Done and Undone

Sketch from the forest & a new poem just published at Hidden Peak Press. https://hiddenpeakpress.com/2023/09/22/mp-powers-done-and-undone-poem/

Done and Undone         

All your life you waited
     for some tiny bird – a wren,
a cardinal – somewhere in the world

whose birth would change your fortune.

But now that chirping
     creature of joy is dead, buried
in the earth with its lovesongs &
there’s nothing left nothing
     for you to wish for nothing nothing

but a tree perhaps,
     some weird-shaped, storm-bedraggled
thing whose falling – whenever it happens,
     and wherever – will correspond
precisely to your own

quiet return to the earth.

 

 

Paris Hotel

I spent 3 days in Paris in early August. 3 days isn’t nearly enough to see Paris, but I did manage to get a few poems and sketches out of it. The sketch below is of one of the many Eiffel Tower statue salesmen at the Sacré Coeur in Montmartre. The poem was just published at The Whisky Blot. https://www.whiskyblot.com/journal/paris-hotel-by-mp-powers

Paris Hotel

Drunk at noon in the city
of Baudelaire, I am back at my hotel, deprived
of sleep,
here for an afternoon nap.

I yank the curtains shut, lie down on the bed,
think about all the ghosts
who’ve occupied
this space
before me. Ghosts.

I can almost see them gliding
across the carpet, laughing, arguing,
making love in the milky
maundering moonlit
hours.

This hotel is ancient. It’s at least 200
years old.
I can hear a strange occasional
clicking
inside the walls. I can hear the floors
groaning.

I can feel the heavy rumble
of the metro
as it passes
underneath the building.

I fold the pillow around my
skull, throw the duvet
over me.

But after about 10 minutes,
it becomes clear – I’m too wired to sleep.

How can you sleep in bright liquid
August
in the city
of Picasso, Cendrars, Hemingway?

I ponder the question for a bit,
though I know the answer. So,
I climb out of bed – I too
am a ghost
in this hotel’s memory – pulling
up
my trousers, lacing my shoes.

I grab my wallet off the dresser
and,
remembering
I am in the city
of Villon, remove bank card
licenses Deutschland Ticket
everything
but €30
and head up to Montmartre.