June 2013 – Page 4 – Via Negativa

June 18, 2013May 30, 2016 by Dave Bonta

Sweet By-and-By

To my Lord’s, where much business and some hopes of getting some money thereby. With him to the Parliament House, where he did intend to have gone to have made his appearance to-day, but he met Mr. Crew upon the stairs, and would not go in.
He went to Mrs. Brown’s, and staid till word was brought him what was done in the House. This day they made an end of the twenty men to be excepted from pardon to their estates.
By barge to Stepny with my Lord, where at Trinity House we had great entertainment.
With my Lord there went Sir W. Pen, Sir H. Wright, Hetly, Pierce, Creed, Hill, I and other servants.
Back again to the Admiralty, and so to my Lord’s lodgings, where he told me that he did look after the place of the Clerk of the Acts for me. So to Mr. Crew’s and my father’s and to bed. My wife went this day to Huntsmore for her things, and I was very lonely all night.
This evening my wife’s brother, Balty, came to me to let me know his bad condition and to get a place for him, but I perceive he stands upon a place for a gentleman, that may not stain his family when, God help him, he wants bread.

To my Lord
where some hope of getting money
where the stairs would not end
where we enter the hill
where my wife hunts for bread.

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Monday 18 June 1660.

June 17, 2013 by Luisa A. Igloria

Annus mirabilis

In this lifetime, not the next,
I want to hear the wind speak

a poetry strong enough to bring
all things together that were apart,

a language powerful enough to move stone
gargoyles and brass angels to tears,

to bring a few more dreams
to the dead who’ve lain so patiently

with only the rain or grief
for entertainment. Let us have

no enemies then: let us flash the white
flower of a smile between us, absolve

each other’s debts before the bridge:
fragile, improbably lovely, that

necklace of steps strung
over the abyss.

In response to Via Negativa: Skeptic.

June 17, 2013May 30, 2016 by Dave Bonta

Suchness

(Lord’s day). Lay long abed.
To Mr. Mossum’s; a good sermon. This day the organs did begin to play at White Hall before the King.
Dined at my father’s. After dinner to Mr. Mossum’s again, and so in the garden, and heard Chippell’s father preach, that was Page to the Protector.
And just by the window that I stood at sat Mrs. Butler, the great beauty.
After sermon to my Lord. Mr. Edward and I into Gray’s Inn walks, and saw many beauties.
So to my father’s, where Mr. Cook, W. Bowyer, and my Cozen Joyce Morton supped and to bed.

Organs play for the moss in the garden,
the great beauty walks to cook:
my Zen.

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Sunday 17 June 1660.

June 17, 2013June 17, 2013 by Dave Bonta

Elemental

Is there any message that can’t be improved by the addition of the humble smiley?

Yes. Yes, I think there may be. Continue reading “Elemental”

June 16, 2013June 17, 2013 by Luisa A. Igloria

Archival

A different world, we sigh; was it a different world
back then when we could walk to school,
children unescorted in their going or coming, never
doubtful of our ability to return? Past alleys,
entrances to dingy buildings where workers
folded chairs and vendors unpacked their wares: fool’s
gold, common cotton, cabbages, maps to Yamashita’s treasure
hidden in the hills— In summer heat and through
infinity of monsoon seasons, this was the only world.
Jump rope and jack stones, the melted wax we rolled,
keeping the droppings from candles lit at altar and tomb.
Light years away, it seems easy to slide the filmstrip of
memory along the viewfinder: bike lanes in the park,
names of native flowers painted on signs of streets.
Only the unhurt could truly romanticize it all.
Poor travelers adrift on a perilous shore,
quartered in homes not ever our own—
Remember for what new currency we exchanged the
secret fire we left with, burned?
There’s nothing that could take its place.
Unmoored from our beginnings, we
voyage forward still:
wistful postulants,
exiles from that faded postcard paradise that
years have archived in dusty envelopes we
zipper open and shut.

In response to Via Negativa: Messenger.

June 16, 2013May 30, 2016 by Dave Bonta

Messenger

Rose betimes and abroad in one shirt, which brought me a great cold and pain. Murford took me to Harvey’s by my father’s to drink and told me of a business that I hope to get 5l. by.
To my Lord, and so to White Hall with him about the Clerk of the Privy Seal’s place, which he is to have.
Then to the Admiralty, where I wrote some letters. Here Coll. Thompson told me, as a great secret; that the Nazeby was on fire when the King was there, but that is not known; when God knows it is quite false. Got a piece of gold from Major Holmes for the horse of Dixwell’s I brought to town.
Dined at Mr. Crew’s, and after dinner with my Lord to Whitehall. Court attendance infinite tedious. Back with my Lord to my Lady Wright’s and staid till it had done raining, which it had not done a great while.
After that at night home to my father’s and to bed.

Abroad on a cold business, I have a secret fire: a piece of gold.
Infinite, tedious rain.

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Saturday 16 June 1660.

June 15, 2013 by Dave Bonta

Peacenik

All the morning at the Commissioners of the Navy about getting out my bill for 50l. for the last quarter, which I got done with a great deal of ease, which is not common.
After that with Mr. Turner to the Dolphin and drunk, and so by water to W. Symons, where D. Scobell with his wife, a pretty and rich woman. Mrs. Symons, a very fine woman, very merry after dinner with marrying of Luellin and D. Scobell’s kinswoman that was there. Then to my Lord who told me how the King has given him the place of the great Wardrobe.
My Lord resolves to have Sarah again. I to my father’s, and then to see my uncle and aunt Fenner. So home and to bed.

I commission the navy:
get a dolphin drunk
and marry her
in place of war.
Resolve again to see
home and bed.

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Friday 15 June 1660.

June 15, 2013June 17, 2013 by Dave Bonta

London off the beaten path

The funny thing about tourism is that designating certain areas as worthy of the foreigner’s inquisitive gaze immediately calls their authenticity into question, so that a tourist in search of — for example — the Real London must steer clear of the guide books and rely instead upon the idiosyncratic recommendations of Real Londoners. Continue reading “London off the beaten path”

June 15, 2013June 15, 2013 by Luisa A. Igloria

Nuptial

Forms and witnesses, an entourage
that clapped their hands when the deed

was signed— A glittering handful
of pillowed coins, an heirloom;

a barn full of animals, their flanks
gleaming with fat, their eyes the eyes

of the newly subdued or led into confinement.
My dear, do you believe when I tell you

the figs were ripe to the touch and burst
out of their skins without anyone’s prodding?

Would I have reconsidered had someone spoken
other words, even given commands? Who knows

what it is we really want— something to own,
a name, a life, a self to suckle then wean?

In response to Via Negativa: Owned.

June 14, 2013 by Dave Bonta

Owned

Up to my Lord and from him to the Treasurer of the Navy for 500l.. After that to a tavern with Washington the Purser, very gallant, and ate and drank. To Mr. Crew’s and laid my money.
To my Lady Pickering with the plate that she did give my Lord the other day.
Then to Will’s and met William Symons and Doling and Luellin, and with them to the Bull– head, and then to a new alehouse in Brewer’s Yard, where Winter that had the fray with Stoakes, and from them to my father’s.

As a tavern with my money
or will and a bull,
winter had the oak.

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Thursday 14 June 1660.