Via Negativa

December 3, 2017 by Dave Bonta

Things fall apart

Lay long in bed. Then up and to the office, where busy all the morning. At home dined. After dinner with my wife and Mercer to the Duke’s House, and there saw “The Rivalls,” which I had seen before; but the play not good, nor anything but the good actings of Betterton and his wife and Harris.
Thence homeward, and the coach broke with us in Lincoln’s Inn Fields, and so walked to Fleete Streete, and there took coach and home, and to my office, whither by and by comes Captain Cocke, and then Sir W. Batten, and we all to Sir J. Minnes, and I did give them a barrel of oysters I had given to me, and so there sat and talked, where good discourse of the late troubles, they knowing things, all of them, very well; and Cocke, from the King’s own mouth, being then entrusted himself much, do know particularly that the King’s credulity to Cromwell’s promises, private to him, against the advice of his friends and the certain discovery of the practices and discourses of Cromwell in council (by Major Huntington) did take away his life and nothing else.
Then to some loose atheisticall discourse of Cocke’s, when he was almost drunk, and then about 11 o’clock broke up, and I to my office, to fit up an account for Povy, wherein I hope to get something. At it till almost two o’clock, then to supper and to bed.

where rivals play-act a war
and we all give the given talk
where they know things
from the king’s own mouth
I trust an atheistic drunk
to account for hope

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Friday 2 December 1664.

December 2, 2017 by Luisa A. Igloria

Murmuration

“…Hindi ako bumati sa simula upang sa huli ay magpaalam.”
[“…I did not hail you at the outset, only to take your leave at the end.”
~ Andres Bonifacio; 1897 Mayo 1

Their flick and turn, a darker shape of flame
leaping out of a lighter after the finger

releases the spark wheel; flint pressed
to steel, volatile tongue to the forked

spring— In the cold air, wouldn’t you
rather love the ripple of starlings instead

of fallen leaves? Every roof is taxed with
dying brown, wet yellow, torn rust. Goodbye

for now, tender sky. The hard season’s
fully upon us. Like birds we sense what

pulls like a claw at the edge of the dream.
Our defense: not so much to scatter, as to swell.

In response to Via Negativa: Late bloomers.

December 2, 2017 by Dave Bonta

Hard times

Up betimes and to White Hall to a Committee of Tangier, and so straight home and hard to my business at my office till noon, then to dinner, and so to my office, and by and by we sat all the afternoon, then to my office again till past one in the morning, and so home to supper and to bed.

times hit hard
my sin my dinner
my off-and-on hen
my past

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Thursday 1 December 1664.

December 1, 2017 by Dave Bonta

Plea bargain

Up, and with Sir W. Batten and Sir J. Minnes to the Committee of the Lords, and there did our business; but, Lord! what a sorry dispatch these great persons give to business. Thence to the ‘Change, and there hear the certainty and circumstances of the Dutch having called in their fleete and paid their men half-pay, the other to be paid them upon their being ready upon beat of drum to come to serve them again, and in the meantime to have half-pay. This is said.
Thence home to dinner, and so to my office all the afternoon. In the evening my wife and Sir W. Warren with me to White Hall, sending her with the coach to see her father and mother. He and I up to Sir G. Carteret, and first I alone and then both had discourse with him about things of the Navy, and so I and he calling my wife at Unthanke’s, home again, and long together talking how to order things in a new contract for Norway goods, as well to the King’s as to his advantage.
He gone, I to my monthly accounts, and, bless God! I find I have increased my last balance, though but little; but I hope ere long to get more. In the meantime praise God for what I have, which is 1209l. So, with my heart glad to see my accounts fall so right in this time of mixing of monies and confusion, I home to bed.

I hear half a beat
of drum to serve time
have half a hope

in the meantime praise God
for this confusion

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Wednesday 30 November 1664.

December 1, 2017November 30, 2017 by Luisa A. Igloria

Porosis

After a certain age, the discs between
the spine’s vertebrae get drier and more

compressed. The body shrinks, the back
curves as if from having carried too much

luggage. Once, a woman stepping carefully
across a stage assembled a cage of bones

in a delicate balancing act— laying
the smooth bleached scimitar of one upon

the tip of another, building weight and
counterweight out of chiseled fragments.

She took these and made of herself a moving
column. If wayward breath or wind, if she

should stop or fold: the apparatus would
collapse— so many sticks of kindling.

November 30, 2017November 30, 2017 by Luisa A. Igloria

Mind’s eye

In this portrait only one of them is smiling for the camera. They are young enough still; but not so young to not care about concealing the gaps in front teeth, a lock of hair that won’t be tamed.

The last war is many years behind them. He lost a fingernail in that one. She lost her birth mother so young, she does not remember anything about her except for a name.

A fragrance, a sweet roll, a recipe that won’t be passed down because its maker is gone. The smell released by yeast cells spreading across a cup of lukewarm water.

Who will teach them how banks and pawnshops work, the way to breathe again after looking upon the enormity of what the years are about to exact?

She sits at the edge of the pool trying to keep the children quiet. They are in a different city. Then the curfews are announced and everyone has to go indoors.

Sometimes they read encyclopedia pages aloud by flashlight or candlelight while waiting for power to be restored. He likes the entry about the third eye— how it is related to the pineal gland, which affects sensitivity to light and is thought to flood the body with a chemical substance during the big upheavals of birth and death.

There is a part about how some precolonial cultures practiced tapping the space on the forehead between the eyes with a pointed instrument. The younger the subject, the better.

She remembers how her two older children looked when they had seizures as babies— the stiffened limbs, the way their eyes rolled back into their heads like unmoored marbles.

A sudden urge to eat sweets or roasted seeds, and drink water. Following, sleep like a thick white blanket, sounds sifting through the brain as if they came from somewhere very far away.

But it is the mother’s body twitching awake at the smallest tremor not her own.

In response to Via Negativa: Self-actualization.

November 30, 2017 by Dave Bonta

Old hat

Up, and with Sir W. Batten to the Committee of Lords at the Council Chamber, where Sir G. Carteret told us what he had said to the King, and how the King inclines to our request of making us Commissioners of the Prize office, but meeting him anon in the gallery, he tells me that my Lord Barkely is angry we should not acquaint him with it, so I found out my Lord and pacified him, but I know not whether he was so in earnest or no, for he looked very frowardly. Thence to the Parliament House, and with Sir W. Batten home and dined with him, my wife being gone to my Lady Sandwich’s, and then to the office, where we sat all the afternoon, and I at my office till past 12 at night, and so home to bed.
This day I hear that the King should say that the Dutch do begin to comply with him. Sir John Robinson told Sir W. Batten that he heard the King say so. I pray God it may be so.

I am old hat
the lines meet
in my quaint nest
look at me go to sandwich
this ear with that

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Tuesday 29 November 1664.

November 29, 2017 by Dave Bonta

Self-actualization

Up, and with Sir J. Minnes and W. Batten to White Hall, but no Committee of Lords (which is like to do the King’s business well). So to Westminster, and there to Jervas’s and was a little while with Jane, and so to London by coach and to the Coffee-house, where certain news of our peace made by Captain Allen with Argier, which is good news; and that the Dutch have sent part of their fleete round by Scotland; and resolve to pay off the rest half-pay, promising the rest in the Spring, hereby keeping their men. But how true this, I know not. Home to dinner, then come Dr. Clerke to speak with me about sick and wounded men, wherein he is like to be concerned. After him Mr. Cutler, and much talk with him, and with him to White Hall, to have waited on the Lords by order, but no meeting, neither to-night, which will spoil all.
I think I shall get something by my discourse with Cutler. So home, and after being at my office an hour with Mr. Povy talking about his business of Tangier, getting him some money allowed him for freight of ships, wherein I hope to get something too. He gone, home hungry and almost sick for want of eating, and so to supper and to bed.

like news of peace
the land so promising in spring
is sick and wounded with oil

getting money
we hope to get thin
go home hungry to be

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Monday 28 November 1664.

November 29, 2017November 29, 2017 by Luisa A. Igloria

Replacements

A pair of them: one for the side gate, one for the driveway gate hardly ever opened except when guests arrived in more than two cars; or when the city services truck came through the road in back to snake the sewer line. Neither happened very often. The side gate, however, was opened and closed every day, at sunup and sundown, to allow access to the meter readers and the guys who trimmed the grass every three weeks or so. The old padlocks were scaled with rust and had to be thrown away. They were almost exactly like the new ones except for the one thing they didn’t have: a little rubber window that could slide over the keyhole itself. Whoever came up with that must have been a thoughtful kind of person.

What do you do with
a thing fallen out of use?
Its name overtakes it.

November 28, 2017 by Dave Bonta

Late bloomers

(Lord’s day). To church in the morning, then dined at home, and to my office, and there all the afternoon setting right my business of flaggs, and after all my pains find reason not to be sorry, because I think it will bring me considerable profit.
In the evening come Mr. Andrews and Hill, and we sung, with my boy, Ravenscroft’s 4-part psalms, most admirable musique. Then (Andrews not staying) we to supper, and after supper fell into the rarest discourse with Mr. Hill about Rome and Italy; but most pleasant that I ever had in my life. At it very late and then to bed.

setting sun with ravens
a most admirable music

we fell into rare life
and then to bed

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Sunday 27 November 1664.