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Posted on by Luisa A. Igloria

Panopticon series

“To see and be seen
is to be taken prisoner.” ~ D. Bonta

At the end of summer, dance class recital. Grass skirts and crepe paper leis, halter tops with coral flower prints. New breasts of girls refracted in the prism of men’s eyes.

*

Children milled about after church service. The commons was an indecipherable blur of bodies. Where did he come from, how and why did he scoop her up in his arms? At first she laughed then squirmed. We crossed the room as she was set down. How did no one else notice?

*

Posted on by Dave Bonta

Misfit

(Lord’s day). This morning was brought me my boy’s fine livery, which is very handsome, and I do think to keep to black and gold lace upon gray, being the colour of my arms, for ever. To church in the morning, and so home with Sir W. Batten, and there eat some boiled great oysters, and so home, and while I was at dinner with my wife I was sick, and was forced to vomit up my oysters again, and then I was well.
By and by a coach came to call me by my appointment, and so my wife and I carried to Westminster to Mrs. Hunt’s, and I to Whitehall, Worcester House, and to my Lord Treasurer’s to have found Sir G. Carteret, but missed in all these places. So back to White Hall, and there met with Captn. Isham, this day come from Lisbon, with letters from the Queen to the King. And he did give me letters which speak that our fleet is all at Lisbon; and that the Queen do not intend to embarque sooner than tomorrow come fortnight.
So having sent for my wife, she and I to my Lady Sandwich, and after a short visit away home. She home, and I to Sir G. Carteret’s about business, and so home too, and Sarah having her fit we went to bed.

I live in black,
the color of oil:
oy! I was sick
and oy! I was well,
found but missed
all places here
with letters from home
to home.


Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Sunday 23 March 1661/62.

Posted on by Dave Bonta

Arbitration

At the office all the morning. At noon Sir Williams both and I by water down to the Lewes, Captain Dekins, his ship, a merchantman, where we met the owners, Sir John Lewes and Alderman Lewes, and several other great merchants; among others one Jefferys, a merry man that is a fumbler, and he and I called brothers, and he made all the mirth in the company. We had a very fine dinner, and all our wives’ healths, with seven or nine guns apiece; and exceeding merry we were, and so home by barge again, and I vexed to find Griffin leave the office door open, and had a design to have carried away the screw or the carpet in revenge to him, but at last I would not, but sent for him and chid him, and so to supper and to bed, having drank a great deal of wine.

Water to the ship, we met
the owners—we
brothers in the company—
and all our guns
were open
to revenge.


Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Saturday 22 March 1661/62.

Posted on by Luisa A. Igloria

Horoscope

This entry is part 2 of 19 in the series Morning Porch Poems: Spring 2015

 

Two eyes peered out at me from the thicket.
I was pruning branches. I was cutting back
abundance entangled in vines.
The vines were slender and outlined in barbs.
Tendrils wrapped a season’s growth
in their complicated embrace.
Which of these are not equally
implicated? The animal watched
then slunk away. I lowered my instrument,
examining the detritus left in its wake.

 

In response to an entry from the Morning Porch.

Posted on by Dave Bonta

Miniature

With Sir W. Batten by water to Whitehall, and he to Westminster. I went to see Sarah and my Lord’s lodgings, which are now all in dirt, to be repaired against my Lord’s coming from sea with the Queen. Thence to Westminster Hall; and there walked up and down and heard the great difference that hath been between my Lord Chancellor and my Lord of Bristol, about a proviso that my Lord Chancellor would have brought into the Bill for Conformity, that it shall be in the power of the King, when he sees fit, to dispense with the Act of Conformity; and though it be carried in the House of Lords, yet it is believed it will hardly pass in the Commons. Here I met with Chetwind, Parry, and several others, and went to a little house behind the Lords’ house to drink some wormwood ale, which doubtless was a bawdy house, the mistress of the house having the look and dress. Here we staid till noon and then parted, I by water to the Wardrobe to meet my wife, but my Lady and they had dined, and so I dined with the servants, and then up to my Lady, and there staid and talked a good while, and then parted and walked into Cheapside, and there saw my little picture, for which I am to sit again the next week. So home, and staid late writing at my office, and so home and to bed, troubled that now my boy is also fallen sick of an ague we fear.

all in dirt
the worm in the little picture
at my office


Erasure haiku derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Friday 21 March 1661/62.

Posted on by Dave Bonta

Bait and switch

At my office all the morning, at noon to the Exchange, and so home to dinner, and then all the afternoon at the office till late at night, and so home and to bed, my mind in good ease when I mind business, which methinks should be a good argument to me never to do otherwise.

At my office I change the office.
A good mind thinks
a good argument
to do other-
wise.


Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Thursday 20 March 1661/62.

Posted on by Dave Bonta

Digest

All the morning and afternoon at my office putting things in order, and in the evening I do begin to digest my uncle the Captain’s papers into one book, which I call my Brampton book, for the clearer understanding things how they are with us.
So home and supper and to bed.
This noon came a letter from T. Pepys, the turner, in answer to one of mine the other day to him, wherein I did cheque him for not coming to me, as he had promised, with his and his father’s resolucion about the difference between us. But he writes to me in the very same slighting terms that I did to him, without the least respect at all, but word for word as I did him, which argues a high and noble spirit in him, though it troubles me a little that he should make no more of my anger, yet I cannot blame him for doing so, he being the elder brother’s son, and not depending upon me at all.

I begin to digest my book
for clearer understanding—

a letter for light
a word for spirit

for being other and not
me at all.


Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Wednesday 19 March 1661/62.