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, March 15, 2012

New Poem: Desire Explicated for DVerse Poets

Many thanks to Charles Miller for a tantalizing and irresistible prompt..... at Dverse Poets Pub.
 
Desire Reexplained

All my thoughts always speak to me of Love,
Yet have between themselves such difference
That while one bids me bow with mind and sense,
A second says, “Go to: look you above;”
The third one, hoping, yields me joy enough;
And with the last come tears, I scarce know whence:
All of them craving pity in sore suspense,
Trembling with fears that the heart knows of.

--from a sonnet in La Vita Nuova -  Dante

All day thoughts of you sprig like crocus,
The photo of your sleek golden body 
rising from the Scilla harbor

Like Odysseus redeemed.

You, Calabrese to the core,
Your smile and bearing
Constricting my heart,
Saw me as well in a photograph, my hair gray,
My dog gathered on my lap.

How else did you find and appear
to know me—did you plot the cartography
of my solitude?

Did you read that years ago I free-fell
into the arms of someone in that very place
who taught me the Song of the Resistance
and wept when the train bore him away
from my arms? 

You call me from Napoli;
You want to see me, to talk.
I make excuses; and where is your wife
I ask you, bronze man rising in ardor
On the horizons of time?

You say in your tongue
Lei non c'e 'or..  She is not here.
But other photos give me details
To remind me of what happens
When I set sail without compass
Or my diving gear

Into the very moon-shot waters
Where desire and myth collide:

No matter the blue joy of the dive,
I would escape with nothing but my life.

In Italian..

Che Ti Voglio Esplicitata

Tutti i miei pensieri sempre mi parli di amore,
Tuttavia hanno tra loro tale differenza
Che, mentre si piegano le offerte me con la mente e il senso,
Un secondo dice: "Vai a: cerca sopra di voi";
Il terzo, sperando, mi dà gioia a sufficienza;
E con le ultime lacrime venire, scarsa so dove:
Tutti pietà desiderio in sospeso dolente,
Tremante di paura che il cuore conosce
.
- da un sonetto a La Vita Nuova - Dante

Tutti i pensieri del giorno, come si rametto di crocus
Il tuo corpo elegante oro sale dall'acqua

Come Ulisse redento.

Tu, Calabrese fino al fin, con il quale
Sono affascinato e che mi costringe a
il rilevamento e il tuo sorriso.

Mi hai visto in una fotografia, il mio capelli grigi,
Il mio cane riuniti sulle mie ginocchia
In quale altro modo hai trovato e apparire
di conoscere me;  hai trovato un modo
per mappare la mia solitudine?

Avete letto che anni fa mi caduta
tra le braccia di qualcuno in quel luogo molto
un calabrese con gli occhi tristi
che mi ha insegnato la canzone della Resistenza
e pianse quando il treno lo portò via
dalle mie braccia?

Tu mi chiami da Napoli;
Vuoi vedere me, a parlare.
Mi scuso, e dove è tua moglie
Vi chiedo, l'uomo di bronzo in aumento in ardore
Sugli orizzonti del tempo.

Tu dici nella tua lingua
Lei non c'e 'or .. Lei non è qui.
Ma le altre foto mi danno i dettagli
Per ricordarmi di ciò che accade
Quando salpò senza bussola
O la mia attrezzatura subacquea

Nelle acque cerulee d'amore
Nei casi in cui il desiderio e il mito si scontrano.
.
Non importa la gioia azzurra dell'immersione,
fuggirebbe con nulla ma la mia vita.


xx
This poem explained:

Guarda--a certi tempi la fantasia d'amore 'e migliore che la realita… 'e certo.  Io so questo.  E quanto dovera basta avere una finestra alla amore che amore en braccio.  Perche si due facciamo amore a fuori di familia y sangue,  si accedere un terremoto di lagrime per tutti.  Non voglio essere la una qui 'e la forza di quel destino.  Un terremoto io non so e mai sarebbe ancor....  Legge mi poesia en cual ho detto lo che viva ancor nel mio cuore.  Niente mi piacerebbe che cominciare il furore di amore con ___ en una notte splendida ma… per noi questo ha il potenza di iniziare un gran sfortuna. 

Beware-- at certain times, fantasy is better than reality-- that is certain.  I know this.  And how much it should suffice to have a window on love than in one's arms.  For if two make love outside the ties of family and blood, an earthquake takes place with tears for all.  I don't want to the one to be the force of such a destiny.  I am not an earthquake... Nothing would please me more than to have a night of truly mad love with ___ , but for us this has the power to initiate great misfortune... 






cc

copyright Jenne' R. Andrews 2012

4 comments:

Brian Miller said...

it is a dangerous dance for which few rise unscathed...but it is nice to know you still peak interest you know...smiles.

manicddaily said...

No matter the blue joy of the dive! Such a great line--of course, during the dive it's pretty good--suffering afterwards! Which you well express. K.

Claudia said...

nice..loved the italian..i think italian is the most erotic language on the planet..i can imagine that it was so hard to resist the temptation.. but think it was a wise decision for sure...smiles

Charles Miller said...

Sorry to have taken so long to get to your beautiful poem Jenne. This is really powerful in numerous ways, calling us to be aware of that divide between reality, dream and imagination. This has such powerful resonance in my own life, where that desire for adventure, bronze bodies or simple oblivion from the humdrum took me into paths best left unexplored. Your prose addition clarifies exactly that fit between life and poetry where they become integrated. This is the point of the prompt, to become aware how poetry instantiates time in a seemingly eternal moment, though life moves on and must be lived instant to instant where each differs. Pulling those pieces into the work of art that is our life holds together with the integrity of other passions and desires just as important.