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, August 30, 2011

New Poem: And So Do the Bones..Rilke Variation..for DVerse Open Link Night

To participate in this worthy meme, go to DVerse Poets Pub...

And So Do the Bones Comprehend

If the bones know more than the flesh because they are covered over,
a body moves with its writs of gratitude once death is bypassed again. 

Floyce Alexander

When will the blade
pierce this iron sheath,
the undeserved and liberating blade
that will fetch me from my hiding place
where I've been so long compressed—

so that, at last, I may stretch my limbs
and hear my full voice.

The Knight
Book of Images, Rilke

And so then late summer’s proclamation
of gratitude
The piercing of the will’s iron sheath
Life pouring forth and singing still
Into the early autumn

Even with the coming of the death of light
The re-emerging branches like the arms
of the exulting in a milky sea of paling air.
Of course we are compassed to the turning year
And yet, mind burning in its bony housing

In a truancy of will, alienated from matter,
the long and parched grasses
The temporal blackbirds in the decaying willow
Unable not to discern how and when
they fall, we step back

Into the manifold distractions of morning.  But there is
Another writ, that one that says live consciously here
In the moment, it is all we have, this cloak of flesh:
We too may scent the wind for coming storm
Provision ourselves, slapping down the great sack
Of apples for winter

Celebratory in the animal nature, the deep
Way of living. We hold ourselves
Apart and yet we bud and bloom and turn
To striated scarlet, break from the twig
And cascade in thanksgiving 
to the darkening earth.


Maureen said...

A line I especially like: "... mind burning in its bony housing // In a truancy of will". Deeply evocative and thought-provoking.

I also like the contrast between the lyric, gentle "We too may scent the wind" with "slapping down the great sack / Of apples". It keeps us attentive.

C Rose said...

A cry for our truth of a acceptance in our absolute symbiosis with all things. Enjoyed your expression ~ Rose

Pat Hatt said...

"alienated from matter" great line, very nice write!

Kim Nelson said...

Ah, yes, Jen...
in the moment
then into the earth
ashes to ashes
followed by a new birth

Jannie Funster said...

I'll cascade in thanksgiving if the last knife comes in my sleep and I do not feel it. :0

The death of light and falling willows, I wonder if I shall ever witness. maybe. But not at this moment, and that's all that matters to me. :)

Such a wonderful write! so many diverse words woven into new tapestries ot thought. wonderful to witness where your heart and mind got to.

Natasha said...

Celebratory in the animal nature, the deep way of living...this alone, for me, speaks volumes! Let my mind run!

Timoteo said...

How wistful I feel upon reading this...the changing of the seasons, and the best poetry can do that.

Ann LeFlore said...

Thank you so much for sharing on dverse I so enjoyed this poem

Rosemary Nissen-Wade said...

This poem invites re-reading and keeps getting better each time!

Claudia said...

ah now you had me with Rilke...and ...cascade in thanksgiving
to the darkening earth....wow..what an image..

Anonymous said...

"In the moment, it is all we have, this cloak of flesh" This image really moved me. Wonderful work, Jenne.

Dawn Potter said...

So much music in these lines.

Sheila Moore said...

oh, yes we do. My bones are intuned to the seasons as well "SAD" but true ;)

jen revved said...

Thanks to each of you-- heartening-- esp thanks Sheila, Maureen, Dawn! xj

signed...bkm said...

yet we bud and bloom and turn
To striated scarlet, break from the twig

lovely to think we are such a part of this world call the natural ...very nice..thank you..bkm