Sequestered

This entry is part 26 of 26 in the series Une Semaine de Bonté

 

Page 26 of Max Ernst’s Une Semaine de Bonté

give a breast
to the best beast

feast in a fetid nest
on the flesh of mushroom

like every clever hypha
cleave to a root

shoot up with chlorophyll
leave everything to bees

Pawn

Sam Pepys and me

All the morning almost at home, seeing my stairs finished by the painters, which pleases me well. So with Mr. Moore to Westminster Hall, it being term, and then by water to the Wardrobe, where very merry, and so home to the office all the afternoon, and at night to the Exchange to my uncle Wight about my intention of purchasing at Brampton. So back again home and at night to bed.
Thanks be to God I am very well again of my late pain, and to-morrow hope to be out of my pain of dirt and trouble in my house, of which I am now become very weary.
One thing I must observe here while I think of it, that I am now become the most negligent man in the world as to matters of news, insomuch that, now-a-days, I neither can tell any, nor ask any of others.

morning is war
and the office all out of dirt

I become a thing
I must observe

in a world of news
I neither can tell nor ask


Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Wednesday 19 June 1661.

Outside-in

This entry is part 25 of 26 in the series Une Semaine de Bonté

 

Page 25 of Max Ernst’s Une Semaine de Bonté

At a certain level of complexity, the wild and the civilized may appear to merge. Both seethe; neither is a shadow of the other. Call it cohabitat.

rag rug uncoiling a python

Counterinsurgency

Sam Pepys and me

All this morning at home vexing about the delay of my painters, and about four in the afternoon my wife and I by water to Captain Lambert’s, where we took great pleasure in their turret-garden, and seeing the fine needle-works of his wife, the best I ever saw in my life, and afterwards had a very handsome treat and good musique that she made upon the harpsicon, and with a great deal of pleasure staid till 8 at night, and so home again, there being a little pretty witty child that is kept in their house that would not let us go without her, and so fell a-crying by the water-side. So home, where I met Jack Cole, who staid with me a good while, and is still of the old good humour that we were of at school together, and I am very glad to see him. He gone, I went to bed.

captain in the turret
the needle of his war

a child that fell crying
is still

the hum of school
gone


Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Tuesday 18 June 1661.

Poetry Blog Digest 2024, Week 24

Poetry Blogging Network

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: a floating typewriter, a poet in a lighthouse, bombing the moon, marble peaches, the hum of our own truth, and more. Enjoy.

Continue reading “Poetry Blog Digest 2024, Week 24”

Dark canvas

Sam Pepys and me

Visited this morning by my old friend Mr. Ch. Carter, who staid and went to Westminster with me, and there we parted, and I to the Wardrobe and dined with my Lady. So home to my painters, who are now about painting my stairs. So to the office, and at night we all went to Sir W. Pen’s, and there sat and drank till 11 at night, and so home and to bed.

is my art an art
to war with

a painter painting the night
all night


Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Monday 17 June 1661.

The Comeback Kid

This entry is part 24 of 26 in the series Une Semaine de Bonté

 

Page 24 of Max Ernst’s Une semaine de bonté

I am too tired for amazement
at the way I’ve been played:
once lionized as a prize ram,
now cracked as old leather.
On a board stippled with pins,
the only move is all fall down.
They’ve pinned a six-pointed
star to my chest. If it’s the first
you’ve seen so far, make a wish!
The googly-eyed olives
in the hors d’oeuvres tray
are tracking your every move.

Bipolar

Sam Pepys and me

(Lord’s day). But no purser coming in the morning for them, and I hear that the Duke went last night, and so I am at a great loss what to do; and so this day (though the Lord’s day) staid at home, sending Will up and down to know what to do. Sometimes thinking to continue my resolution of sending by the carrier to be at Deal on Wednesday next, sometimes to send them by sea by a vessel on purpose, but am not yet come to a resolution, but am at a very great loss and trouble in mind what in the world to do herein. The afternoon (while Will was abroad) I spent in reading “The Spanish Gypsey,” a play not very good, though commended much. At night resolved to hire a Margate Hoy, who would go away to-morrow morning, which I did, and sent the things all by him, and put them on board about 12 this night, hoping to have them as the wind now serves in the Downs to-morrow night.
To-bed with some quiet of mind, having sent the things away.

day coming in the night
I am up and down

sometimes at sea
a trouble in mind

would go away on the wind
in the quiet of things


Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Sunday 16 June 1661.

Bubbly

This entry is part 23 of 26 in the series Une Semaine de Bonté

 

Page 23 of Max Ernst’s Une semaine de bonté

Everyone is in a bubble
but me—a toast!

To more of the bubbly elixir.
Because here at Bubble, Incorporated,

our main product is you: your trove
of data. Your special snow globe

waiting to be disrupted.
Every thought bubble

from your comic strippers.
But as king of the beasts, I’m afraid

I must insist on my prerogative
of the first pinprick.

Indigent

Sam Pepys and me

My father came and drank his morning draft with me, and sat with me till I was ready, and so he and I about the business of the cloth. By and by I left him and went and dined with my Lady, who, now my Lord is gone, is come to her poor housekeeping again. Then to my father’s, who tells me what he has done, and we resolved upon two pieces of scarlet, two of purple, and two of black, and 50l. in linen.
I home, taking 300l. with me home from Alderman Backwell’s. After writing to my Lord to let him know what I had done I was going to bed, but there coming the purser of the King’s yacht for victualls presently, for the Duke of York is to go down to-morrow, I got him to promise stowage for these things there, and so I went to bed, bidding Will go and fetch the things from the carrier’s hither, which about 12 o’clock were brought to my house and laid there all night.

in the poorhouse
who tells what he has

one scar of purple
and two of black

a line in writing
a promise to go


Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Saturday 15 June 1661.