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 .

Thursday, July 21, 2011

Poems for Friday Poetry Fest - Rubato

Join us for Friday Poetry Fest-- Link Live Now.  





Rubato

All things are the body of the violin,
filled with murmuring darkness.
There, grieving women lie down to dream.
There the resentments of generations
surrender to sleep...Rilke
  
And I am the cello of the goodly dark.
Play me then
Night, with your bow of memory

Make me quiver
With reminiscence
Strike my taut string

With the glancing blow
Of the renegade moonlight

Sheath me in the follies
Of the braided light
Hailing from distant stars
Rondo, capriccio

Largo of Brahms
O Wood, body of wood
Body of love
And her lover
The robust
Sinfully glad night.

ii

Night, improvisation
Is thine
Thief of the ordinary
Grave-robber
With your proletariat
Of  plundering owls

It is night that makes me anew
Night that cloaks all sorrow
Out of the silver membrane of the night

We come, spending the sleek body’s 
In the surge and suckling
Of the tide,
in a mating display 

Of fanning golden feathers
In the midnight ardor 
of the swordfish.




*When the word rubato appears in a musical score it means steal—as in take a little liberty with the score here.

Bonus Poem --




Treachery

how did this come to pass
bird with a shattered wing
foal with a club foot

that which enters the world
with something wrong.

Who laced the cell with toxins
who murdered the wheat
so that it goes to dust
carried away by the blackguard wind.

Who has defamed us
so that we are afraid to live
and cloister ourselves by day?

Who is the perpetrator
the thief of good will
the prosecutor without a case

Who made of me an indigent 
barren, alone, alone
Who tightens the noose of trembling stars
Around the shimmering earth?


cc

copyright Jenne' R. Andrews 2011
email permission requests: jenneandrews2010@gmail.com 

9 comments:

Maureen said...

"your proletariat / Of plundering owls" and "silver membrane of the night" are two standouts in your lyrical first poem, which contrasts a lot with the one that follows, the latter so different in tone and feeling, though well-realized, given its subject.

Zoe said...

They both pulled at my soul. I love the starkness of
Who laced the cell with toxins
who murdered the wheat
so that it goes to dust
carried away by the blackguard wind.

and also
With the glancing blow
Of the renegade moonlight
I think you captured the dark side of nighttime beautifully. Thank you for yet another soul feast!

Mystic_Mom said...

I was entranced with your poetry, and then I was totally enthralled with the bonus poem! Brava!

Ruth said...

I do love the image of woman as cello (or guitar, or violin). Your poem takes me back into that dark hollow where Rilke's did. Lovely work.

Timoteo said...

Two amazing poems for the price of one...and I didn't even need a coupon!

Mark Kerstetter said...

Both poems are beautiful. I especially like Treachery. Sometimes all one can do is ask why.

Maureen said...

J, thank you for the invitation to join the new meme today. I usually don't have a poem on Friday but earlier today I wrote a sestina and so added the link to that.
I'll do my best to make the rounds. I'm in the middle of some writing just now. Thanks again.

jen revved said...

Thanks to each of you who commented-- sorry I'm being a pill about the new meme, not mine-- the other one, but I have deep convictions about it all... hope you'll each come back. xxxj

Sean Vessey said...

Thank you for this meme and your poems. I found both enticing. Rubato is sensual while treachery is bleak darkness. thank you again.