Via Negativa

May 3, 2015 by Luisa A. Igloria

Events of the Century

“after foolish talk
the discourse
of rain” – D. Bonta

Earthquakes do not clamor for attention:
you could say they trump all versions of Cartesian proof.

Every time the odds are stacked,
the only ensuing discussion is what history tends to favor.

So much for talk of loss and triumph, for the length
of his reach compared to his opponent’s; his weight and class.

How fast is a punch delivered? It’s hard to determine if sounds
welling up in the amphitheater are from pain or jubilation.

Those who work a hotline know which exchanges are code for help.
I forget when presidentiable became a word.

In response to Via Negativa: Cowboy haiku.

May 2, 2015 by Luisa A. Igloria

Emergency kit

The box held pellets
of compacted soil,
a growing medium
where I could sow
in each compartment
seed after seed as if
I could fashion an ark
out of the promise
of their green.

May 2, 2015May 30, 2016 by Dave Bonta

Early to coach again and to Kingston, where we baited a little, and presently to coach again and got early to London, and I found all well at home, and Mr. Hunt and his wife had dined with my wife to-day, and been very kind to my wife in my absence. After I had washed myself, it having been the hottest day that has been this year, I took them all by coach to Mrs. Hunt’s, and I to Dr. Clerke’s lady, and gave her her letter and token. She is a very fine woman, and what with her person and the number of fine ladies that were with her, I was much out of countenance, and could hardly carry myself like a man among them; but however, I staid till my courage was up again, and talked to them, and viewed her house, which is most pleasant, and so drank and good-night. And so to my Lord’s lodgings, where by chance I spied my Lady’s coach, and found her and my Lady Wright there, and so I spoke to them, and they being gone went to Mr. Hunt’s for my wife, and so home and to bed.

Lit again.
If my absence were
with her
I could carry my age.

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Friday 2 May 1662.

May 1, 2015May 30, 2016 by Dave Bonta

Cowboy haiku

Sir G. Carteret, Sir W. Pen, and myself, with our clerks, set out this morning from Portsmouth very early, and got by noon to Petersfield; several officers of the Yard accompanying us so far. Here we dined and were merry.
At dinner comes my Lord Carlingford from London, going to Portsmouth: tells us that the Duchess of York is brought to bed of a girl, at which I find nobody pleased; and that Prince Rupert and the Duke of Buckingham are sworn of the Privy Councell.
He himself made a dish with eggs of the butter of the Sparagus, which is very fine meat, which I will practise hereafter.
To horse again after dinner, and got to Gilford, where after supper I to bed, having this day been offended by Sir W. Pen’s foolish talk, and I offending him with my answers. Among others he in discourse complaining of want of confidence, did ask me to lend him a grain or two, which I told him I thought he was better stored with than myself, before Sir George. So that I see I must keep a greater distance than I have done, and I hope I may do it because of the interest which I am making with Sir George.
To bed all alone, and my Will in the truckle bed.

noon field—
I find nobody
and a horse

after foolish talk
the discourse
of rain

I keep
a great distance
in my truck

Erasure haiku derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Thursday 1 May 1662.

May 1, 2015May 1, 2015 by Luisa A. Igloria

Choosing Settings for the Terrarium

Here more than anywhere else,
the need for scale and introspection.

But I cannot stress how important it is
not to think we are dealing with fake interiors.

That is not craft-store bought plush, that
is a base of real and permeable material.

A sponge is a living thing and has heard symphonies
punctuated by the mating call of whales.

Sediment is not one thing but a plurality;
think of it as a constellation of the once-felt.

I need only a small indentation, a hill loved
by a small red plastic trowel; in this circle

ringed by clear acrylic, droplets of fern hear
what I cannot say. Everything else condenses.

April 30, 2015 by Luisa A. Igloria

Grief work

No one makes
house calls anymore,
for elegy is the order
of the day.

In response to Via Negativa: Missed appointment.

April 30, 2015May 30, 2016 by Dave Bonta

Missed appointment

This morning Sir G. Carteret came down to the yard, and there we mustered over all the men and determined of some regulations in the yard, and then to dinner, all the officers of the yard with us, and after dinner walk to Portsmouth, there to pay off the Success, which we did pretty early, and so I took leave of Sir W. Pen, he desiring to know whither I went, but I would not tell him. I went to the ladies, and there took them and walked to the Mayor’s to show them the present, and then to the Dock, where Mr. Tippets made much of them, and thence back again, the Doctor being come to us to their lodgings, whither came our supper by my appointment, and we very merry, playing at cards and laughing very merry till 12 o’clock at night, and so having staid so long (which we had resolved to stay till they bade us be gone), which yet they did not do but by consent, we bade them good night, and so past the guards, and went to the Doctor’s lodgings, and there lay with him, our discourse being much about the quality of the lady with Mrs. Pierce, she being somewhat old and handsome, and painted and fine, and had a very handsome maid with her, which we take to be the marks of a bawd. But Mrs. Pierce says she is a stranger to her and met by chance in the coach, and pretends to be a dresser. Her name is Eastwood. So to sleep in a bad bed about one o’clock in the morning.
This afternoon after dinner comes Mr. Stephenson, one of the burgesses of the town, to tell me that the Mayor and burgesses did desire my acceptance of a burgess-ship, and were ready at the Mayor’s to make me one. So I went, and there they were all ready, and did with much civility give me my oath, and after the oath, did by custom shake me all by the hand. So I took them to a tavern and made them drink, and paying the reckoning, went away. They having first in the tavern made Mr. Waith also a burgess, he coming in while we were drinking. It cost me a piece in gold to the Town Clerk, and 10s. to the Bayliffes, and spent 6s.

Morning came
to the yard but not
to the doctor, night
having stayed to guard
the doctor’s lodgings:
an old, painted dresser,
a bad bed, a clock
ready to shake.

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Wednesday 30 April 1662.

April 29, 2015 by Luisa A. Igloria

Gacela, with a line from Lorca

Who has not seen the gypsies,
dream and bronze,
their heads held high,
their hooded eyes?

I heard them early today,
coming through the streets,
bringing news of the most
recent apocalypse—

In their hands the smell
of leveled mountains,
and in their hair the blue
persistence of dreams.

Night clung to the folds
of their sleeves, and green
forest burr. In their mouths,
the names of those too soon

surrendered. I was not afraid
and I held a window open: I called
though I knew they would not spare
my friend. They were us and I

was them, riding hard beneath
the olive ripple of leaves,
a sorrowful psalm of clouds,
the sun’s hook of trembling gold.

~ in memoriam, Rhodora Montemayor Palinar

In response to Via Negativa: Killing Lorca.

April 29, 2015May 30, 2016 by Dave Bonta

Urban renewal

At the pay all the morning, and so to dinner; and then to it again in the afternoon, and after our work was done, Sir G. Carteret, Sir W. Pen and I walked forth, and I spied Mrs. Pierce and another lady passing by. So I left them and went to the ladies, and walked with them up and down, and took them to Mrs. Stephens, and there gave them wine and sweetmeats, and were very merry; and then comes the Doctor, and we carried them by coach to their lodging, which was very poor, but the best they could get, and such as made much mirth among us. So I appointed one to watch when the gates of the town were ready to be shut, and to give us notice; and so the Doctor and I staid with them playing and laughing, and at last were forced to bid good night for fear of being locked into the town all night. So we walked to the yard, designing how to prevent our going to London tomorrow, that we might be merry with these ladies, which I did. So to supper and merrily to bed.

Our work was art,
we gave meat to the poor

but the best gates of the town shut
for fear of the town—

a design to prevent tomorrow,
that we might err.

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Tuesday 29 April 1662.

April 28, 2015May 30, 2016 by Dave Bonta

Killing Lorca

The Doctor and I begun philosophy discourse exceeding pleasant. He offers to bring me into the college of virtuosoes and my Lord Brouncker’s acquaintance, and to show me some anatomy, which makes me very glad; and I shall endeavour it when I come to London. Sir W. Pen much troubled upon letters came last night. Showed me one of Dr. Owen’s to his son, whereby it appears his son is much perverted in his opinion by him; which I now perceive is one thing that hath put Sir William so long off the hooks. By coach to the Pay-house, and so to work again, and then to dinner, and to it again, and so in the evening to the yard, and supper and bed.

The gun, a virtuoso in anatomy,
makes an end to much
bled-upon letters

as night appears
in one thin hook.

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Monday 28 April 1662.