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Jenny Noble Anderson
Goodreads Author
Website
Genre
Influences
Member Since
July 2020
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Can Buddhists Wear Mascara?
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But Still She Flies: Poems and Paintings
by
—
published
2021
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* Note: these are all the books on Goodreads for this author. To add more, click here.
“I've known a lot of
hummingbirds. I used to
be one too. But then
I grew.
An ostrich now,
I listen. I wait.
Grounded (but quick
when I need to be).
I've still got
that sprint in me.”
―
hummingbirds. I used to
be one too. But then
I grew.
An ostrich now,
I listen. I wait.
Grounded (but quick
when I need to be).
I've still got
that sprint in me.”
―
“And one day, these outsides
will be left behind,
cicada-like, as the contents
rise and fly.
You're certain to see more
of me—that knobby tree,
that wave, that wing.”
― But Still She Flies: Poems and Paintings
will be left behind,
cicada-like, as the contents
rise and fly.
You're certain to see more
of me—that knobby tree,
that wave, that wing.”
― But Still She Flies: Poems and Paintings
“We may have been
flawless then—
but look at us now.
Look how we shine.
Look at the map we've
made in these fractures—
in all the places where
the world got its hands
on us.”
― But Still She Flies: Poems and Paintings
flawless then—
but look at us now.
Look how we shine.
Look at the map we've
made in these fractures—
in all the places where
the world got its hands
on us.”
― But Still She Flies: Poems and Paintings
“Yes, sing
to me, Little Bird,
while we wait.
Fill me with
those feathered
lullabies, those
promises of big
blue skies—sing
me your sweet
songs of freedom.”
―
to me, Little Bird,
while we wait.
Fill me with
those feathered
lullabies, those
promises of big
blue skies—sing
me your sweet
songs of freedom.”
―
“My long smooth neck had felt only
kisses and the warmth of winter
scarves. Your neck was bleeding,
raw, and could scarecely endure a
swallow, a breath, the bandage I'd
wrapped clumsily around your
lifetime of injuries.”
― But Still She Flies: Poems and Paintings
kisses and the warmth of winter
scarves. Your neck was bleeding,
raw, and could scarecely endure a
swallow, a breath, the bandage I'd
wrapped clumsily around your
lifetime of injuries.”
― But Still She Flies: Poems and Paintings
“i pry myself
from the bed,
pull my skin up
from the floor and
hook it loosely
on my shoulder
blades. i'm not
hopeful yet.
but there's something
about being upright.
(opening the blinds
just a tad) that
allows a whisper
to take root.”
―
from the bed,
pull my skin up
from the floor and
hook it loosely
on my shoulder
blades. i'm not
hopeful yet.
but there's something
about being upright.
(opening the blinds
just a tad) that
allows a whisper
to take root.”
―
“I've known a lot of
hummingbirds. I used to
be one too. But then
I grew.
An ostrich now,
I listen. I wait.
Grounded (but quick
when I need to be).
I've still got
that sprint in me.”
―
hummingbirds. I used to
be one too. But then
I grew.
An ostrich now,
I listen. I wait.
Grounded (but quick
when I need to be).
I've still got
that sprint in me.”
―
“Maybe one day you'll see
me latched barkside to that tree,
teasing my way out of the skin I'm in
until I plunk into the dirt. Until I slither
then fly. Shiny and high.
Leaving only an effigy—
a hollowed-out
replica
behind.”
― But Still She Flies: Poems and Paintings
me latched barkside to that tree,
teasing my way out of the skin I'm in
until I plunk into the dirt. Until I slither
then fly. Shiny and high.
Leaving only an effigy—
a hollowed-out
replica
behind.”
― But Still She Flies: Poems and Paintings
