Poems & poem-like things – Page 2

November 29, 2025 by Dave Bonta

No novelty

Before I went to the office my wife’s brother did come to us, and we did instruct him to go to Gosnell’s and to see what the true matter is of her not coming, and whether she do intend to come or no, and so I to the office; and this morning come Sir G. Carteret to us (being the first time we have seen him since his coming from France): he tells us, that the silver which he received for Dunkirk did weigh 120,000 weight.
Here all the morning upon business, and at noon (not going home to dinner, though word was brought me that Will. Joyce was there, whom I had not seen at my house nor any where else these three or four months) with Mr. Coventry by his coach as far as Fleet Street, and there stepped into Madam Turner’s, where was told I should find my cozen Roger Pepys, and with him to the Temple, but not having time to do anything I went towards my Lord Sandwich’s. (In my way went into Captn. Cuttance’s coach, and with him to my Lord’s.) But the company not being ready I did slip down to Wilkinson’s, and having not eat any thing to-day did eat a mutton pie and drank, and so to my Lord’s, where my Lord and Mr. Coventry, Sir Wm. Darcy, one Mr. Parham (a very knowing and well-spoken man in this business), with several others, did meet about stating the business of the fishery, and the manner of the King’s giving of this 200l. to every man that shall set out a new-made English Busse by the middle of June next. In which business we had many fine pretty discourses; and I did here see the great pleasure to be had in discoursing of publique matters with men that are particularly acquainted with this or that business. Having come to some issue, wherein a motion of mine was well received, about sending these invitations from the King to all the fishing-ports in general, with limiting so many Busses to this, and that port, before we know the readiness of subscribers, we parted, and I walked home all the way, and having wrote a letter full of business to my father, in my way calling upon my cozen Turner and Mr. Calthrop at the Temple, for their consent to be my arbitrators, which they are willing to. My wife and I to bed pretty pleasant, for that her brother brings word that Gosnell, which my wife and I in discourse do pleasantly call our Marmotte, will certainly come next week without fail, which God grant may be for the best.

if we see the true
matter of a morning

we have seen that silver
go away

slip down into
the business of fish

and every new-made next
become some limit

Erasure haiku derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Saturday 29 November 1662. Prompted by

November 29, 2025November 29, 2025 by Luisa A. Igloria

Kindling

river in November light between bare woods and mountain

At the beginning of the holiday 
season, the 12 Days of Christmas 
plates come out of their Williams-
Sonoma box shaped like a rope 
tension drum. The song's a counting 
ritual: it starts with a bird 
in a fruit tree, adds on increments 
the sum of which supposedly equates 
to "true love:" turtledoves and 
domesticated fowl, golden rings, 
a jubilee of animal and human
antics and pastoral labor. It's also 
a counting down to the end of another 
year— how we've moved through space 
and time, how we sense the dark 
slip beyond the hills as we reach 
for a spark to kindle the broken twigs 
in the hearth; how the flame sputters 
as if catching its breath, before growing 
brighter and pouring out of itself.

November 28, 2025November 28, 2025 by Dave Bonta

At the end

A very hard frost; which is news to us after having none almost these three years. Up and to Ironmongers’ Hall by ten o’clock to the funeral of Sir Richard Stayner. Here we were, all the officers of the Navy, and my Lord Sandwich, who did discourse with us about the fishery, telling us of his Majesty’s resolution to give 200l. to every man that will set out a Busse; and advising about the effects of this encouragement, which will be a very great matter certainly. Here we had good rings, and by and by were to take coach; and I being got in with Mr. Creed into a four-horse coach, which they come and told us were only for the mourners, I went out, and so took this occasion to go home. Where I staid all day expecting Gosnell’s coming, but there came an excuse from her that she had not heard yet from her mother, but that she will come next week, which I wish she may, since I must keep one that I may have some pleasure therein.
So to my office till late writing out a copy of my uncle’s will, and so home and to bed.

after the funeral
a sandwich

courage will be
a horse for mourners
to go home on

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Friday 28 November 1662.

November 28, 2025 by Dave Bonta

Uncrowned

At my waking, I found the tops of the houses covered with snow, which is a rare sight, that I have not seen these three years.
Up, and put my people to perfect the cleaning of my house, and so to the office, where we sat till noon; and then we all went to the next house upon Tower Hill, to see the coming by of the Russia Embassador; for whose reception all the City trained-bands do attend in the streets, and the King’s life-guards, and most of the wealthy citizens in their black velvet coats, and gold chains (which remain of their gallantry at the King’s coming in), but they staid so long that we went down again home to dinner. And after I had dined, I heard they were coming, and so I walked to the Conduit in the Quarrefowr, at the end of Gracious-street and Cornhill; and there (the spouts thereof running very near me upon all the people that were under it) I saw them pretty well go by. I could not see the Embassador in his coach; but his attendants in their habits and fur caps very handsome, comely men, and most of them with hawkes upon their fists to present to the King. But Lord! to see the absurd nature of Englishmen, that cannot forbear laughing and jeering at every thing that looks strange.
So back and to the office, and there we met and sat till seven o’clock, making a bargain with Mr. Wood for his masts of New England; and then in Mr. Coventry’s coach to the Temple, but my cozen Roger Pepys not being at leisure to speak to me about my business, I presently walked home, and to my office till very late doing business, and so home, where I found my house more and more clear and in order, and hope in a day or two now to be in very good condition there and to my full content. Which God grant! So to supper and to bed.

king of the snow
I have not seen my hill

king in black velvet
coat and all

king of no hawks
jeering my ear full

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Thursday 27 November 1662.

November 28, 2025November 27, 2025 by Luisa A. Igloria

Marimo

Though they have the same plush, velvety look,
Marimo aren’t moss but a rare form of algae found

in freshwater lakes. Scientists say they're among 
the first plants to have moved from water to land 

over 500 million years ago, even outliving 
dinosaurs. No wonder they manage to stay alive 

for over a hundred years, though kept in glass bowls 
filled with water and a bed of smooth stones instead 

of out in the wild. The need for tangible softness 
must be a trait passed on from one generation

to the next: somehow, part of the strategy for
surviving extremity— the open hand allowing

for flow in ways that a clenched fist 
would not. Take kissing— mouth to mouth 

contact not only for the purpose of passing 
or masticating food— and how there’s evidence

neanderthals and humans kissed. And moss 
spores taken into space, with little to no direct 

contact with light, not only surviving but 
germinating after returning to earth.

November 27, 2025November 27, 2025 by Luisa A. Igloria

More than the Leaving

I was drinking my coffee when I felt
a familiar sensation— do you know it?
Like being naked but not exactly, 
just because I forgot to put on 
my favorite earrings. At the same time, 
I remembered where I'd left them: 
on the counter in my hotel room just
before I checked out at 3 in the morning,
anxious about Thanksgiving traffic and lines.  
They were a pair of gold-colored, simple 
circlets mounted on a stud. I am good 
at remembering, but after the moment I was 
supposed to remember. Maybe 6 years ago now, 
I bought those earrings in the Portland 
airport coming back from a writing conference. 
33 years ago I remember waking my daughters 
so they could see me off at my departure 
from another airport. I did not have the heart
to wake the youngest, a toddler, from the depths 
of heavy, blissful sleep. I hope they remember 
things like this, more than the leaving.

November 27, 2025 by Dave Bonta

Quiet time

In the morning to the Temple to my cozen Roger, who now desires that I would excuse him from arbitrating, he not being able to stand for me as he would do, without appearing too high against my uncle Thomas, which will raise his clamour. With this I am very well pleased, for I did desire it, and so I shall choose other counsel.
Thence home, he being busy that I could not speak more with him. All day long till twelve o’clock at night getting my house in order, my wife putting up the red hangings and bed in her woman’s chamber, and I my books and all other matters in my chamber and study, which is now very pretty. So to bed.

in the morning
no clamor with a clock

at night in my books
I study snow

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Wednesday 26 November 1662.

November 26, 2025November 26, 2025 by Luisa A. Igloria

Trousseau

 
I heard someone say torch, and recalled
my friend's story about how, when her sister

was married, her new husband gathered all
her underwear and threw it into the fire.

This was supposed to show how his passion
for her meant all other loves before him

were to be incinerated. Some words eclipse 
others in the wake of their arrival.

She received new ones, cotton and silk, 
handpicked by him. There are other ways 

in which partnerships become proclamations—
a binding with rings, an annexation with names. 

What did our mothers surrender besides what fell 
away like leaves, like trees stripped of bark.

November 25, 2025 by Dave Bonta

Making do

Up and to the office all the morning, and at noon with the rest, by Mr. Holy, the ironmonger’s invitation, to the Dolphin, to a venison pasty, very good, and rare at this time of the year, and thence by coach with Mr. Coventry as far as the Temple, and thence to Greatorex’s, where I staid and talked with him, and got him to mend my pocket ruler for me, and so by coach to my Lord’s lodging, where I sat with Mr. Moore by appointment, making up accounts for my Lord Sandwich, which done he and I and Capt. Ferrers and W. Howe very merry a good while in the great dining room, and so it being late and my Lord not coming in, I by coach to the Temple, and thence walked home, and so to my study to do some business, and then home and to bed.
Great talk among people how some of the Fanatiques do say that the end of the world is at hand, and that next Tuesday is to be the day. Against which, whenever it shall be, good God fit us all.

in a holy time of year
I mend my pocket
and walk home

people say the end
of the world shall
befit us

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Tuesday 25 November 1662.

November 25, 2025November 25, 2025 by Luisa A. Igloria

Time Travel

While I can still make out the figures in the grainy
print, I call them again to the surface. Life
is long, so love might outlast the distance. 

You bend over me seated in a shiny red tricycle, 
eager for the novelty of this kind of motion. Life
is long, and I'm eager to speed up the distance.

I still feel your hand on my back. A cool morning 
in our northern hills, you in a slim sheath skirt. Life's
long fringes in the pines, love a hazy plume in the distance. 

Daughter-mother-daughter: links in a chain that keeps
going. I can go faster, but must pedal harder. Life
is long; perhaps love will outlast the distance.

Every now and then my sealed heart's pried open— 
a tomb I want to walk out of, toward the light. Life
is long, promising love will outlast the distance.