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Professor Jenne' Rodey Andrews, M.F.A., is a highly regarded American poet, critic and memoirist. Recent work has appeared in former Autumn House Publisher Michael Simms' Vox Populi (over fifteen poems) The Passionate Transitory, Belletrist Coterie, The Adirondack Review and elsewhere.

Andrews' current ms of poetry Beautiful Dust was a finalist for the 2014 Autumn House and she recently withdrew the work from Salmon Ltd, Ireland to protest unmoderated bashing of American writers by Irish writers on the press's social media pages.

Her most recent collection, Blackbirds Dance in the Empire of Love, lauded by Robert Bly and endorsed by poets Jim Moore, Dawn Potter and Patricia Kirkpatrick, appeared from Finishing Line Press 2013. A booklength collection Beautiful Dust was 2014 finalist for the Autumn House Press Poetry Prize and solicited by Salmon Press, Ireland. Turning on work set in the West and her native Southwest the collection is under submission to 2019 publication prizes.

Andrews is currently hard at work on two new memoirs: The Shame Garden: A Woman Writes of Isolation, Despair and Self-Redemption, which in intensely wrought and imagistic prose poetry chronicles the anatomy of shame; it is the poet's late-in-life tour d'force, sending the reader through Dante's circles of hell, the sewers of Paris ala Les Mis, mano a mano confrontations with the Alien mater familias, fusing literary and vintage cinematic works in an elliptical dance with human history and experience of being Other. The poet has no idea of what will become of this work but hopes it finds a home as memoir with a small press.

A four part interview with Andrews went live at poet Maureen Doallas's blog Writing without Paper in 2010.

Other collections include the full-length Reunion, Lynx House Press, The Dark Animal of Liberty, Leaping Mountain Press, and In Pursuit of the Family, edited and published by Robert Bly and the Minnesota Writers Publishing House.

Her work has been anthologized in Heartland II, Northern Illinois University Press, 25 Minnesota Vols. I and II, Wingbone: An Anthology of Colorado Poetry, Women Poets of the Twin Cities, Oil and Water and Other Things that Don't Mix, and elsewhere.

Essays have appeared in MPR's Magazine, The Colorado Review, The Twin Falls Times News, and miscellaneous journals.

IIt is Prof. Andrews' belief that one's collection of poetry must be judged on the quality of its craft, voice, and language, not its themes.


With Mr. Bly the memoirist Patricia Hampl wrote a forward to her first collection and is considered the "mother" of the modern American memoir although she arguably shares this title with Mary Karr for Karr's The Liar's Club. Andrews mentored Karr in Minneapolis when the former was circa 19.

Professor Andrews has had an illustrious teaching career at Colorado State University and the University of Colorado where she taught prelaw students in the making of argument and the issues-oriented seminar The American West. She was the highest rated instructor in the University Writing program during her tenure at Boulder.

Currently Professor Andrews writes daily at age 70, having been rendered housebound in 2007 in a fall from a horse, at home with her lover and companion of thirty years the fiction writer Jack Brooks, ten new poems a month, and is working on an additional memoir about her pioneer roots, "Territory Fever: The Story of an Albuquerque Family," posted as chapters are finished to Loquaciously Yours where the poet has produced over 450 essays in the past decade on a variety of topics as well as book reviews. Upcoming: a review of Ethna McKiernan's new Salmon Collection.

Ms. Andrews is also a Civil Rights Advocate advocating in 2019 for the civil rights of the poet Ping Wang who recently won the AWP Award for Memoir.

In 2015, after a long battle, Andrews extracted her MFA in Creative Writing/Poetry from Colorado State University, begun and finished in the 80's, self-advocating under the Americans with Disabilities Act. In fact Andrews was instrumental in the Colorado Commission on Higher Education's approval of the MFA at CSU.

She is a literary fellow of the National Endowment for the Arts, the Minnesota Arts Board Fellowship, was short-listed for a Bush Foundation Fellowship, 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, one of the first poets to inaugurate The Loft Literary Center, co-founding Women Poets of the Twin Cities which as noted boosted the careers of Mary Karr, Ethna McKiernan and others, and spent the summer of 1973 in Reggio Calabria, Italy which gave rise to the "voluptuous prose-poetry" memoir Nightfall in Verona posted in entirety here, designated by arts maven and former friend Caroline Marshall of NPR The Writer Reads as "fabulous."

Circa 2010 Andrews also founded a poetry group on She Writes which included Dawn Potter, Katha Pollock and other noteworthy writers, and supported the work of Meg Waite Clayton, fiction writer in addition to mentoring a number of other up and coming writers.

There is no way to estimate the influence on the lives and work of the some 12,000 students k-12 she met and encouraged in the seventies, but the poet James Tolan has attributed his career to her work as it was anthologized in Heartland II, Lucien Stryk, Editor. Professor Stryk read the title poem of In Pursuit of the Family on NPR.

As noted the poet lives in northern Colorado's Poudre River Valley with her husband, fiction writer Jack Brooks; the couple's daily life is centered around writing and enjoying their beautiful imported Golden Retrievers;-- see the Ardorgold website for details. Contact: jenneandrews2010@gmail.com.

Signed copies of the Blackbirds Dance collection, endorsed by James Moore, Patricia Kirkpatrick and Dawn Potter, are available from the poet. She posts new work below and is available for mentorship and virtual readings via Skype.

She is happy to critique ms. of poetry, fiction and memoir for a small fee.

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

New Poem: for DVerse OLN

 
Where It Had Been Dark

Let all mortal flesh keep silence…

From the psalm of Habakkuk, 12:20

This is the foretelling that won
my heart
became more than a story
years ago
the one with its tiny foot
outlined by certain stars
suddenly come to the fore
on the horizon

At dusk, just above
the line of light

Where we all went on
in a fever of worry, spreading
the virus of fear
fallen, as we were made of dust

Falling like forlorn angels
through perpetual night.

That there could be a flint-struck
infant life
that it might be there in the plain
mud hut
where someone might have labored
and brought it forth

Planted itself in the fist of the heart
the fist wrought of pride

I will not will not yield
to this unordinary thing, the mind said
I will this thing not to come to pass

Take away your votive lights
close the book, let it gather dust.

And yet in the night, like some invisible
stranger knock knocking on the door
with his crook

Or the rustle of wings
or the fabric of dreams
or the impossible river
of tears down the face

The need came, as if we were blinded
and trapped in a skein of love
out on a cold plain, where
it had been dark.

It was the thought of the face
the opening within
in the impoverished rooms
of the self

That we knew we were stumbling
sliding down the rock face
into the desert and into
the bowels of war

And the high plainsong
of the cantor then
the shimmering steeple
the starving see
in delirium

The hot needle in the heart
how it rankles there
as if we had splintered an ancient
petroglyph with our very fists

As if we had wandered in the snow
with our unbowed heads
curling up against a shrine
with our brandy, in the storm

And then saw or heard something
voluble and dear
a hand, an embrace staving
its presence in the heart

So that we came back
from the edge in the dusk
for the sake of the possible
in the onslaught of silence within
the flesh.



copyright Jenne' R. Andrews 2011

17 comments:

Maureen said...

Exquisite, Jenne. So many beautiful lines, the lovely cadence, the images that shimmer. I especially like "For the sake of the possible/In the sudden silence".

Brian Miller said...

nice. i like the hope in this, that we can come back from that brink...and still have hope...well spun jenne

Anonymous said...

Just inexpressibly terrific. Really a wonderful Christmas poem. So many good parts--fist, splinter, skein of love. brandy, silence, flesh. K.

Ann Grenier said...

Yes, in spite of ourselves the spirit can move us. Another beautiful poem Jen.

I wish you a peaceful holiday and good health in the new year.

Steve King said...

You describe a great arc here, and a great journey within. I admire the vocabulary, the pace, the mythic sense of the narrative. Very nice.

Brendan said...

Great inwarding of the ancient myth of rebirth. As Emerson said, every age requires a new confession, and you take wonderful strides toward it. Best of the holiday to you. - Brendan

Anonymous said...

sorry I had not been by to return the comment, I lost my step-dad early this morning but, I saw your request so here I am. I enjoyed your piece. Thank you for sharing.

Unknown said...

Jenne'~
Your piece swept me up and carried me along, like an epic screenplay or well-written historical novel. I felt the setting, the crescendo, the conclusion, of sorts. You imparted a sense of culture and societal norms and environmental hazards, too. Multi-layered and filled with meaning, as well as excellent word choices. Nicely done.

Anonymous said...

Some wonderful imagery here. And I really enjoyed how you structured the verses.

Great work here.

Laurie Kolp said...

This is simply beautiful... every single word and vivid detail spectacular. Merry Christmas!

Victoria said...

Oh, my dear Jenne. This leaves me speechless--there are really no superlatives to describe this poem that would not sound banal.

The fact that you invited us in with the quote "Let all mortal flesh..." set the stage for a sense of mystery. Blogger's not letting me toggle back to the poem itself and I know there's more I want to comment on but I will say this deserves to be up there with other great poems on the subject.
Thank you.

Victoria said...

Jenne, I'm trying to figure out how to subscribe to your blog on wordpress rather than blogger since I never check my blogger blog. Going to try to sign out of google--maybe that will work. Hope you got my comment on the poem itself. xoVictoria

Semaphore said...

What a surprise, this is a bit of a departure for you! A more lyrical invocation, much like a Neruda ode in structure, and just as evocative. I so love your work.

Jenne' R. Andrews said...

thank you everyone-- happy holiday/merry christmas et al-- thanks for coming through-- it helps with the holiday blues for sure! xxxj

Anonymous said...

Came back to see if there was something new, and as always found something new! Same poem but so rich. Really lovely. K.

Unknown said...

playful words. wow.

Unknown said...

Greetings:

Happy Holidays.

You are quite a talent in short fiction! check out our short story slam week 17 prompt today,

Sample something new is a way to escape boredom,

Hope to see you be part of our short story slam team.

Best!

Enjoy A Blessed Winter Break.

xoxox