Via Negativa

January 6, 2024January 6, 2024 by Dave Bonta

Epiphany Eve

in the January silence
my camera’s shutter
makes me jump

the sun is bright on the boulders
grains of old snow
rain down

from acrobatic birches
and oaks stretched out like yogis

filling in the sky
over floors of lichen-
clad quartzite

i sit with my back against
a tall white pine
gazing at its companion

how the plates of bark interlock
their endless variations in shape

and the woodpecker wounds
that have bled
extravagant white rivers

a raven spots
my red cap as usual
and gives my position away

the sun threads a weft of cirrus
it’s Epiphany Eve

i find fresh feather-
coats of ice
on all the woodland pools

where the trees’
shrunken images
have turned jagged and Cubist

while their high drama goes on
even in their present absence

a red-tailed hawk
sails past emitting
its eagle scream

an oak with a massive rack of limbs
can offer
travelers a perch

or frame a view
of the next mountain

so much like this one
except it faces us

and suddenly i see
how a vista
can be a mirror

the kind we’ve always wanted
that keeps its distance

here among the trees
i am glad just
to be in this body

the day before
a forecast snowstorm
to walk forest roads

that lead nowhere in particular
and take their time

January 6, 2024 by Dave Bonta

(Lord’s day).
My wife and I to church this morning, and so home to dinner to a boiled leg of mutton all alone.
To church again, where, before sermon, a long Psalm was set that lasted an hour, while the sexton gathered his year’s contribucion through the whole church.
After sermon home, and there I went to my chamber and wrote a letter to send to Mr. Coventry, with a piece of plate along with it, which I do preserve among my other letters.
So to supper, and thence after prayers to bed.

my wife is an oiled
leg of church
a long psalm

sex a red letter
I preserve among
my other prayers

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Sunday 6 January 1660/61 (a slight revision from 2014).

January 6, 2024January 5, 2024 by Luisa A. Igloria

Four

river in November light between bare woods and mountain

So soon after the start 
of a new year and I'm trying 
         not to think of sad

*

Green crysanthemums
in a tall glass of water help
        to change the tempo of the room

*

When I get up for a glass of water
at four in the morning, I remember
       breastfeeding my babies at that hour

*

Their little mouths were full
of hunger and pleasure, 
       everything at the same time

January 5, 2024 by Dave Bonta

White lady

Home all the morning. Several people came to me about business, among others the great Tom Fuller, who came to desire a kindness for a friend of his, who hath a mind to go to Jamaica with these two ships that are going, which I promised to do.
So to Whitehall to my Lady, whom I found at dinner and dined with her, and staid with her talking all the afternoon, and thence walked to Westminster Hall. So to Will’s, and drank with Spicer, and thence by coach home, staying a little in Paul’s Churchyard, to bespeak Ogilby’s Æsop’s Fables and Tully’s Officys to be bound for me. So home and to bed.

desire is a mind
with two hips

that white lady
who walked in the churchyard

a fable
bound for bed

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Saturday 5 January 1660/61.

January 5, 2024January 4, 2024 by Luisa A. Igloria

Eating Fish, I Think of You

How should I measure a distance that remains
incalculable, that gestures like a filament 

in turquoise water or the edge of a feather
flashing beyond the hills? A long time ago

when you arrived, I looked beyond your eyes
and understood we come from a luminosity

in darkness, a wound that crackles the sky
continually open with stars. How could I

match their offerings? Overnight it dips
below freezing and the floorboards palm

the soles of my feet. Some people refuse to turn
a steamed fish over in its platter— Instead, they lift

the spine and its forest of bones entire, this being 
one way to arrive unharmed at the softer side.

January 4, 2024 by Dave Bonta

Agonistic

Office all the morning, my wife and Pall being gone to my father’s to dress dinner for Mr. Honiwood, my mother being gone out of town. Dined at home, and Mr. Moore with me, with whom I had been early this morning at White Hall, at the Jewell Office, to choose a piece of gilt plate for my Lord, in return of his offering to the King (which it seems is usual at this time of year, and an Earl gives twenty pieces in gold in a purse to the King). I chose a gilt tankard, weighing 31 ounces and a half, and he is allowed 30; so I paid 12s. for the ounce and half over what he is to have; but strange it was for me to see what a company of small fees I was called upon by a great many to pay there, which, I perceive, is the manner that courtiers do get their estates.
After dinner Mr. Moore and I to the Theatre, where was “The Scornful Lady,” acted very well, it being the first play that ever he saw. Thence with him to drink a cup of ale at Hercules Pillars, and so parted. I called to see my father, who told me by the way how Will and Mary Joyce do live a strange life together, nothing but fighting, &c., so that sometimes her father has a mind to have them divorced. Thence home.

gone to the wood
out of town we turn

strange as small states
together but fighting

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Friday 4 January 1660/61.

January 4, 2024January 3, 2024 by Luisa A. Igloria

Correspondence

Last night we ate a dish of green.
Basil and spinach, a pesto. Citrus
zest binding the grains of orzo.
The kitchen window overlooks
the yard, where the persimmon
and fig are still wintering. Sometimes
we crave a cleansing. But keep the fire 
alive in the grate, the quiet smolder 
inside, honey softening in the comb.

January 3, 2024 by Dave Bonta

Dove

Early in the morning to the Exchequer, where I told over what money I had of my Lord’s and my own there, which I found to be 970l.. Thence to Will’s, where Spicer and I eat our dinner of a roasted leg of pork which Will did give us, and after that to the Theatre, where was acted “Beggars’ Bush,” it being very well done; and here the first time that ever I saw women come upon the stage. From thence to my father’s, where I found my mother gone by Bird, the carrier, to Brampton, upon my uncle’s great desire, my aunt being now in despair of life. So home.

a dove
in the theater
was a beggar on stage

I found my mother
gone by bird
no air of life

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Thursday 3 January 1660/61.

January 3, 2024January 2, 2024 by Luisa A. Igloria

New

Ask what glows faintly in the light 
        of a hidden moon, where the sudden
whiff of sulfur and clove comes from—
        Someone somewhere is always burning 
something: the slats of a broken door,
        moving boxes, letters that still have 
the power to hold you hostage to old 
        griefs. When only the ashes remain, you
can't tell one apart from the other.  Go
       inside and change your clothes 
so the smell of smoke won't sink 
       into your skin. Feel how, like a clear 
stream, the water you drink
      pours down your throat.

January 2, 2024 by Dave Bonta

Autopsy

Up early, and being called up to my Lord he did give me many commands in his business. As about taking care to write to my uncle that Mr. Barnewell’s papers should be locked up, in case he should die, he being now suspected to be very ill. Also about consulting with Mr. W. Montagu for the settling of the 4000l. a year that the King had promised my Lord. As also about getting of Mr. George Montagu to be chosen at Huntingdon this next Parliament, &c.
That done he to White Hall stairs with much company, and I with him; where we took water for Lambeth, and there coach for Portsmouth.
The Queen’s things were all in White Hall Court ready to be sent away, and her Majesty ready to be gone an hour after to Hampton Court to-night, and so to be at Portsmouth on Saturday next.
I by water to my office, and there all the morning, and so home to dinner, where I found Pall (my sister) was come; but I do not let her sit down at table with me, which I do at first that she may not expect it hereafter from me. After dinner I to Westminster by water, and there found my brother Spicer at the Leg with all the rest of the Exchequer men (most of whom I now do not know) at dinner. Here I staid and drank with them, and then to Mr. George Montagu about the business of election, and he did give me a piece in gold; so to my Lord’s and got the chest of plate brought to the Exchequer, and my brother Spicer put it into his treasury. So to Will’s with them to a pot of ale, and so parted.
I took a turn in the Hall, and bought the King and Chancellor’s speeches at the dissolving the Parliament last Saturday.
So to my Lord’s, and took my money I brought ‘thither last night and the silver candlesticks, and by coach left the latter at Alderman Backwell’s, I having no use for them, and the former home. There stood a man at our door, when I carried it in, and saw me, which made me a little afeard.
Up to my chamber and wrote letters to Huntingdon and did other business.
This day I lent Sir W. Batten and Captn. Rider my chine of beef for to serve at dinner tomorrow at Trinity House, the Duke of Albemarle being to be there and all the rest of the Brethren, it being a great day for the reading over of their new Charter, which the King hath newly given them.

taking care to lock up
I die on the stairs

mouth to mouth
oh sister or brother

having a door
made fear my amber

hunting for a tomorrow
here in art

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Wednesday 2 January 1660/61.