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 .

Saturday, July 30, 2011

New Poem for Saturday: Roy McBride In Memoriam

On July 29 the wonderful black  poet Roy McBride, so beloved by the Minnesota writing community and beyond and forefather of spoken word poetry, succumbed to a long illness.  Roy and I used to talk for hours on the tin roof of my studio in St. Paul that overlooked the Mississippi.  He was love incarnate.  There are videos made by the wonderful Mike Hazard available on You Tube.     Many thanks to Lorenzo Lapislazuli and Ruth Mowry for the combined Chagall painting and Rilke quote from A Year with Rilke.  xj 




The House with the Green Eye  - Marc Chagall



Three Little Poems
To the memory of the great Roy McBride
  
Who knows: eyes may be watching us
from all sides. Ah, only stumbling toward you
am I no longer on display. Growing into you,
I am forever set invisibly
in the darkening shelter of your heart.

Rilke, The Shelter of Your Heart,   Uncollected Poems
          
i.

Tal Vez - Maybe

Perhaps, you thought
As you lay in the dark
Encased in white plaster

You could make a beacon
Of your new body
Your iridescent shell
Could summon

An angel from the shadows
Someone prescient
Well apprised of the ordeal

It was to have been swaddled
In a blanket that turned to stone.

It is true.
You lay in the dark all in white
A bride of silence
Invisible, vestal, pure as flame
On the altar of the bed.

Voices were far away
As if the family
Had gone on 
The butter knives of their paddles
Slicing mile on mile
Down the green Rio Grande.
  
Ii
 Little Adobe

Little house you claimed my heart
With your peeling blue window frames
How you were cupped in the density
Of the autumn cottonwood trees
On Guadalupe Road.

The red hollyhocks sang of morning
The meadow larks sang back.
I was safe there
In my darkened room
Branches whispering against the glass
Comforting and half-muted voices.

This was before the Dark Time
When she was taken away
And I didn’t know
What to do with myself

Except with my small hands
To dust the stopped antique clock
With my toy broom
To sweep and sweep
The cold flagstone of the patio.

 Iii

The Unnamed

Everywhere
Are children in a plight
No one sees.
They hunger or they pine
With great eyes
From a corner
In a country so far away
We don’t know its name. 

Let us be invisible with them.
Let us join them in their meaning
Nothing to humanity
Even to those who come upon them
Too late, the wounds of their open mouths.



cc

copyright Jenne' R. Andrews
all rights reserved  jenneandrews2010@gmail.com 

3 comments:

Maureen said...

Your friend, I'm sure, would be deeply appreciative of these poems offered in his memory. I especially like "Little Adobe".

Brian Miller said...

this was sad when i saw it...as spoken word is dear to my heart...well textured...like the subtle water reference at the end of tal vez...the last on plucks the heart strings...

jen revved said...

Merci, Maureen and Brian. Sorry B forgot to link back to D'Verse-- will do so in future-- glad it's going well. xj