“French Suites” and Other Poetry by Mark J. Mitchell The Society October 12, 2014 Culture, Music, Poetry 2 Comments French Suites Each keystroke is precise, clear as a verb Untouched by modifiers. Sharps and flats Are reliable as death, the light trills All mapped out. This strict staff allows no room For cadenzas. Play it as he wrote it. Still, out of all that, out of each note hit, A lyric grows. It approaches dance. Tunes Float over measure. Hear the absence of frills, The Protestant neatness of mind—and that’s All the truth in the music you just heard. Blaise Sewn into the lining of Pascal’s coat There lurked a one-way ticket, correct, hand Stamped, express, to heaven. He could devote His days to prayer. No need to understand A god who’d already burned you pure, Proofed you like a loaf. He wouldn’t be cut Off again. His faith was something he wore Like a habit. It didn’t quite show but He felt it right there, sewn near his heart. He was so certain, he never stepped back To cast a cold eye, or take it apart. He draped it like an old coat on a rack. He unspooled scriptures, kept up his brawls With everyone who thought he could be wrong. He wrote out his thoughts in such lovely scrawls They somehow crossed over from hymns to songs. Rondeau Beginning with a Line from the Gospel of Judas I laugh at the errors of the stars, Dazzled by the impossible dance of cars And headlights. They didn’t foresee our streets, Our cities. They only circle and repeat Their timeless dance and are held out too far Away. They don’t remember how men are— How they breathe, sleep, forget, love, how they eat What they shouldn’t. How they scatter and meet To ponder the errors of the stars. Of course, their mistakes are different from ours, With deeper punishments, strange rewards. They vanish into the hollow lands of grief While we make up games and find relief Laughing at the errors of the stars. Mark J. Mitchell studied writing at UC Santa Cruz under Raymond Carver, George Hitchcock and Barbara Hull. His work has appeared in various periodicals over the last thirty five years, as well as the anthologiesIt has also been nominated for both Pushcart Prizes and The Best of the Net. Good Poems, American Places, Hunger Enough, Retail Woes and Line Drives. Two full length collections are in the works: Lent 1999 is coming soon from Leaf Garden Press and This Twilight World will be published by Popcorn Press.. His chapbook, Three Visitors has recently been published by Negative Capability Press. Artifacts and Relics, another chapbook, is forthcoming from Folded Word and his novel, Knight Prisoner, was recently published by Vagabondage Press and a another novel, A Book of Lost Songs is coming soon from Wild Child Publishing. He lives in San Francisco with his wife, the documentarian and filmmaker Joan Juster. Featured Image: a painting by Adolphe Menzel depicting Frederick the Great playing the flute in his summer palace Sanssouci. Related Post ‘Winter Ends and Spring Begins’ by Wendy Bourke in the woods, I stop in twilight dim … as spring throws off the evening’s hoarfrost coat midst groaning fir and shivering bare limb I hea... Tell the world:FacebookTwitterTumblrPinterestRedditLinkedInEmail 2 Responses Shari Jo LeKane-Yentumi October 12, 2014 Wonderful poetry. Deep in meaning. The heartfelt emotion permeates my soul. Reply Shari Jo LeKane-Yentumi October 12, 2014 Wonderful poetry, deep in meaning; the heartfelt emotion permeates my soul. Reply Leave a Reply Cancel Reply Your email address will not be published.CommentName* Email* Website Notify me of follow-up comments by email. Notify me of new posts by email.