Poems & poem-like things – Page 180

August 13, 2023 by Dave Bonta

Misfit

A sitting day at our office. After dinner to Whitehall; to the Privy Seal, whither my father came to me, and staid talking with me a great while, telling me that he had propounded Mr. John Pickering for Sir Thomas Honywood’s daughter, which I think he do not deserve for his own merit: I know not what he may do for his estate.
My father and Creed and I to the old Rhenish Winehouse, and talked and drank till night. Then my father home, and I to my Lord’s; where he told me that he would suddenly go into the country, and so did commend the business of his sea commission to me in his absence. After that home by coach, and took my 100l. that I had formerly left at Mr. Rawlinson’s, home with me, which is the first that ever I was master of at once. To prayers, and to bed.

sitting in the woods
which I do not know

my country is absence
my home is a prayer

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Monday 13 August 1660.

August 12, 2023 by Dave Bonta

Drawing a blank

Lord’s day. To my Lord, and with him to White Hall Chappell, where Mr. Calamy preached, and made a good sermon upon these words “To whom much is given, of him much is required.” He was very officious with his three reverences to the King, as others do. After sermon a brave anthem of Captain Cooke’s, which he himself sung, and the King was well pleased with it. My Lord dined at my Lord Chamberlain’s, and I at his house with Mr. Sheply. After dinner I did give Mr. Donne, who is going to sea, the key of my cabin and direction for the putting up of my things. After that I went to walk, and meeting Mrs. Lane of Westminster Hall, I took her to my Lord’s, and did give her a bottle of wine in the garden, where Mr. Fairbrother, of Cambridge, did come and found us, and drank with us.
After that I took her to my house, where I was exceeding free in dallying with her, and she not unfree to take it.
At night home and called at my father’s, where I found Mr. Fairbrother, but I did not stay but went homewards and called in at Mr. Rawlinson’s, whither my uncle Wight was coming and did come, but was exceeding angry (he being a little fuddled, and I think it was that I should see him in that case) as I never saw him in my life, which I was somewhat troubled at. Home and to bed.

white words
given to the king of cooks

sung in the key of D
to a bottle of wine

exceed me and my
fair wards

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Sunday 12 August 1660.

August 12, 2023August 12, 2023 by Luisa A. Igloria

Rooms

river in November light between bare woods and mountain

In one, we' ve pushed the piano by the front window.
No one plays it much these days, because it isn't tuned. We put
some small potted plants on its top; the light touches them just enough.

Under the eaves: boxes of envelopes and cards collected over the years.
I know which one contains the letter that everyone has been telling me
to burn. Every time I take it out to read I am reduced to despair.

The stairs: most wooden balusters are loose. They swivel
or lift slightly at the base, not completely making the connection.
The handrail is the only thing that keeps them in place.

Heart-shaped leaves press against a north facing window. I moved
the full-length mirror to the outer edge of one wall so in bed,
at night, we don't directly face that portal between worlds.

When I am gone, who will use the pottery fired a cloudy
celadon green, in which the ashes from a volcano have bonded into
the shape of an open mouth, a shallow basin, a vessel to slake thirst?

August 11, 2023August 11, 2023 by Luisa A. Igloria

Body Language

When they go to sleep
at this point in their lives,
facing away from each other
doesn't necessarily mean
a quarrel. Draping a hand
over the other's hand, 
a leg over the other's leg, 
doesn't necessarily mean
prelude to the old games
of search and rescue.
Like anyone else, they are tired
from the exertions of a work
day. Like anyone else, they know
how a pulse quickens, how heat
flushes through the courseways
of the body. On weekends, 
they know how to turn
off the alarm that rouses them 
from sleep so early on weekdays.

August 11, 2023 by Dave Bonta

Survivor

I rose to-day without any pain, which makes me think that my pain yesterday was nothing but from my drinking too much the day before.
To my Lord this morning, who did give me order to get some things ready against the afternoon for the Admiralty where he would meet. To the Privy Seal, and from thence going to my own house in Axeyard, I went in to Mrs. Crisp’s, where I met with Mr. Hartlibb; for whom I wrote a letter for my Lord to sign for a ship for his brother and sister, who went away hence this day to Gravesend, and from thence to Holland. I found by discourse with Mrs. Crisp that he is very jealous of her, for that she is yet very kind to her old servant Meade. Hence to my Lord’s to dinner with Mr. Sheply, so to the Privy Seal; and at night home, and then sent for the barber, and was trimmed in the kitchen, the first time that ever I was so. I was vexed this night that W. Hewer was out of doors till ten at night but was pretty well satisfied again when my wife told me that he wept because I was angry, though indeed he did give me a good reason for his being out; but I thought it a good occasion to let him know that I do expect his being at home. So to bed.

I make nothing but order
a crisp art

the grave is a kind of door
to use for being

but I go on
being me

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Saturday 11 August 1660.

August 10, 2023August 10, 2023 by Luisa A. Igloria

Flying, Falling

"...all joy wants eternity."
                            ~ Nietzsche


There's always an occasion
at which someone asks: given
a second chance at life, what 
would you change, or would you 
do it over again, the same way 

twice? Would you listen 
to your father's warnings 
about the temperature at which 
wax and honey will melt, or flex 
your new wings anyway

toward the sun's gold shine?
I teach that poem often, paired
with the equally famous painting
where everything in the landscape
seems to turn away from tragedy.

Is this refusal to witness deliberate?
Farmer, plowman, that guy angling 
for fish at the edge of the water; 
and surely that ship wasn't on 
autopilot—how do they not whip 

their heads around at the sound 
of a body hitting open water? 
How could they not see what was right 
in front of their eyes, when all the boy
wanted, even while plummeting from 

his grey prison and from such a height, 
was that rich embroidery of green 
and blue soaked in sunshine, the chain-
stitched fields, the sheep like tufts  
of French knots studding the hill.

August 10, 2023 by Dave Bonta

Jonah redux

I had a great deal of pain all night, and a great looseness upon me so that I could not sleep. In the morning I rose with much pain and to the office. I went and dined at home, and after dinner with great pain in my back I went by water to Whitehall to the Privy Seal, and that done with Mr. Moore and Creed to Hide Park by coach, and saw a fine foot-race three times round the Park between an Irishman and Crow, that was once my Lord Claypoole’s footman. (By the way I cannot forget that my Lord Claypoole did the other day make enquiry of Mrs. Hunt, concerning my House in Axe-yard, and did set her on work to get it of me for him, which methinks is a very great change.) Crow beat the other by above two miles.
Returned from Hide Park, I went to my Lord’s, and took Will (who waited for me there) by coach and went home, taking my lute home with me. It had been all this while since I came from sea at my Lord’s for him to play on. To bed in some pain still.
For this month or two it is not imaginable how busy my head has been, so that I have neglected to write letters to my uncle Robert in answer to many of his, and to other friends, nor indeed have I done anything as to my own family, and especially this month my waiting at the Privy Seal makes me much more unable to think of anything, because of my constant attendance there after I have done at the Navy Office. But blessed be God for my good chance of the Privy Seal, where I get every day I believe about 3l.. This place I got by chance, and my Lord did give it me by chance, neither he nor I thinking it to be of the worth that he and I find it to be.
Never since I was a man in the world was I ever so great a stranger to public affairs as now I am, having not read a news-book or anything like it, or enquiring after any news, or what the Parliament do, or in any wise how things go. Many people look after my house in Axe-yard to hire it, so that I am troubled with them, and I have a mind to get the money to buy goods for my house at the Navy Office, and yet I am loth to put it off because that Mr. Man bids me 1000l. for my office, which is so great a sum that I am loth to settle myself at my new house, lest I should take Mr. Man’s offer in case I found my Lord willing to it.

asleep in the park
a crow that was once clay

thinks for me
some imaginable answer

to a god I believe
to be a stranger

having read a book like an axe
that bled

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Friday 10 August 1660.

August 9, 2023 by Dave Bonta

Wine-darkness

Left my wife at Mrs. Hunt’s and I to my Lord’s, and from thence with judge Advocate Fowler, Mr. Creed, and Mr. Sheply to the Rhenish Wine-house, and Captain Hayward of the Plymouth, who is now ordered to carry my Lord Winchelsea, Embassador to Constantinople. We were very merry, and judge Advocate did give Captain Hayward his Oath of Allegiance and Supremacy. Thence to my office of Privy Seal, and, having signed some things there, with Mr. Moore and Dean Fuller to the Leg in King Street, and, sending for my wife, we dined there very merry, and after dinner, parted. After dinner with my wife to Mrs. Blackburne to visit her. She being within I left my wife there, and I to the Privy Seal, where I despatch some business, and from thence to Mrs. Blackburne again, who did treat my wife and me with a great deal of civility, and did give us a fine collation of collar of beef, &c.
Thence I, having my head full of drink from having drunk so much Rhenish wine in the morning, and more in the afternoon at Mrs. Blackburne’s, came home and so to bed, not well, and very ill all night.

an owl in the mouth
red captain

of the sea within the sea
head full of drink

from having drunk
so much more night

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Thursday 9 August 1660.

August 8, 2023 by Dave Bonta

A Slowdown

We met at the office, and after that to dinner at home, and from thence with my wife by water to Catau Sterpin, with whom and her mistress Pye we sat discoursing of Kate’s marriage to Mons. Petit, her mistress and I giving the best advice we could for her to suspend her marriage till Mons. Petit had got some place that may be able to maintain her, and not for him to live upon the portion that she shall bring him. From thence to Mr. Butler’s to see his daughters, the first time that ever we made a visit to them. We found them very pretty, and Coll. Dillon there, a very merry and witty companion, but methinks they live in a gaudy but very poor condition. From thence, my wife and I intending to see Mrs. Blackburne, who had been a day or two again to see my wife, but my wife was not in condition to be seen, but she not being at home my wife went to her mother’s and I to the Privy Seal. At night from the Privy Seal, Mr. Woodson and Mr. Jennings and I to the Sun Tavern till it was late, and from thence to my Lord’s, where my wife was come from Mrs. Blackburne’s to me, and after I had done some business with my Lord, she and I went to Mrs. Hunt’s, who would needs have us to lie at her house to-night, she being with my wife so late at my Lord’s with us, and would not let us go home to-night.
We lay there all night very pleasantly and at ease, I taking my pleasure with my wife in the morning, being the first time after her being eased of her pain.

if a cat is in
the best place to sit

and mother the sun
till it burns

I need to be
taking my time

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Wednesday 8 August 1660.

August 7, 2023August 7, 2023 by Luisa A. Igloria

Theory of Departure

Four days of deep sleep, hardly any intake
                      except for what comes through a tube
into her veins—

                      and so when she opens her eyes 
and asks for water it seems nearly  
                      miraculous— 

Intermittently, she calls out to presences.
                     Now, her carers say, she says she wants 
to leave already—

                      She is cocooned into herself,
adrift in a sea of bedclothes.
                      They tempt her with pureed cereal,

sips of warm milk. Only a few mouthfuls.
                      She is working harder at the mystery
of her own going—