Via Negativa

December 15, 2025 by Dave Bonta

Mutter

(Lord’s day). Lay with great content talking with my wife in bed, and so up and to church and then home, and had a neat dinner by ourselves, and after dinner walked to White Hall and my Lord’s, and up and down till chappell time, and then to the King’s chappell, where I heard the service, and so to my Lord’s, and there Mr. Howe and Pagett, the counsellor, an old lover of musique. We sang some Psalms of Mr. Lawes, and played some symphonys between till night, that I was sent for to Mr. Creed’s lodging, and there was Captain Ferrers and his lady and W. Howe and I; we supped very well and good sport in discourse. After supper I was sent for to my Lord, with whom I staid talking about his, and my owne, and the publique affairs, with great content, he advising me as to my owne choosing of Sir R. Bernard for umpire in the businesses between my uncle and us, that I would not trust to him upon his direction, for he did not think him a man to be trusted at all; and so bid him good night, and to Mr. Creed’s again; Mr. Moore, with whom I intended to have lain, lying physically without sheets; and there, after some discourse, to bed, and lay ill, though the bed good, my stomach being sicke all night with my too heavy supper.

talking to ourselves
in time to the music

some night air
between us on thin sheets

some discourse and thou
my stomach

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Sunday 14 December 1662.

December 14, 2025December 14, 2025 by Luisa A. Igloria

Life Cycle

river in November light between bare woods and mountain

 
In front, towering
above the sidewalk edge
and the strip of soil 
that all refer to as 
city property— two pines
where night herons nest

For compost, for return
to the soil; nutrients
for the fruit tree, 
says her daughter
regarding the backyard 
unraked for months

With today's wind,
a rain of pine needles
unloosed from every
branch. Tomorrow,  
armies of leaf blowers 
down the street

December 14, 2025 by Dave Bonta

Troops

Slept long to-day till Sir J. Minnes and Sir W. Batten were set out towards Portsmouth before I rose, and Sir G. Carteret came to the office to speak with me before I was up. So I started up and down to him. By and by we sat, Mr. Coventry and I (Sir G. Carteret being gone), and among other things, Field and Stint did come, and received the 41l. given him by the judgement against me and Harry Kem; and we did also sign bonds in 500l. to stand to the award of Mr. Porter and Smith for the rest: which, however, I did not sign to till I got Mr. Coventry to go up with me to Sir W. Pen; and he did promise me before him to bear his share in what should be awarded, and both concluded that Sir W. Batten would do no less. At noon broke up and dined with my wife, and then to the office again, and there made an end of last night’s examination, and got my study there made very clean and put in order, and then to write by the post, among other letters one to Sir W. Batten about this day’s work with Field, desiring his promise also. The letter I have caused to be entered in our public book of letters. So home to supper and to bed.

mouth of an oven
in the field
given to war

we ward off the night
made into a day’s
red letters

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Friday 13 December 1662.

December 13, 2025December 13, 2025 by Luisa A. Igloria

Overheard

I hear her the first time before I turn
the corner, walking through the refrigerated 
section and shelves still stacked with butter 

blocks, cardboard boxes of eggs, seasonal 
peppermint- and mocha-flavored creamers.
Leave me alone, no, you leave me alone— 

the inflection of anger in her voice somehow 
incongruous with the almost languid way she 
pushes her cart and considers a bag of frozen 

peas. Leave me alone, she repeats into her phone 
as she makes the rounds for her grocery items. 
Other shoppers keep their distance and avoid 

eye contact. When did we not exist in 
a time of conflict that didn't trickle down 
into the minutiae of our lives? I go in solitude 

so as not to drink out of everybody's
cistern wrote Nietzsche, afraid the world
might rob him of his soul. What strikes me

is that she keeps the line open, doesn't 
cut off the connection, then put her phone
on silent. Not a big anger, perhaps—

Its audible tip, just enough to pierce the air 
toward a listening. Just enough so the curious 
soul leans a little way out of its bunker.

December 12, 2025 by Dave Bonta

Consoled

From a very hard frost, when I wake, I find a very great thaw, and my house overflown with it, which vexed me.
At the office and home, doing business all the morning. Then dined with my wife and sat talking with her all the afternoon, and then to the office, and there examining my copy of Mr. Holland’s book till 10 at night, and so home to supper and bed.

from a hard wake
I find my overflow

with my wife
talking it all off

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Friday 12 December 1662.

December 12, 2025December 12, 2025 by Luisa A. Igloria

Greater and Greater Things

Like a tent, like a tarpaulin, 
like the roof that held each 

thing in. Across my belly though
fainter now, brown marks 

that stretched my skin from 
inside, each time my womb grew 

to house a child. Let everything
happen to you, said Rilke— 

and I, a kind of vessel life
will fill and burst and fill

again, if it doesn't defeat
me. I thought it was my duty 

not to break this cycle. 
But really, not to break.

December 11, 2025December 11, 2025 by Luisa A. Igloria

Dusk, December

Almost the longest night. 
Before real darkness arrives,
travelers set out.

*

Some leave, some arrive.
Flaggers waving lit-up wands
before the train station.

*

For a few moments,
the silhouettes of trees pressed
against the sky's burning throat.

*

Domestic vs. extravagant
space: a parade of placid geese
not yet leaning into the wind.

December 11, 2025 by Dave Bonta

Weighty

Up, it being a great frost upon the snow, and we sat all the morning upon Mr. Creed’s accounts, wherein I did him some service and some disservice. At noon he dined with me, and we sat all the afternoon together, discoursing of ways to get money, which I am now giving myself wholly up to, and in the evening he went away and I to my office, concluding all matters concerning our great letter so long in doing to my Lord Treasurer, till almost one in the morning, and then home with my mind much eased, and so to bed.

I eat snow and count
all the way to one

I am giving myself up
to the stone in my mind

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Thursday 11 December 1662.

December 10, 2025December 10, 2025 by Luisa A. Igloria

The Noble Plan

"Make no little plans."
         ~ attributed to Daniel H. Burnham


Like most everything else, it began
as a kind of dream. But grand, both

in scale and purpose. Each instance 
toward the manifestation of the dream 

became practice, a testing of principles 
first laid out on drafting paper, to bring
 
a sense of imperial order to the new colony 
in the East. Outward from the core of government

and the hub for commerce, a network of radiating
grids laid upon the wilderness. Here, the air

was bracing and fragranced with pine: a tonic
for those languishing in the provinces' 

tropical heat and malarial fevers. After 
the roads, a sanatorium was built on a hill: 

as charming as any in Simla or the Swiss alps, 
promising rest and recovery for the tubercular; 

fresh food and sunlight. A City Beautiful, 
whose monuments and buildings were scaffolds 

for ideals of civic and moral virtue— whose site,
cleansed of unsightly elements, would support survival,  

beckon trade, arrange functions for urban refinement and
aesthetics. An eye for immediate defense and a long future.

December 10, 2025 by Dave Bonta

Ground-truthing

This morning rose, receiving a messenger from Sir G. Carteret and a letter from Mr. Coventry, one contrary to another, about our letter to my Lord Treasurer, at which I am troubled, but I went to Sir George, and being desirous to please both, I think I have found out a way to do it. So back to the office with Sir J. Minnes, in his coach, but so great a snow that we could hardly pass the streets. So we and Sir W. Batten to the office, and there did discourse of Mr. Creed’s accounts, and I fear it will be a good while before we shall go through them, and many things we meet with, all of difficulty. Then to the Dolphin, where Sir J. Minnes, Sir W. Batten, and I, did treat the Auditors of the Exchequer, Auditors Wood and Beale, and hither come Sir G. Carteret to us. We had a good dinner, cost us 5l. and 6s., whereof my share 26s., and after dinner did discourse of our salarys and other matters, which I think now they will allow.
Thence home, and there I found our new cook-mayde Susan come, who is recommended to us by my wife’s brother, for which I like her never the better, but being a good well-looked lass, I am willing to try, and Jane begins to take upon her as a chamber-mayde. So to the office, where late putting papers and my books and businesses in order, it being very cold, and so home to supper.

I try a trouble
I have found out back

so great a snow
we hardly count

and many things become
other matters now

new to rot
like a well-looked-at paper

Erasure poe derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Wednesday 10 December 1662.