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, December 3, 2011

New Poem: DVerse-- Decoration/Figurative Language


Like the Unpaired Hawk

Day comes to me with her gifts.
Grass rinsed from the night’s laving
The audacious dark branching of the old trees
On November sky.

But I hand her back her poker chip moon
visible even at the zenith.
I am worn down
From bearing myself through the world
Like a split canoe, through impenetrable
undergrowth

As if I knew where water was
To put in, and then strive to reach
The encampment where there is abundant
jubilation
Around eternity’s lilac-tongued
campfire.
.
In truth I am parched, starving
But I will not drink.
What is the malaise?
It is the keeping of the self from life
Beneath the weighted coverlets of shame

Tasting ardor at the lip of the window
The great draught of it waiting
like morning light
to pour unfiltered nectar down
my throat.



 cc
copyright Jenne' R. Andrews 2011

7 comments:

Claudia said...

great imagery as we're used from you jenne...loved the unfiltered nectar and the split canoe and my fav i think is eternity's lilac-tongues campfire..

Maureen said...

The lyricism underscores the poem's sadness and longing. Some memorable images: "Grass rinsed from the night's laving", "poker chip moon", "The encampment where there is abundant jubilation/ Around eternity's lilac-tongued campfire".

Namaste.

Shawna said...

I especially like the first stanza:

"Day comes to me with her gifts.
Grass rinsed from the night’s laving
The audacious dark branching of the old trees
On November sky."

Heaven said...

I like eternity's lilic-tongued and taste of ardor, unfiltered nectar down my throat ~

The taste of life, without shame or regret...I drink to that ~

zongrik said...

nice mataphonrs

Beachanny said...

The title plays into the fresh metaphors sprinkled throughout . The entire last stanza offering the nourishment of hope to the famished longing of the middle verses. Everything so concise and eloquently expressed in your inimitable voice.

Beachanny said...

The title plays into the fresh metaphors sprinkled throughout . The entire last stanza offering the nourishment of hope to the famished longing of the middle verses. Everything so concise and eloquently expressed in your inimitable voice.