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, September 6, 2011

New Poem: Of Orpheus and Forms ...

Of Orpheus, and Forms

(It was she… The one so loved, that from a single lyre
more lament came forth than from centuries' sorrows.
So loved that a world took form from that lament
where everything came to be once more:
path and village, forest and valley, field, river, animal.

“  New Poems”—Rilke writing of Orpheus and Eurydice.

Indeed worlds take form from our tears.
Tears shed over that which the heart
Does not wish to see—
The felled bull elk, the hunter triumphant
What is left of the dove
When only her breast is taken.

So are we forced and compelled 
To feed upon the many forms of our making
Irrefutable language,
Famine, the infants pushing death away
With hands small as leaves

The small blue eggs from splintered nests
Cracked open in the loam
The gusts of violation that batter
Our own unfurling innocence—

But I saw tonight a man stop
On the highway
Calling to a small, terrified dog
And later, a film of a woman diver

Gently pulled down
Into deep water by a great whale
That she touched its eyelid
So that it surged up with her

To the surface
as if this great form of being
sensed her need for oxygen

And then love and hope were born
Again within me and in that
Dissipating void between anger
And despair,  I thought Orpheus

You do not sing in vain—I  see you
With my heart, I hear your
Spent and lonely voice.

Posting for DVerse Poetry Pub Open Link Night-- join in-- this is the latest in my series of meditative poems written in response to the postings on the beautiful blog A Year with Rilke.  

copyright Jenne' Andrews 2011


Maureen said...

The voice amid wreckage. Truly a lovely poem, Jenne.

Beachanny said...

A poem I responded to with my heart, Jenne. The depths plunged to swim and touch the genius of a whale, the rescue of the spirit by the sight of a man with a dog tells me that in you and your poetry is the spirit of hope the survivor, and that you and your poetry shall triumph as is meant to happen. Beautiful write my dear.

Ann Grenier said...

Beautiful poetry, Jenne. Your line, "Tears shed over that which the heart does not wish to see.", is very familiar and resonates with me.

colleen said...

Of mythical proportions. I love the appearance of the whale and the resolution!

Mark Kerstetter said...

So beautiful, the tiny things sprinkled throughout: the leftover dove, hands small as leaves, birds' eggs, a shivering dog....

I thought of the Bruce Springsteen song 'Reason to Believe': "at the end of every hard-earned day people find some reason to believe".

robkistner said...

A piece well written, engaging – good work… mine is here: http://www.image-verse.com/clown

flaubert said...

Jenne, so much of this poem resonates with me. Absolutely gorgeous writing. Do you remember when Poets United picked your poem for poem of the week? It was me who selected it. I love your writing. I have been so busy lately. I must make a point to visit more often.


Leslie said...

this is so very lovely, and hopeful. and we all need to hope... thank you.

Timoteo said...

Truly poignant, from one who obviously feels deeply.

Did you know that a juvenile male dolphin will attempt to mate with a human female diver--and that they can always tell the women from the men?

Don't know how that relates, but this made me think of it.

Kim Nelson said...

This piece forces the reader to look in the mirror, to face reality and consequence. Well done.

Reflections said...

Love the feel of hope carried throughout your piece. Wonderful imagery.

Thank you also for your constructive crit over at my place. Very enlightening.

Claudia said...

beautiful jenne...i'm a huge Rilke fan and i like how you go from his into your own words. beautiful details with the small blue eggs from splintered nests being my fav...also like the stanza with the man stopping on the highway..intriguing scene and the not singing in vain a perfect closure