James Andrews

James Andrews Poems

1.

These are the things that press down upon the world.
They are the semblances of rings around the moon.

The howling dogs in barking circles
...

Wide eyed and open in astonishment I watch
Those long and curving red nailed fingers
Close around me in the evening,
Sun setting in the windows of the Hudson
...

The waltz begins
And partners are exchanged
The dancers float across the ballroom
...

Down we drove,
The rim of Philadelphia
Hot motorcycle
Burning in the truck.
...

Seemed it was no accident
The smell of sulphur
Riding hard upon the brakes
Descending from the parkway
...

Small children wading underneath the fetid branches
Feral twisting rocks
The homes of cottonmouths
Pebbles rolling made of marbles
...

Escaped my home, constricting me,
Up the pass, above the city lights
To the valley of my dreams.
...

Becalmed, the doldrums bear down frowning.
Hull fouled by weeds, persistent barnacles.
The ship is steadfast in her silence,
The light alone enough to shatter us.
...

Drawn lines amongst the willows dripping,
Shadows of the morning,
Sight set upon the evening star,
He gazes at the solstice moon,
...

Six miles of footpaths
Field, riverbank, dell, forest.
Cumulous and blinding blue.
The only sound the distant hum
...

11.

I stop the car behind the church.

Hear the fan, my ticking engine cooling
Comforts, fills the alternate of silence.
...

You sit alone like me
Ice cream from Swenson's
In your hand
Siddhartha in your lap
...

Waiting for the ferry
I found a piece of Delft, or so I thought,
Blue white and shining on the rock beach at St. John's,
Mixed it in with unfamiliar coins of Canada
...

Far off the glacier ice exhales.
The world was so much warmer yesterday.

Leaves blowing all around the town,
Gusts scudding from the polar seas
...

The day had been hot.
The buses on the main route
Spinning out comet tails of dust,
...

16.

From pots of glue and sheets of muslin,
Bamboo ribs,
I build a frame of wings
And strap them to my arms and chest.
...

At last
The yawning late night conversation ended.
Silence surged and widened over us like sleep.
Your roommates knew we wished them gone
...

A camera panning
Reveals the wrecks of ships,
The fleets of Japanese
Twisted in oblivion.
...

I know I've been here in this afternoon
4: 10 P.M.
Like lubricated clockworks in a perpetual machine
My life returns to this brown earth blue sky
...

The light has traveled for all time
And now its journey ended refracts and splinters in the atmosphere
Then splits and hurls itself toward all we far flung tribes
Draws us past our unwatched borders on the edges of the day
...

James Andrews Biography

James Andrews grew up in tiny Mt. Gilead, NC (pop.1200) and spent almost a lifetime in the theatre. He produced almost 300 shows, acted in over 100 and directed 80 more. He began writing poetry in his mid-teens and has passionately read and written it ever since. He lives in Fort Mill, South Carolina.)

The Best Poem Of James Andrews

Awake

These are the things that press down upon the world.
They are the semblances of rings around the moon.

The howling dogs in barking circles
Prowl the dim dark yards.

Crystals holding high upon the winter light,
Betray a stranger's footprints
Creeping low beneath our windowsills.

They are so light and small
In their approaching.
Strange and hushing deep.

They are the many travelers
Who brush against
Our yawning fresh faced houses.

After dreams hold out rescinded
Their footprints stay,
Embedded in the frost.

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