Cutting back

(Twelfth day). Up and to my office, where very busy all the morning, being indeed over loaded with it through my own desire of doing all I can. At noon to the ‘Change, but did little, and so home to dinner with my poor wife, and after dinner read a lecture to her in Geography, which she takes very prettily and with great pleasure to her and me to teach her, and so to the office again, where as busy as ever in my life, one thing after another, and answering people’s business, particularly drawing up things about Mr. Wood’s masts, which I expect to have a quarrel about with Sir W. Batten before it be ended, but I care not. At night home to my wife, to supper, discourse, prayers, and to bed.
This morning I began a practice which I find by the ease I do it with that I shall continue, it saving me money and time; that is, to trimme myself with a razer: which pleases me mightily.

where in the geography
of busy people’s prayers
to find ease

I shall continue saving time
that self-razor


Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Wednesday 6 January 1663/64.

Distraction

Up and to our office, where we sat all the morning, where my head being willing to take in all business whatever, I am afraid I shall over clogg myself with it. But however, it is my desire to do my duty and shall the willinger bear it. At noon home and to the ‘Change, where I met with Luellin, who went off with me and parted to meet again at the Coffeehouse, but missed. So home and found him there, and Mr. Barrow came to speak with me, so they both dined with me alone, my wife not being ready, and after dinner I up in my chamber with Barrow to discourse about matters of the yard with him, and his design of leaving the place, which I am sorry for, and will prevent if I can.
He being gone then Luellin did give me the 50l. from Mr. Deering, which he do give me for my pains in his business and what I may hereafter take for him, though there is not the least word or deed I have yet been guilty of in his behalf but what I am sure has been to the King’s advantage and the profit of the service, nor ever will. And for this money I never did condition with him or expected a farthing at the time when I did do him the service, nor have given any receipt for it, it being brought me by Luellin, nor do purpose to give him any thanks for it, but will wherein I can faithfully endeavour to see him have the privilege of his Patent as the King’s merchant. I did give Luellin two pieces in gold for a pair of gloves for his kindness herein.
Then he being gone, I to my office, where busy till late at night, that through my room being over confounded in business I could stay there no longer, but went home, and after a little supper to bed.

I clog myself with desire
and miss the peak

alone in my barrow
I endeavor to see
give two loves for one
late-night stay


Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Tuesday 5 January 1663/64.

Nocturne

Fog. Rain taps on the roof.
Someone says, it is the fingers

of our dead trying to remember
what it was like when cold

still touched them. Inside,
we sit huddled around the table.

When we long for moonlight we heat
small puddles of milk in mugs.

Why do we call it midnight
when no one knows what it is

that darkness cleaves
so one part falls

and the other,
falls away from?

 

In response to an entry from the Morning Porch.

Impossible task

It is impossible
because you cannot love it,
and yet you must do it.
How can you love it

when it asks of you
the impossible— To bring
water in a sieve, braid
a rope out of ashes,

carry fire or wind
in a paper house?
Last but not least,
and not always in the fine

print: to rip out your heart
or skewer it, return it
to its place, then
do it over again.

Antoinette

Up betimes, and my wife being ready, and her mayd Besse and the girl, I carried them by coach and set them all down in Covent Garden and there left them, and I to my Lord Sandwich’s lodgings, but he not being up, I to the Duke’s chamber, and there by and by to his closett, where since his lady was ill, a little red bed of velvet is brought for him to lie alone, which is a very pretty one. After doing business here, I to my Lord’s again, and there spoke with him, and he seems now almost friends again as he used to be. Here meeting Mr. Pierce, the chyrurgeon, he told me among other Court newes, how the Queene is very well again, and the King lay with her on Saturday night last; and that she speaks now very pretty English, and makes her sense out now and then with pretty phrazes: as among others this is mightily cried up; that, meaning to say that she did not like such a horse so well as the rest, he being too prancing and full of tricks, she said he did make too much vanity. Thence to the Tennis Court, after I had spent a little time in Westminster Hall, thinking to have met with Mrs. Lane, but I could not and am glad of it, and there saw the King play at Tennis and others: but to see how the King’s play was extolled without any cause at all, was a loathsome sight, though sometimes, indeed, he did play very well and deserved to be commended; but such open flattery is beastly. Afterwards to St. James’s Parke, being unwilling to go to spend money at the ordinary, and there spent an hour or two, it being a pleasant day, seeing people play at Pell Mell; where it pleased me mightily to hear a gallant, lately come from France, swear at one of his companions for suffering his man (a spruce blade) to be so saucy as to strike a ball while his master was playing on the Mall. Thence took coach at White Hall and took up my wife, who is mighty sad to think of her father, who is going into Germany against the Turkes; but what will become of her brother I know not. He is so idle, and out of all capacity, I think, to earn his bread.
Home and at my office till 12 at night making my solemn vowes for the next year, which I trust in the Lord I shall keep, but I fear I have a little too severely bound myself in some things and in too many, for I fear I may forget some. But however, I know the worst, and shall by the blessing of God observe to perform or pay my forfeits punctually. So home and to bed with my mind at rest.

her own garden left her
to her red bed of velvet

the queen pretty as a horse
and full of time

the sight of a blade is sad
to the idle bread


Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Monday 4 January 1663/64.

Decline

Why does the flesh of this peach
just yesterday so perfumed and perfect
now look like a small purse collapsing
into itself, and beginning to darken

to a shade reminiscent of sepia
on the table? Perhaps the warm
yellow wedge of light falling
so picturesquely on the bowl

of fruit through the half-moon
windowpane set into the kitchen door
has something to do with its too rapid
onset of decline. Perhaps, and this

is likely, it was on its way there anyway,
despite our good intentions now thwarted:
in other words, our intentions to take it
in all its glorious readiness, to slice it

into a bowl at the peak of sugary firmness.
And having ingested all of it, skin and flesh,
down to the pit, don’t we customarily sit back
and say its purpose has been most sweetly

fulfilled? Which is to say,
what it comes down to as the measure
of experience is mostly and still
our own: assortment of little yardsticks

against which the mercurial universe
schools us about accretion… So this slowly
wrinkling globe becomes differently endearing:
how unlike a hard, bright abacus bead

it wants to be; how it seems instead
to want to be cupped in its loosening
garment; to be held and only regarded
as if in remembrance before its dissolve.

 

In response to Via Negativa: Ministry of truth.

Ice Mountain: the videopoem

Belgian artist and musician Marc Neys A.K.A. Swoon is one of the most original makers of videopoetry (AKA poetry film) in the world, and when he offered to make a book trailer for Ice Mountain, I was thrilled. However, I think you’ll agree that the video he produced is much more than a mere trailer — it’s an original creation in its own right. I supplied most of the footage, but the choice of what to use and how to mix it was all his. He asked me to record a montage of lines and stanzas from the book, which he let me pick, then chose additional lines to display as text-on-screen. The music, which he composed first (and asked me to comment on before finalizing) guided the composition of the video.

Ice Mountain: An Elegy is due out on January 25. If you missed my earlier post, here’s the back-story. And if you’d like a further sample of the contents, I’ve posted a section at DaveBonta.com. (I still feel faintly ridiculous typing that URL!)

Ministry of Truth

(Lord’s day). Lay long in bed, and then rose and with a fire in my chamber staid within all day, looking over and settling my accounts in good order, by examining all my books, and the kitchen books, and I find that though the proper profit of my last year was but 305l., yet I did by other gain make it up 444l., which in every part of it was unforeseen of me, and therefore it was a strange oversight for lack of examining my expenses that I should spend 690l. this year, but for the time to come I have so distinctly settled all my accounts in writing and the particulars of all my several layings out, that I do hope I shall hereafter make a better judgment of my spendings than ever. I dined with my wife in her chamber, she in bed, and then down again and till 11 at night, and broke up and to bed with great content, but could not make an end of writing over my vows as I purposed, but I am agreed in every thing how to order myself for the year to come, which I trust in God will be much for my good. So up to prayers and to bed.
This evening Sir W. Pen came to invite me against next Wednesday, being Twelfth day, to his usual feast, his wedding day.

a fire looking
in all the books

re-writing the endings to make
an end of writing

how to order myself
for the year to come


Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Sunday 3 January 1663/64.

Self-abnegation

Up and to the office, and there sitting all the morning, and at noon to the ‘Change, in my going met with Luellin and told him how I had received a letter and bill for 50l. from Mr. Deering, and delivered it to him, which he told me he would receive for me. To which I consented, though professed not to desire it if he do not consider himself sufficiently able by the service I have done, and that it is rather my desire to have nothing till he be further sensible of my service. From the ‘Change I brought him home and dined with us, and after dinner I took my wife out, for I do find that I am not able to conquer myself as to going to plays till I come to some new vowe concerning it, and that I am now come, that is to say, that I will not see above one in a month at any of the publique theatres till the sum of 50s. be spent, and then none before New Year’s Day next, unless that I do become worth 1000l. sooner than then, and then am free to come to some other terms, and so leaving him in Lombard Street I took her to the King’s house, and there met Mr. Nicholson, my old colleague, and saw “The Usurper,” which is no good play, though better than what I saw yesterday. However, we rose unsatisfied, and took coach and home, and I to the office late writing letters, and so to supper and to bed.

to live sufficiently
is to have nothing to find
myself in

I will not see in any theater
a play better than what
I let be


Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Saturday 2 January 1663/64.

Recall

~ “everything changes, nothing is lost,” Katie Griersar (2014)

Look at their faces in the box
of old photographs— how young

and thin, and already with child;
how slender in loose second-hand

flannels, how vaguely sweet
the eyes not filled yet with any

knowledge of great shift or harm.
And here, his arm around her waist,

her neck caught in the moment after
tremor. There was a rainstorm that swept

every tin roof clean. A wind that set
the chimes in someone’s yard to beating;

a rivulet that swelled with water.
Now she can put them back without anger.

She can pass a mirror in a hallway
without turning completely away.