Via Negativa

September 22, 2024September 20, 2024 by Luisa A. Igloria

All the morning pleasing myself with my father, going up and down the house and garden with my father and my wife, contriving some alterations. After dinner (there coming this morning my aunt Hanes and her son from London, that is to live with my father) I rode to Huntingdon, where I met Mr. Philips, and there put my Bugden matter in order against the Court, and so to Hinchingbroke, where Mr. Barnwell shewed me the condition of the house, which is yet very backward, and I fear will be very dark in the cloyster when it is done. So home and to supper and to bed, very pleasant and quiet.

going up and down the garden
coming to live with me a bug

the barn is backward

I fear the quiet

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Saturday 21 September 1661.

September 21, 2024September 19, 2024 by Luisa A. Igloria

Horn of Plenty

river in November light between bare woods and mountain

(Craterellus cornucopioides)


These are not trumpets cast
in the throats of the dead
who've lent their stores 
of calcium to the soil.

No flourish or fanfare
heralds the turning 
of the season, but the moon
lays her pewter dish on the table.

Can you see it where you are;
can't you see it isn't a mirror? 
Even I am guilty of magnifying 
every dust-mote of sorrow.

I can't bring back what's lost
or what chose to go away. Sometimes
I can only bring one thing into focus
but that, too, can be a kind of joy.

September 20, 2024 by Dave Bonta

At law

Will Stankes and I set out in the morning betimes for Gravely, where to an ale-house and drank, and then, going towards the Court House, met my uncle Thomas and his son Thomas, with Bradly, the rogue that had betrayed us, and one Young, a cunning fellow, who guides them. There passed no unkind words at all between us, but I seemed fair and went to drink with them. I said little till by and by that we come to the Court, which was a simple meeting of a company of country rogues, with the Steward, and two Fellows of Jesus College, that are lords of the town where the jury were sworn; and I producing no surrender, though I told them I was sure there is and must be one somewhere, they found my uncle Thomas heir at law, as he is, and so, though I did tell him and his son that they would find themselves abused by these fellows, and did advise them to forbear being admitted this Court (which they could have done, but that these rogues did persuade them to do it now), my uncle was admitted, and his son also, in reversion after his father, which he did well in to secure his money. The father paid a year and a half for his fine, and the son half a year, in all 48l., besides about 3l. fees; so that I do believe the charges of his journeys, and what he gives those two rogues, and other expenses herein, cannot be less than 70l., which will be a sad thing for them if a surrender be found.
After all was done, I openly wished them joy in it, and so rode to Offord with them and there parted fairly without any words. I took occasion to bid them money for their half acre of land, which I had a mind to do that in the surrender I might secure Piggott’s, which otherwise I should be forced to lose.
So with Stankes home and supped, and after telling my father how things went, I went to bed with my mind in good temper, because I see the matter and manner of the Court and the bottom of my business, wherein I was before and should always have been ignorant.

going to court
with words that are sworn

I surrender to the law
all I believe

cannot be less than open
and pig-ignorant

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Friday 20 September 1661.

September 20, 2024September 19, 2024 by Luisa A. Igloria

Velvet Foot

(Flammulina velutipes)

 
An opera jacket 
was gifted to me—

I didn't ask for it—black 
satin crepe, spangled

with random beads. 
I could wear it 

to a performance 
in a theatre, my love

guiding me through rows
of velvet-tufted seats until

we come to P-64, P-66
and the lights lower.

Between the world we left
when we passed through

the doors, and the world
beginning to unreel before us,

there is a vastness I can't
fathom or cross. Caps of rust

brown and golden yellow 
tether the edges, 

darkening with time,
clustered on wood.

September 19, 2024 by Luisa A. Igloria

Inherit the Earth

It rains for two days; on the third day,
a fine mist in the humid air. Dampness

in your bones. All over the yard, 
clumps of ringless honey mushrooms, 

colonies thriving on decayed matter. 
They are just the outer fringe; they 

are almost unkillable. A scientist 
described them as a humming 

laboratory, a hive mind working on 
a structure that will survive into 

the future. Even the stump of a giant 
oak that used to tower in the grass

is giving up its defenses—plate
after plate of dry, loosened bark.

September 19, 2024 by Dave Bonta

Bearable

Up early, and my father and I alone into the garden, and there talked about our business, and what to do therein. So after I had talked and advised with my coz Claxton, and then with my uncle by his bedside, we all horsed away to Cambridge, where my father and I, having left my wife at the Beare with my brother, went to Mr. Sedgewicke, the steward of Gravely, and there talked with him, but could get little hopes from anything that he would tell us; but at last I did give him a fee, and then he was free to tell me what I asked, which was something, though not much comfort.
From thence to our horses, and with my wife went and rode through Sturbridge but the fair was almost done. So we did not ‘light there at all, but went back to Cambridge, and there at the Beare we had some herrings, we and my brother, and after dinner set out for Brampton, where we come in very good time, and found all things well, and being somewhat weary, after some talk about tomorrow’s business with my father, we went to bed.

outside at the edge of the light
a bear

and we being weary
in bed

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Thursday 19 September 1661.

September 18, 2024September 18, 2024 by Luisa A. Igloria

Salt of the Earth

The largest salt flat is in Bolivia—Salar de Uyuni, where 
rainwater as it evaporates leaves traces in the form of salt. 
In a book of amazing facts I've been given by a new friend, 
I read about how you could walk across its surface of over four 
thousand miles in whatever direction without sinking; the water, 
which is eight times saltier than ocean water, would barely come 
up to your ankles. My parents described a few of their friends 
as the salt of the earth—meaning, they were upstanding 
and good in every way; they would never let you down. 
They'd give you the last slice of bread and the last bottle 
of water in their pantry, care for your indoor plants while 
you're away, offer a pillow for your copious griefs, or  
the space you need. Their goodness would be so wide, 
a lake as perfect mirror doubling the generosity of the sky.

                                                         ~ with thanks to Alison Palmer

September 18, 2024January 12, 2025 by Dave Bonta

Down/out

The next morning up early and begun our march; the way about Puckridge very bad, and my wife, in the very last dirty place of all, got a fall, but no hurt, though some dirt. At last she begun, poor wretch, to be tired, and I to be angry at it, but I was to blame; for she is a very good companion as long as she is well.
In the afternoon we got to Cambridge, where I left my wife at my cozen Angier’s while I went to Christ’s College, and there found my brother in his chamber, and talked with him; and so to the barber’s, and then to my wife again, and remounted for Impington, where my uncle received me and my wife very kindly. And by and by in comes my father, and we supped and talked and were merry, but being weary and sleepy my wife and I to bed without talking with my father anything about our business.

morning archway
a bad and dirty place
for Christ to sleep

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Wednesday 18 September 1661.

September 17, 2024 by Dave Bonta

Hobbyhorse

And the next morning got up, telling my wife of my journey, and she with a few words got me to hire her a horse to go along with me. So I went to my Lady’s and elsewhere to take leave, and of Mr. Townsend did borrow a very fine side-saddle for my wife; and so after all things were ready, she and I took coach to the end of the town towards Kingsland, and there got upon my horse and she upon her pretty mare that I hired for her, and she rides very well. By the mare at one time falling she got a fall, but no harm; so we got to Ware, and there supped, and to bed very merry and pleasant.

a morning journey
she on her fine saddle

and I the horse
that she rides

we are one falling oh
we are up

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Tuesday 17 September 1661.