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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.

Sunday, May 1, 2011

For One Shoot Sunday

Please scroll down for One Shot Post.



Photo:  the practice of Sutee.

Indictment

To the memory of k.v.

Diasporic flame on flame, she rose from the floating pyre
Flying up like a black swan with a mouthful of embers.

She had danced with the heavenly hosts of the long euphoric
knives; she put the child to bed in the Armageddon of

Afternoon. She lay in the red tide with him, her hands gutted
Fish, the wrist of the child awash, the bleached small body.

What did you see then, looking within- thou demi-god,  in
the neon tunic, the beads of luck and love, lifting your heel

On the starting line like a runner in the Olympiad.  You,
Wavering like a neon Vacancy sign on a back highway.  O Gran Prix

Bearer, o puer aeternis, exonerated, absolved, shattering away
like a porcelain plate to the mausoleums of the infamous

You did not see. Had your will already failed?  Were you wearing
the quotidian’s day-blinding mask of the accolade? 

You left her alone in the house with the boy.



To see the beautiful photo leading to this piece, please visit One Shoot Sunday at One Stop Poetry.  

At a Village Well in Arabia

I do not know that one traversing the sand toward me, toiling against the wind, weighed down by robes of fear. I do not know that one watching me. 

But we meet at the well in the détentes of thirst..  Man, woman, friend or foe.  I will not trespass my way through your pride; I will not break the door of your village down.  Nor the door of your heart, even as the heat-waves of your rage force me back. 

I only see that we are swaddled, to hide our wounds.  We say it is commanded or God’s will or that in the garden we saw that we were naked.  But our skin was burning there in the sand; we lay dessicated, crawled to the oasis, attiring ourselves. 

Take my flask.  Take what I have and I will pass through you and you through me.  Only then will we have the knowing beyond language, as if war had folded up like a scarf of shadows, the moon singing on her threshold within us.










O Ada

copyright Jenne' R. Andrews 2011 


8 comments:

Fireblossom said...

You've hit on the truth of it here, Jen. That knowing that lives somewhere well beyond jingoism or zealotry.

dustus said...

Jenne', your poem displays a deep human level among layers—hinting at that "knowing language beyond" through which poetic minds, artists, strive. However, there might be another "reach" at work here; perhaps the outreach of humanity, "Take my flask. Take what I have and I will pass through you and you through me." Such humble offerings strip pride to the core of being, in addition to fostering interconnectedness.

Jenne' R. Andrews said...

thanks Adam and FB-- will make my way to you over today's desert of no sleep. xxxj

John (@bookdreamer) said...

Interesting exploration of the emotions and situation of the picture

Beachanny said...

These lines are genius: Take what I have and I will pass through you and you through me. Only then will we have the knowing beyond language, as if war had folded up like a scarf of shadows, the moon singing on her threshold within us.

I heard echoes of the wasteland but your work is not distant, but rich, close, personal, blood of blood,suffering in suffering. Excellent!
Gay

Fireblossom said...

Re: the second poem...

This sounds like the ultimate crime of omission, to me. I can almost see him, spreading his arms, saying how could I have known?

hedgewitch said...

"But we meet at the well in the detentes of thirst.." what a lyrical/insightful way to put it, as well as the war "folding up like a scarf of shadows.." You reveal quite clearly how desperately we try to make death consecrate the lust for revenge, and how each must learn to turn his back on that easy answer.

Reflections said...

Stunning, vivid imagery... such depth beyond the words... encroaching on the insights of humanity and war. Beautifully shared.