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Welcome! Please scroll down for latest post below my bio, and feel free to browse through the site’s pages which feature book reviews, samples of fiction and miscellany.  Loquaciously Yours was established in 2010.  Since then, a quarter of a million hits and counting!  Many thanks to my readers.

Bio- Short Version

Jenne’ Rodey Andrews is a lyric poet with roots in the American West and Southwest, self-publishing a pamphlet of poetry at 16, professionally publishing her first poem in The Colorado Review in 1969 under the guest editorship of Canadian force of nature the poet Thomas Ethan Wayman, Built to Take It, Lynx House Press 2015. Her current life and work are informed by the fact that she is at 69, the matriarch of a nexus of pioneer families who settled in territorial Albuquerque after the Civil War. She bears as her first name the surname name of her great-grandmother Naomi Ruth Jenne, descendent of one John Jenne, a Dutch brewer who sailed to Plymouth Rock aboard the Little Anne, and the middle name of her great-grandfather, Bernard Shandon Rodey, an influential visionary who emigrated from County Mayo, Ireland to New Mexico Territory in the final years of the nineteenth century whose achievements include founding the University of New Mexico.

The poet lived in Albuquerque until she was twelve, notably in a picturesque post-war adobe, cloistered for long hours with her mother, brilliant and self-destructive New Mexico artist & playwrite Helen Stamm Andrews nee Helen Jenne’ Stamm, relying on her lively imagination & the comforting lyrics of the poetry in A Child’s Garden of Verse, Robert Louis Stevenson, to populate a rich inner life. She counts among her encouragers, her father, mother, brother and indomitable aunt Winifred Stamm Reiter, journalist and anthropologist who was all things to a 30’s magazine called Digs about the Anasazi excavations at Chaco Canyon, NM. With others the poet believes that American anthropologists have been unfairly discredited by tribes who woke up to their cultural pasts beginning in the 70’s, demanding return of their artifacts that had been lovingly and carefully preserved by those highly trained graduate students who under the direction of such luminaries as Clyde Kluckhohn,  excavated the entire tribal ruin and who revered them.

About the Work

Andrews’ poetry, copiously published in the 70’s and 80’s, with a reappearance in signature journals in the ‘tweens of the 2000’s,  is noted for its indelible lyricism,  faceted brilliance of language and imagery, and thematically speaking,  an impassioned vision for both the richly storied identity born of her southwestern pioneer roots and on the other, transfiguration through a “melding” with the Other and identification with the “passionate transitory” of the natural world.   Her influences include  the American Confessional School, the work of Theodore Roethke, Tess Gallagher, D.H. Lawrence, William Butler Yeats, Walt Whitman and the finally honed early poems of Adrienne Rich.

Her published works include five collections, the first, In Pursuit of the Family a modest volume published by her mentor Robert Bly and the Minnesota Writers Publishing House. Reunion, Lynx House Press, Christopher Howell, Editor, appeared in 1983.  Her most recent collection is  Blackbirds Dance in the Empire of Love, an expanded chapbook issued by Finishing Line Press  with commentary by literary luminaries Dawn Potter, Jim Moore, and Patricia Kirkpatrick, and cover art by the brilliant mixed media artist Jonathan Sokol. Copies of this collection may be ordered signed from the poet; see contact info in the sidebar.

 

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On the boards: the dual-language collection Bocca, Voce, Delirio/Mouth, Voice, Delirium – Poems of Italia & Amore with consiglieri Prof. Enzo Castel di Lama and the brilliant Italian poetess R. Alba della Sora.  See About the Blogger for more details.

http://boccavocedelirio.blogspot.com

Of especial interest and great meaning to the poet, in 2019,  a book-length collection of poetry, The Dominion of the Afflicted, including many of the Vox Populi poems, will be published by the preeminent  international house Salmon Poetry Ltd, Knockeven, the Cliffs of Moher, County Clare, Ireland, Jessie Lendennie, Editor and Publisher. 

Andrews earned three degrees at Colorado State University, culminating in the Masters of Fine Arts Degree in Creative Writing/Poetry, the equivalent of the Ph.D.; she is a Fellow of the National Endowment for the Arts in Literature.   Autumn House Press founder Michael Simms considers Andrews’ work significant for the strength of its voice and mastery of craft. Indeed, recent kudos include becoming a finalist in the 2014 Autumn House Poetry Prize Contest and to have circa twenty poems appear in Vox Populi, Professor Simm’s content-rich visionary online ‘zine of poetry and politics betweem 2016-17. These may be accessed via typing her name into the Vox search box. A sample poem follows.

The Bird of Dust

When the small boy came to me
with a handful of barn swallows,

I said, I cannot reattach their nests;
I am not a mother bird.

I do not have the breast for it, the fallen
robins of the night;

you who swoop with your soft cries
of grief: I cannot mend your nests.

The mares trampled them into the dust,
and by morning no remnant chaff,

no tiny birds like a child’s amputated
fingers, white and cold.

ii

But ma mere, mon semblable,
what of the breast you would not unbind

for me, caking at the long vowels
of my cry, when I swayed in the sling

of your arms, with my searing eyes
and working mouth?

It seems we fell away from one another.
Did you startle when I moved

at the sound of rain; did you startle away?
You laid me down in the ruthless dark

and sang lullabies to dawn’s
undemanding fleurs du printemps,

and when I called to you,
no one came.

iii

You said I tore you asunder when
I swam into the world.

When you said this, I spun a husk
of tears, seaming it to the roof of night;

I conjured a barn swallow mother
feeding me from her mouth,

as a mother would, settling over me,
so that we lay heart to heart

as a mother should, even in a nest
hanging by a strand.

iv

My imaginary mere calms the breeze,
and it rocks me in her absence;

The nest is secured to the beam.
I am safe in the pouch of the nest.

That I am her alpha and omega
toughens her small fluttering body;

she stays me, when I speak to her
of flying.

v

You had said that I was too young to fly,
but I had somehow fractured my wings;

heavy feet had ground me to dust.
When I lay broken, mon semblable,

ma mere, you gave your battle cry, and flew
into the white eye of the mad moon.

from Blackbirds Dance in the Empire of Love, Finishing Line Press 2015.

More of Andrews’ work is posted to La Parola Vivace and her memoir Nightfall in Verona.

The poet is an inveterate blogger and civil rights advocate, founding a disability advocacy organization in the early 2000’s and blogging civil rights and politics at this web address. She lives with her companion fiction-writer Jack Brooks and seven cream-coated English Golden Retrievers in the Poudre River valley in northern Colorado. contact info in sidebar.

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Professor Andrews at 69 in 2018

.For a closer look at the poet’s remarkable oeuvre & the influence of place and family upon her work, please migrate to About the Blogger.  Scroll down to current post.

TRAITORS OF ANOTHER STRIPE – THOSE WE SHED OUR BLOOD AND OPENED OUR DOORS TO SAVE.

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Recently we learned from a leaked tape why the Republicans have not put their pet criminal Trump out of Office. Speaking at a fundraiser, Nunes, Trump/s  poodle whose self-appointed job is to lick Trump’s balls on command, admitted the following:

“We still plan to impeach Rosenstein (to bring an end to the legitimate special counsel investigation). But we had to cool it so that we can confirm Brett Kavanaugh to the Supreme Court.”

Those of you who live in other countries and are enjoying watching the United States being raped and sodomized by traitors and the Russian piss-ant called Putin– you might try to do some critical thinking and ask yourself if you don’t owe the U.S. a debt of gratitude, and that maybe we need your help.

I heave encountered you in the strangest places. Like some of you associated with a certain European Press, whose publisher was originally American, but who has considered herself one of you for years and years.

We took in your families when you were starving, eating potatoes. Our doors were open to you. We shed our blood and treasure beside you as your allies. You suckled at the breast of Lady Liberty and if we hadn’t let you in you would have died in the muck and indifference of your own wretched countries.

How quickly we forget. For the past year, my manuscript of poetry—a damn good book, I must say—has been on schedule to come out of the referenced press.

This press has other Americans on its list. It has its pet superstar: a rail-thin little suck-up who is a movie star and a model and who knows how many other things— she has become the teacher’s pet for sure. She won a few meaningless awards for the Press, which has on its rolls Americans of Irish descent like me.

Not long ago, on her home page on this site, the publisher posted that a third of Americans don’t believe in the Holocaust. We agree that if this is actually true, it is pathetic.

But consider this. This publisher, who prays to some esoteric Celtic goddess, used her position and the clout of the fact that she gets her ass kissed, by virtue of not moderating the comments and editing out ensuing bigotry, to incite Anti-American feeling. Those writers who have been published by her and who want to be published by her joined in the chorus she started, bashing their own country.

LISTEN TO ME AND LISTEN TO ME LOUD AND CLEAR, FRIENDS. AMERICA HAS BEEN TAKEN OVER IN A COUP. THOSE OF US WHO WOULD LIKE TO SEE THE AMERICAN PRESIDENT PUT DOWN LIKE THE PIG HE IS ARE NOT A MINORITY. BUT OUR CONSTITUTION HAS FAILED US IN THAT THE FOUNDERS COULD NOT HAVE FORESEEN THE DAY WHEN THE PARTY IN THE POWER WOULD BE TRAITORS SMELLING OUT NONEXISTENT CONSPIRACIES IN ORDER TO UPEND A LEGITIMATE SPECIAL COUNSEL’S INVESTIGATION INTO THE PRESIDENT’S ROLE IN RUSSIA’S INCURSION–TREASONOUS “REPRESENTATIVES”, WHO WOULD DO NOTHING TO STOP A TRAITOR PRESIDENT. A FAKE PRESIDENT. A DOG OF THE WORLD, A PIG, A SHILL, A FAKE WITH CABINET MEMBERS CUT OF HIS CLOTH WHO KNOW DAMN WELL WHAT WILL SHAKE OUT WHEN MUELLER MINCES THEIR MEAT.

WE ARE IN GRAVE PAIN AND DIFFICULTY. SO WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU. WHERE ARE YOUR EXPRESSIONS OF SOLIDARITY WITH THE OPPRESSED IN THIS COUNTRY WHEN WE HAVE COME TO YOUR AID FOR MANY YEARS, LIBERATING YOU IN THE 2ND WORLD WAR AND IN THE 1ST..

AMONG THE TRAITORS ATTEMPTING TO CONVINCE THE BRAIN-DAMAGED FAR RIGHT WHO ALREADY BELIEVE THAT AMERICA SHOULD BE WHITE, IN LINE WITH TRUMP’S OWN BELIEF THAT HE HAS THE RIGHT TO DESTROY ENTIRE SANCTUARY-SEEKING FAMILIES,: RUDY GIULIANI, JAY SEKULOW, AN ITALIAN AND A JEW. IT SEEMS IN FACT THAT EVERYWHERE WE LOOK, THERE ARE JEWS UNDER EVERY ROCK. IN FACT A LOT OF JEWS SEEM TO BE INVOLVED IN THE MADDING UNFOLDING PLOT OF TREASON AGAINST THE UNITED STATES. IS THIS WHAT OUR SOLIDARITY WITH YOU GETS US? HOW WE’VE WEPT AND COMMISERATED WITH YOU OVER THE HOLOCAUST?

WE DIDN’T SEND YOU BACK TO THE DESERT .  WE LET YOU IMPLANT YOURSELVES AMONG US AND PROPAGATE LIKE POLLEN IN SPRING. NOW YOU ARE INDEED OVER-REPRESENTED IN EVERY DISCIPLINE THAT REQUIRES A DEGREE. NO ONE STOPS YOU FROM ATTAINING SKY-SCRAPER WEALTH. AND SOME OF YOU HAVE BECOME PERPETRATORS LIKE WEINSTEIN, LIKE THE DYNAMIC HARVARD-YALE DUO, THE YOU KNOW WHATS  WHO THREW ME OUT OF THE CLASSROOM AND KILLED MY CAREER WHEN I DISCLOSED MY DEPRESSION,

WHY AREN’T YOU SHAMING THE TRAITORS AMONG YOU OUT OF EXISTENCE. WHY AREN’T YOU leading the American resistance, you who have suffered more than anyone at the hands of a fascist? Non Jewish American intellectuals don’t deny the Holocaust.

BUT I DIGRESS, YES? Let’s imagine that the press I mention is in Ireland, the publisher’s adopted country. Now please tell me why I should provide a press that is inciting anti American sentiment, lumping us all together as if we are responsible for the coup that has slit our country’s throat, and scared our allies, with a good manuscript, or any manuscript.

I will not participate in this. Where are you, countries we liberated at Normandy and people whose grandparents came through Ellis Island. Have you bothered to reach out to any of us to let us know you are there?

WHEN YOU ARE RIDICULING AMERICA DOES IT OCCUR TO YOU THAT REAL PEOPLE WHO ARE TRAPPED AND TERRIFIED LIVE HERE?

For shame.

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