Month: January 2015

Posted on by Dave Bonta

Travelogue

Lay long in bed, and so up and abroad to several places about petty businesses. Among others to Tom’s, who I find great hopes of that he will do well, which I am glad of, and am not now so hasty to get a wife for him as I was before. So to dinner to my Lord Crew’s with him and his Lady, and after dinner to Faithorne’s, and there bought some pictures of him; and while I was there, comes by the King’s life-guard, he being gone to Lincoln’s Inn this afternoon to see the Revells there; there being, according to an old custom, a prince and all his nobles, and other matters of sport and charge.
So home, and up to my chamber to look over my papers and other things, my mind being much troubled for these four or five days because of my present great expense, and will be so till I cast up and see how my estate stands, and that I am loth to do for fear I have spent too much, and delay it the rather that I may pay for my pictures and my wife’s, and the book that I am buying for Paul’s School before I do cast up my accompts.

A broad place.
I find hope and a hasty thorn
according to custom.

A prince and all his nobles
look over my papers
in my mind.

The state stands for fear
for my pictures
my buying.


Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Friday 3 January 1661/62.

Posted on by Luisa A. Igloria

Wintering

“Adoro te devote, latens Deitas…” ~ St. Thomas Aquinas

Behind every story, a sympathy
that might need chiseling
in order to be seen.

And the daily hymn
that birds sing as they forage:
Does anything belong to me?

Take me in the cold and show me how
the hive sleeps: how it can bear the rumor
of gold cells ticking in the walls.

Posted on by Luisa A. Igloria

Boundary

Driving through an unfamiliar neighborhood,
I remarked on how almost every house had doors
and windows with security grilles—

And I remembered one Saturday long ago:
me a child just taken out of the bath,
my mother vigorously toweling

my hair; the bedroom door ajar, the sounds
beyond of carpenters we’d hired, repairing
the fence and kitchen floor— Then,

an unfamiliar body, blur moving with speed,
knife in hand, through the outer hall:
commotion in the yard, incredulous

rain of nails, clatter of sawhorses, sharp-
punctured cries— Was that the sound of a fist
breaking a jaw? And I was gathered up

as my mother ran, though she ran toward
and not away, her voice a skillet coming down
hard, commanding a stop to whatever madness

had erupted in our midst. I can’t remember
exactly now if it had to do with the foreman’s
gambling debts, some drunken dalliance

or other vile offense. But clasped in the damp
towel to her heaving chest, I felt the walls
grow permeable: shells of spackled paper.

 

In response to an entry from the Morning Porch.

Posted on by Dave Bonta

Out in the sticks

An invitation sent us before we were up from my Lady Sandwich’s, to come and dine with her: so at the office all the morning, and at noon thither to dinner, where there was a good and great dinner, and the company, Mr. William Montagu and his Lady (but she seemed so far from the beauty that I expected her from my Lady’s talk to be, that it put me into an ill humour all the day, to find my expectation so lost), Mr. Rumball and Townsend and their wives. After dinner, borne by water, and so to the office till night, and then I went forth, by appointment, to meet with Mr. Grant, who promised to meet me at the Coffee-house to bring me acquainted with Cooper the great limner in little, but they deceived me, and so I went home, and there sat at my lute and singing till almost twelve at night, and so to bed.
Sir Richd. Fanshaw is come suddenly from Portugall, but nobody knows what his business is.

so far from town
singing
till almost 12:00 at night


Erasure haiku derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Thursday 2 January 1661/62.

Posted on by Dave Bonta

Gambler’s wife

Waking this morning out of my sleep on a sudden, I did with my elbow hit my wife a great blow over her face and nose, which waked her with pain, at which I was sorry, and to sleep again.
Up and went forth with Sir W. Pen by coach towards Westminster, and in my way seeing that the “Spanish Curate” was acted today, I light and let him go alone, and I home again and sent to young Mr. Pen and his sister to go anon with my wife and I to the Theatre.
That done, Mr. W. Pen came to me and he and I walked out, and to the Stacioner’s, and looked over some pictures and maps for my house, and so home again to dinner, and by and by came the two young Pens, and after we had eat a barrel of oysters we went by coach to the play, and there saw it well acted, and a good play it is, only Diego the Sexton did overdo his part too much.
From thence home, and they sat with us till late at night at cards very merry, but the jest was Mr. W. Pen had left his sword in the coach, and so my boy and he run out after the coach, and by very great chance did at the Exchange meet with the coach and got his sword again.
So to bed.

her nose in sleep
is young again
late-night cards


Erasure haiku derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Wednesday 1 January 1661/62.

Posted on by Luisa A. Igloria

Beginnings

Distinct from the warm steam
in the shower: I can feel my breath.

*

Almost miraculous: how I never have to water
the orchid that hangs from the window-frame.

*

On our quiet street, dozens of leaf bags rest by the curb.
Rain of dry pine needles every time the wind gusts.

*

A Christmas tree on its side on the corner. Four
houses down, a string of lights kept on the porch all year.

*

My neighbor gets up at 4 to go to work at 5.
In the dark, orange glow of the check engine light.

*

I unwrap a small square of brittle: salty nut meat; then,
surprise of rosemary leaf entombed in the clear molasses.

*

After several bad connections and failed tries, finally
I talk with my 81 year old mother on the phone.

*

She is losing her hearing, but she says one thing over and over:
Don’t give up on anyone. Love your family. I want to kiss your face.

 

In response to an entry from the Morning Porch.