Via Negativa

July 10, 2025July 10, 2025 by Luisa A. Igloria

Up by four o’clock, and before I went to the office I practised my arithmetique, and then, when my wife was up, did call her and Sarah, and did make up a difference between them, for she is so good a servant as I am loth to part with her. So to the office all the morning, where very much business, but it vexes me to see so much disorder at our table, that, every man minding a several business, we dispatch nothing.
Dined at home with my wife, then to the office again, and being called by Sir W. Batten, walked to the Victualler’s office, there to view all the several offices and houses to see that they were employed in order to give the Council an account thereof. So after having taken an oath or two of Mr. Lewes and Captain Brown and others I returned to the office, and there sat despatching several businesses alone till night, and so home and by daylight to bed.

the arithematic
difference between us

is a nothing with several uses
we count and own

and others turn to ice
night and day

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Thursday 10 July 1662.

July 9, 2025July 9, 2025 by Luisa A. Igloria

Matrilineal

river in November light between bare woods and mountain

I have no sons; I've only birthed 
daughters, each given a distinct name. 
Sons can be named after their fathers, 
and their fathers' fathers before them. 
A Junior; the second, third, fourth.
Perhaps a remnant of kingly practice? 
Keep it all in the family— the name, 
the wealth; power, property, influence. 
Such inbreeding among royals was once 
thought to be the cause of haemophilia, 
though really the disorder is due to 
a mutation in the genes. Rare clot, 
flower blooming beneath the skin:
whose eulogy do you serve? Which
rebel thread pulls away, thickening 
to scroll its own emphatic calligraphy?

July 9, 2025 by Dave Bonta

Unearthed

Up by four o’clock, and at my multiplicacion-table hard, which is all the trouble I meet withal in my arithmetique. So made me ready and to the office, where all the morning busy, and Sir W. Pen came to my office to take his leave of me, and desiring a turn in the garden, did commit the care of his building to me, and offered all his services to me in all matters of mine. I did, God forgive me! promise him all my service and love, though the rogue knows he deserves none from me, nor do I intend to show him any; but as he dissembles with me, so must I with him. Dined at home, and so to the office again, my wife with me, and while I was for an hour making a hole behind my seat in my closet to look into the office, she was talking to me about her going to Brampton, which I would willingly have her to do but for the cost of it, and to stay here will be very inconvenient because of the dirt that I must have when my house is pulled down.
Then to my business till night, then Mr. Cooper and I to our business, and then came Mr. Mills, the minister, to see me, which he hath but rarely done to me, though every day almost to others of us; but he is a cunning fellow, and knows where the good victuals is, and the good drink, at Sir W. Batten’s. However, I used him civilly, though I love him as I do the rest of his coat. So to supper and to bed.

a hard turn
in the garden of love

making a hole
to look into the dirt

till night and I
are almost used up

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Wednesday 9 July 1662.

July 8, 2025July 8, 2025 by Luisa A. Igloria

Evaporation

"Are you – Nobody – too?"
            ~ Emily Dickinson


A man falls asleep in the deep 
folds of a department store massage chair, 
and no one notices. It's dark when he wakes,
still inside the store now empty and shuttered
for the night. It's not something he intended
to do, and is mildly embarrassed at the attention
it generates. Whereas, there are apparently
people who choose to disappear from their lives,
even hiring "night movers" to spirit them away
without a trace to a different and undisclosed
location. In Japan, they're called jouhatsu,
which means evaporation. They let go of their 
names, every material possession they ever 
owned; their jobs, their network of friends. 
They even let go of their families. Some 
disappear to save face, because they can't 
live down the shame of a terrible mistake. 
Some have become disenchanted with their old 
lives, others because the weight of existence 
is too much though death isn't an appealing 
option. Their sudden disappearance makes it seem 
as if they simply evaporated into the atmosphere. 
But they still have bodies; many of them may be 
floating around in big cities, in plain sight— 
pale and anonymous as sadness that can't be 
tied to any particular thing, with no need 
to answer to the call of anything other 
than the overwhelming desire to withdraw.

July 8, 2025 by Dave Bonta

Saké

At the office all the morning and dined at home, and after dinner in all haste to make up my accounts with my Lord, which I did with some trouble, because I had some hopes to have made a profit to myself in this account and above what was due to me (which God forgive me in), but I could not, but carried them to my Lord, with whom they passed well. So to the Wardrobe, where alone with my Lord above an hour; and he do seem still to have his old confidence in me; and tells me to boot, that Mr. Coventry hath spoke of me to him to great advantage; wherein I am much pleased. By and by comes in Mr. Coventry to visit my Lord; and so my Lord and he and I walked together in the great chamber a good while; and I found him a most ingenuous man and good company. He being gone I also went home by water, Mr. Moore with me for discourse sake, and then parted from me, Cooper being there ready to attend me, so he and I to work till it was dark, and then eat a bit and by daylight to bed.

after dinner
I make up a god

give the war an old
boot to eat

I am anyone with saké
I work till daylight

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Tuesday 8 July 1662.

July 7, 2025July 7, 2025 by Luisa A. Igloria

The Loss of Time

When is it a metaphor, and when is the blue
curtain just a blue curtain, a car stalled
on the road just the result of a bad battery and
not a cosmic memo about never getting to where 
you want to go in life? There are three days 
this summer when the moon's orbit will once more 
place it at its farthest point from the equator; 
this causes the earth to spin much faster, resulting 
in shorter days. But what astrophysicists mean is 
shorter by milliseconds— the loss of time may not 
even be immediately noticeable, until a half 
century from now when perhaps we'll no longer 
have 24-hour days or 7-day workweeks. Other kinds 
of losses might only seem inconsequential—the hairs 
on your head, the thinning of sparrow populations. 
The decline of honeybees and wildflowers from habitat 
loss. Do you wonder why it's so difficult now 
to hear the whippoorwill sing its name, signalling 
the end of the season of loneliness or frost?

July 7, 2025July 7, 2025 by Dave Bonta

Poetry Blog Digest 2025, Week 27

A personal selection of posts from the Poetry Blogging Network and beyond. Although I tend to quote my favorite bits, please do click through and read the whole posts. You can also browse the blog digest archive at Via Negativa or, if you’d like it in your inbox, subscribe on Substack (where the posts might be truncated by some email providers).

This week: singing bones, messages in bottles, the wind phone, the dark mist of America, and much more. Enjoy.

July 7, 2025 by Dave Bonta

Antiquarian

Up and to my office early, and there all the morning alone till dinner, and after dinner to my office again, and about 3 o’clock with my wife by water to Westminster, where I staid in the Hall while my wife went to see her father and mother, and she returning we by water home again, and by and by comes Mr. Cooper, so he and I to our mathematiques, and so supper and to bed.
My morning’s work at the office was to put the new books of my office into order, and writing on the backsides what books they be, and transcribing out of some old books some things into them.

to my ear alone
the moth comes

to be my new book
writing out old things

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Monday 7 July 1662.

July 6, 2025 by Dave Bonta

Ministry

(Lord’s day). Lay long in bed to-day with my wife merry and pleasant, and then rose and settled my accounts with my wife for housekeeping, and do see that my kitchen, besides wine, fire, candle, sope, and many other things, comes to about 30s. a week, or a little over.
To church, where Mr. Mills made a lazy sermon. So home to dinner, where my brother Tom dined with me, and so my wife and I to church again in the afternoon, and that done I walked to the Wardrobe and spent my time with Mr. Creed and Mr. Moore talking about business; so up to supper with my Lady, who tells me, with much trouble, that my Lady Castlemaine is still as great with the King, and that the King comes as often to her as ever he did, at which, God forgive me, I am well pleased.
It began to rain, and so I borrowed a hat and cloak of Mr. Moore and walked home, where I found Captain Ferrer with my wife, and after speaking a matter of an hour with him he went home and we all to bed.
Jack Cole, my old friend, found me out at the Wardrobe; and, among other things, he told me that certainly most of the chief ministers of London would fling up their livings; and that, soon or late, the issue thereof would be sad to the King and Court.

I keep my candle
where wartime comes

as often as god
forgive me rain

I borrow an oak
to be my wardrobe

among other thin
ministers of the living

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Sunday 6 July 1662.