from Colorado State University, is a literary fellow of the National Endowment for the Arts, and was full-time Poet in Residence for the St. Paul Schools from '74-78. She lived in St. Paul from 1971-78 during the first wave of the Twin Cities literary renaissance, and spent the summer of 1973 in Reggio Calabria, Italy.

The poet lives in northern Colorado's Poudre River Valley with her husband, fiction writer Jack Brooks; the couple has recently imported two British Golden Retrievers and expects a litter in June-- see the Ardorgold website for details. Contact: jenneandrews2010@gmail.com .

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Monday Poem for the Memes/ Magpie Tales/One Shot

For Magpie Tales & One Shot -- see the photo leading to this poem here.  I also have a spanking new erotic poem up at A Tu Placer, and a brand new review of Erica Jong's anthology launching next week, Sugar in My Bowl, up at Loquaciously Yours.  My memoir is online in full, with some great feedback-- Nightfall in Verona.  


One Eye, Two

What holds a glass eye in place.
How taut the socket
And no fine tendon, no solder.

How then does the world seem
One eye fixed, the other at large
Just as today looking at mares
Through binoculars

My right eye blurred the field
To a Monet plein air– green smudges,
darting motes of light.

The other eye seemed to understand
Magnification and looked steadily out
As the mares moved among themselves
One foal flat out on the grass
Another wobbling up to drink--

The reliable eye fed the dozing herd
To the musing brain
That then said
A statuary of beasts.

One good eye
Makes the road straight and narrow
The other saves up sapphires
And diamonds, salting old unwept
Tears.

One eye, two.  The green field
Flaring up.  Oh if I could not see
What I love—the blue contour
Of the foothills, or the republic

Of geese rehearsing the migratory
Surge, the wing stretch
The eager pitch of neck and head,
Black goggles for flight

Or the iris opening now, unfurling
Silver and blue conundra,some petals
Upright, some downcast

Like the ears of field spaniels, and swallow-tailed
Dragonflies, dipping and wanting.

My  blue glass eye
winces
With impunity
When the heart gives itself
To a hitchhiker from Juarez.

It looks out with an owl’s night vision
At the oncoming Other
Warding him off
Contrary, unflinching--

This is my misbegotten Picasso eye,
Sliding down my face
Mutinous, obdurate,
Fixed agate orb  counting stars.



c
copyright 2011 Jenne' R. andrews


8 comments:

Terresa said...

"My blue glass eye
winces
With impunity
When the heart gives itself
To a hitchhiker from Juarez."

That stanza alone could be its own poem. Great take on the Magpie prompt.

Pat Hatt said...

Pretending to see
Most are blocked by a tree
But clarity comes at some point
No matter how much some one keeps their nose out of joint
Each part could have been a poem in and of itself
Great write here at your shelf

jabblog said...

This is made to be read aloud - and I did. It flows beautifully and the references are so apt.

Brendan said...

As usual, you rock ... The skewed vision of the glass eye is given its spiritual inside here, which is to see beyond seeing, or beyond stereotypy -- a woundedness in one world but a gift in this other. Great job. - Brendan

Tumblewords: said...

Intriguing piece!

HyperCRYPTICal said...

What a fine piece of writing - excellent.

Anna :o]

Tess Kincaid said...

Of course "Picasso Eye" reached out and grabbed me, since I just wrote a poem on it. Excellent write, Jen.

jen revved said...

Thank you, Tumblewords, HyperCryptical et al-- perhaps, Tess I should have called this "Picasso Eye"-- synchronicity? ! xxxj