Purveyors of fine poetry since 2003.
A woman tends a garden
filled with a great variety of roses.
Climbing or opening, each of their
names is a poem.
The walkway is trellised
with braided boughs.
In another garden, a fig tree
towers next to a persimmon.
They have secret names, too:
crow-feathered poems.
Mystery's the answer
to what I can't explain.
Moss thickens like ache
among islands of grass.
All the morning at home about business. At noon to the Temple, where I staid and looked over a book or two at Playford’s, and then to the Theatre, where I saw a piece of “The Silent Woman,” which pleased me. So homewards, and in my way bought “The Bondman” in Paul’s Churchyard, and so home, where I found all clean, and the hearth and range, as it is now enlarged, set up, which pleases me very much.
all morning in a book
and then to my yard
where I found the earth
enlarged
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Saturday 25 May 1661.
Among the things
that are hardest to forget,
one is the feel of a small
mouth latching.
Why can't I remember what
it felt like with my own mouth
around that which pulled
me into the world?
At home all the morning making up my private accounts, and this is the first time that I do find myself to be clearly worth 500l. in money, besides all my goods in my house, &c.
In the afternoon at the office late, and then I went to the Wardrobe, where I found my Lord at supper, and therefore I walked a good while till he had done, and I went in to him, and there he looked over my accounts. And they were committed to Mr. Moore to see me paid what remained due to me. Then down to the kitchen to eat a bit of bread and butter, which I did, and there I took one of the maids by the chin, thinking her to be Susan, but it proved to be her sister, who is very like her.
From thence home.
my private war at supper
on a bit of bread
and butter which I took
on the chin
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Friday 24 May 1661.
More often now,
it glimmers—scroll
of a sky unfurling
its banner overhead.
And I, on a boat,
borne by the current.
Overhead banner
of the sky unfurling,
scroll of glimmering.
More often now.
This day I went to my Lord, and about many other things at Whitehall, and there made even my accounts with Mr. Shepley at my Lord’s, and then with him and Mr. Moore and John Bowles to the Rhenish wine house, and there came Jonas Moore, the mathematician, to us, and there he did by discourse make us fully believe that England and France were once the same continent, by very good arguments, and spoke very many things, not so much to prove the Scripture false as that the time therein is not well computed nor understood. From thence home by water, and there shift ed myself into my black silk suit (the first day I have put it on this year), and so to my Lord Mayor’s by coach, with a great deal of honourable company, and great entertainment.
At table I had very good discourse with Mr. Ashmole, wherein he did assure me that frogs and many insects do often fall from the sky, ready formed.
Dr. Bates’s singularity in not rising up nor drinking the King’s nor other healths at the table was very much observed.
From thence we all took coach, and to our office, and there sat till it was late.
And so I home and to bed by day-light. This day was kept a holy-day through the town; and it pleased me to see the little boys walk up and down in procession with their broom–staffs in their hands, as I had myself long ago gone.
the Lord and I were once
the same continent
where frogs and insects
often fall from the sky
ready for our holy
procession with brooms
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Thursday 23 May 1661.
Out of a dream,
I woke into melancholy.
A doorway was sealed
with spider webs—
A tomb to enter,
a stone to roll away?
Weak light washing
the feet of morning.
To Westminster, and there missed of my Lord, and so about noon I and W. Howe by water to the Wardrobe, where my Lord and all the officers of the Wardrobe dined, and several other friends of my Lord, at a venison pasty. Before dinner, my Lady Wright and my Lady Jem. sang songs to the harpsicon.
Very pleasant and merry at dinner. And then I went away by water to the office, and there staid till it was late. At night before I went to bed the barber came to trim me and wash me, and so to bed, in order to my being clean to-morrow.
war where the soft
end in a song
water to ice
night to ash
order to a row
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Wednesday 22 May 1661.
Finally, after five summers,
white buds on the persimmon tree.
Soon, perhaps flowers
will turn into fruit.
Soon, we will bite
into their ripe bodies
as if they were the first
or the last.
Up early, and, with Sir R. Slingsby (and Major Waters the deaf gentleman, his friend, for company’s sake) to the Victualling-office (the first time that I ever knew where it was), and there staid while he read a commission for enquiry into some of the King’s lands and houses thereabouts, that are given his brother. And then we took boat to Woolwich, where we staid and gave order for the fitting out of some more ships presently. And then to Deptford, where we staid and did the same; and so took barge again, and were overtaken by the King in his barge, he having been down the river with his yacht this day for pleasure to try it; and, as I hear, Commissioner Pett’s do prove better than the Dutch one, and that that his brother built.
While we were upon the water, one of the greatest showers of rain fell that ever I saw.
The Comptroller and I landed with our barge at the Temple, and from thence I went to my father’s, and there did give order about some clothes to be made, and did buy a new hat, cost between 20 and 30 shillings, at Mr. Holden’s. So home.
with water for company’s sake
I miss the boat
and taken in a yacht
I miss the water
a shower of rain fell
from my new hat
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Tuesday 21 May 1661.