Via Negativa

January 1, 2024January 1, 2024 by Dave Bonta

Housemates

At the end of the last and the beginning of this year, I do live in one of the houses belonging to the Navy Office, as one of the principal officers, and have done now about half a year. After much trouble with workmen I am now almost settled; my family being, myself, my wife, Jane, Will. Hewer, and Wayneman, my girle’s brother.
Myself in constant good health, and in a most handsome and thriving condition. Blessed be Almighty God for it. I am now taking of my sister to come and live with me. As to things of State.—The King settled, and loved of all. The Duke of York matched to my Lord Chancellor’s daughter, which do not please many. The Queen upon her return to France with the Princess Henrietta. The Princess of Orange lately dead, and we into new mourning for her.
We have been lately frighted with a great plot, and many taken up on it, and the fright not quite over. The Parliament, which had done all this great good to the King, beginning to grow factious, the King did dissolve it December 29th last, and another likely to be chosen speedily.
I take myself now to be worth 300l. clear in money, and all my goods and all manner of debts paid, which are none at all.
Called up this morning by Mr. Moore, who brought me my last things for me to sign for the last month, and to my great comfort tells me that my fees will come to 80l. clear to myself, and about 25l. for him, which he hath got out of the pardons, though there be no fee due to me at all out of them.
Then comes in my brother Thomas, and after him my father, Dr. Thomas Pepys, my uncle Fenner and his two sons (Anthony’s only child dying this morning, yet he was so civil to come, and was pretty merry) to breakfast; and I had for them a barrel of oysters, a dish of neat’s tongues, and a dish of anchovies, wine of all sorts, and Northdown ale. We were very merry till about eleven o’clock, and then they went away.
At noon I carried my wife by coach to my cozen, Thomas Pepys, where we, with my father, Dr. Thomas, cozen Stradwick, Scott, and their wives, dined. Here I saw first his second wife, which is a very respectfull woman, but his dinner a sorry, poor dinner for a man of his estate, there being nothing but ordinary meat in it. To-day the King dined at a lord’s, two doors from us. After dinner I took my wife to Whitehall, I sent her to Mrs. Pierces (where we should have dined today), and I to the Privy Seal, where Mr. Moore took out all his money, and he and I went to Mr. Pierces; in our way seeing the Duke of York bring his Lady this day to wait upon the Queen, the first time that ever she did since that great business; and the Queen is said to receive her now with much respect and love; and there he cast up the fees, and I told the money, by the same token one 100l. bag, after I had told it, fell all about the room, and I fear I have lost some of it.
That done I left my friends and went to my Lord’s, but he being not come in I lodged the money with Mr. Shepley, and bade good night to Mr. Moore, and so returned to Mr. Pierces, and there supped with them, and Mr. Pierce, the purser, and his wife and mine, where we had a calf’s head carboned, but it was raw, we could not eat it, and a good hen. But she is such a slut that I do not love her victualls.
After supper I sent them home by coach, and I went to my Lord’s and there played till 12 at night at cards at Best with J. Goods and N. Osgood, and then to bed with Mr. Shepley.

I live with
a family of the dead

we dissolve like all last things
on the tongue

north of nothing
but white and fear

I have a calf’s head
to play cards

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Tuesday 1 January 1661.

January 1, 2024December 30, 2023 by Luisa A. Igloria

Seven for the New Year

river in November light between bare woods and mountain

~ after Issa

One screw falls off
the doorbell; it's somewhere
        in the grass, not chiming. 

We no longer write 
checks—no danger now 
        of getting the year wrong.

Colder and colder, but only 
cloudy. We snip lacy
         paper into snowflakes.

Oysters drawn up from
the river depths. Find the hinge
         with the point of a knife. 

It's always easiest after
the yield. Then they slide
         sweet down the throat.

New moon soon after the new
year. Raise a glass with hints
          of oak, cardamom, allspice.

Let's make no resolutions—
after all, we are here.
          Let's be here.

December 31, 2023December 31, 2023 by Dave Bonta

Free eBook: The Hidden Poems of Samuel Pepys, 1660

Here it is. Feel free to download as many times as you like, share, re-erase, etc.

I had some thoughts about re-erasing Year 1 of Pepys’ diary over on my author site.

December 31, 2023 by Dave Bonta

Year’s end

At the office all the morning and after that home, and not staying to dine I went out, and in Paul’s Church-yard I bought the play of “Henry the Fourth,” and so went to the new Theatre (only calling at Mr. Crew’s and eat a bit with the people there at dinner) and saw it acted; but my expectation being too great, it did not please me, as otherwise I believe it would; and my having a book, I believe did spoil it a little.
That being done I went to my Lord’s, where I found him private at cards with my Lord Lauderdale and some persons of honour. So Mr. Shepley and I over to Harper’s, and there drank a pot or two, and so parted. My boy taking a cat home with him from my Lord’s, which Sarah had given him for my wife, we being much troubled with mice.
At Whitehall inquiring for a coach, there was a Frenchman with one eye that was going my way, so he and I hired the coach between us and he set me down in Fenchurch Street. Strange how the fellow, without asking, did tell me all what he was, and how he had ran away from his father and come into England to serve the King, and now going back again.
Home and to bed.

I dine with the people
in my book

done with the cat
one eye going my way

down without asking
how to land

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Monday 31 December 1660.

December 31, 2023 by Dave Bonta

Gathered

(Lord’s day). Lay long in bed, and being up, I went with Will to my Lord’s, calling in at many churches in my way. There I found Mr. Shepley, in his Venetian cap, taking physique in his chamber, and with him I sat till dinner.
My Lord dined abroad and my Lady in her chamber, so Mr. Hetly, Child and I dined together, and after dinner Mr. Child and I spent some time at the lute, and so promising to prick me some lessons to my theorbo he went away to see Henry Laws, who lies very sick.
I to the Abby and walked there, seeing the great confusion of people that come there to hear the organs. So home, calling in at my father’s, but staid not, my father and mother being both forth.
At home I fell a-reading of Fuller’s Church History till it was late, and so to bed.

in bed with all
my organs in me
reading till late

Erasure haiku derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Sunday 30 December 1660.

December 31, 2023December 30, 2023 by Luisa A. Igloria

Twelve Round Fruit

Above the Elizabeth River, the sky boils 
           red and orange, fiery as the flames 
that have rained all year through the world.
          This we can call beautiful, before it fades
in a flash, swallowed by the throat of universal
          night. Around the neighborhood, sweep 
of streets carpeted with dry pine needles. 
          Students not yet back to crowd campus—
I like the tentative quiet of this interval, this small 
          cup at the end of the year filling with odds 
and ends of insect sound and the airhorn of 
          an occasional tugboat. On the counter,
I arrange a bowl of twelve round fruit, their cheeks 
         full and their skins firm: may the year be like them.

December 30, 2023December 29, 2023 by Luisa A. Igloria

Ode to January

Cleaning up, in a file folder I find forms
reminding me insurance coverage is 
about to expire for the dryer, refrigerator, 
dishwasher; and an email from work 
reminds me I need to change my password 
in seven days. My passport has also expired.
Some library books are almost due. The milk 
is past its "sell by" date, and I don't 
remember how long a mystery 
condiment has sat in its jar in the back 
of the shelf. We are one day away 
from the first of the year— when even 
without fanfare, it's possible to look  
backward and forward at the same time.

December 29, 2023 by Dave Bonta

Writerly

Within all the morning. Several people to speak with me; Mr. Shepley for 100l.; Mr. Kennard and Warren, the merchant, about deals for my Lord. Captain Robert Blake lately come from the Straights about some Florence Wine for my Lord, and with him I went to Sir W. Pen, who offering me a barrel of oysters I took them both home to my house (having by chance a good piece of roast beef at the fire for dinner), and there they dined with me, and sat talking all the afternoon-good company. Thence to Alderman Backwell’s and took a brave state-plate and cupp in lieu of the candlesticks that I had the other day and carried them by coach to my Lord’s and left them there. And so back to my father’s and saw my mother, and so to my uncle Fenner’s, whither my father came to me, and there we talked and drank, and so away; I home with my father, he telling me what bad wives both my cozen Joyces make to their husbands, which I much wondered at. After talking of my sister’s coming to me next week, I went home and to bed.

I speak with a pen
having the fire for company

and a plate and cup
in lieu of mother and father

and what I wonder
is coming next

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Saturday 29 December 1660.

December 29, 2023December 28, 2023 by Luisa A. Igloria

Prayer

(after Ellen Bass)

Once I thought the answer 
to every request was mine to fulfill. 
All the sermons I ever heard in this 
lifetime held the words others before self 
and give. But I grow tired of the smaller 
serving, the 24-hour hotline. 
It's a long time since I dressed 
sheerly for the way fabric felt on my skin,
the way it wrapped my body. 
I want to stop justifying this need 
for solitude and not speaking, not trying
to mend everything. I am reminded
that sleep is not a wastefulness of hours,
that I can ask for things for myself.

December 28, 2023 by Dave Bonta

Substantial

Office day. There all the morning. Dined at home alone with my wife, and so staid within all the afternoon and evening; at my lute, with great pleasure, and so to bed with great content.

a real meal
and so thin an evening

I eat to be great

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Friday 28 December 1660.