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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 28, 2012

New Poem: Not Only This House, for Dverse Poets OLN....


Not Only This House

Only what is within you is near; all else is far.
And this within: so packed and pressured,
barely contained, unsayable.   Rilke

There is not only an inward house of darkness,
an emptied shell of yearning in us,

but too, a house of light, where the voices
exulting in Bach effect the heart’s winging

away, a pressing on.  It is true that there is a rain
of years in the hands, but taste this rich dark coffee,

hold the sure and palpable cup to the mouth,
see how this small gesture verifies the succor

of day: how the living moment pierces
and enters the somnolent mind. See that love

looks up then from unexpected places,
deep in the eyes of the One unsure of herself

and yet joy incarnate.  See that although
we strap on grief’s armor, we rise to greet

the thin line of daylight over the eternal
trees surrendering now to the frost,

boughs heavy and damp with autumn,
glowing and gilded, letting go now,

making their magisterial way through us,
releasing their dark birds and tethers.


copyright Jenne' R. Andrews 2012

8 comments:

Maureen said...

This is lovely, Jenne; it beautifully responds to Rilke's words. Implicit in the poem is a strong sense of meaning found in moments, and simple gestures, and also a triumph of hope even amidst grief and loss. The contrast of "house of darkness" and "house of light" is rendered so lyrically, it is moving.

Susan Daniels said...

This is stunningly beautiful--love the rain in the palms.

Louise said...

Beautiful poetry..there is always light in the dark through the trees if we look :)

Claudia said...

we rise to greet
the thin line of daylight ..for me, there's much hope in this..also much freedom in letting go..

chromapoesy.com said...

Your lyric sensibilities shine gorgeously here. I enjoyed this very much.

Rosemary Nissen-Wade said...

A gorgeous poem.

Brian Miller said...

there are two wolves inside us...which will we feed...i like that the light or joy can break in...even when we strap on that armor of darkness...

mrs mediocrity said...

yes, this is life, light and dark, we move through both and find ourselves whole again and again.