Purveyors of fine poetry since 2003.
The cause is not whether you pick
clumps of poison mushrooms under a new
moon or cast bread crumbs in a paper sack
on the waters. You lie on your back
as dry grasses rustle their profound
tristesse. There is nothing you haven’t
touched. Your mouth rushes through
the motions, making a meal of remnants.
Faithful, the pulse keeps feverish time.
Up and at my office all the morning, and at noon Mr. Creed came to me and dined with me, and after dinner Murford came to me and he and I discoursed wholly upon his breach of contract with us. After that Mr. Creed and I abroad, I doing several errands, and with him at last to the great coffee-house, and there after some common discourse we parted and I home, paying what I owed at the Mitre in my way, and at home Sympson the joyner coming he set up my press for my cloaks and other small things, and so to my office a little, and to supper, and to bed.
This morning Mr. Blackburne came to me, and telling me what complaints Will made of the usage he had from my wife and other discouragements, and, I seeing him, instead of advising, rather favouring his kinsman, I told him freely my mind, but friendlily, and so we have concluded to have him have a lodging elsewhere, and that I will spare him 15l. of his salary, and if I do not need to keep another 20l..
all for art
paying my way
the small things I made
to free my mind
lodging elsewhere
are not to keep
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Wednesday 28 October 1663.
Up, and my uncle Thomas and his scrivener bringing me a bond and affidavit to my mind, I paid him his 20l. for his daughter’s legacy, and 5l. more for a Quarter’s annuity, in the manner expressed in each acquittance, to which I must be referred on any future occasion, and to the bond and affidavit.
Thence to the office and there sat till noon, and then home to dinner, and after dinner (it being a foul house to-day among my maids, making up their clothes) abroad with my Will with me by coach to Dr. Williams, and with him to the Six Clerks’s office, and there, by advice of his acquaintance, I find that my case, through my neglect and the neglect of my lawyers, is come to be very bad, so as that it will be very hard to get my bill retayned again. However, I got him to sign and swear an affidavit that there was treaties between T. Trice and me with as much advantage as I could for me, but I will say that for him he was most exact as ever I saw man in my life, word by word what it was that he swore to, and though, God forgive me, I could have been almost naturally willing to have let him ignorantly have sworn to something that was not of itself very certain, either or no, yet out of his own conscience and care he altered the words himself so as to make them very safe for him to swear. This I carrying to my clerk Wilkinson, and telling him how I heard matters to stand, he, like a conceited fellow, made nothing of it but advised me to offer Trice’s clerks the cost of the dismission, viz., 46s. 8d., which I did, but they would not take it without his client. Immediately thereupon we parted, and met T. Trice coming into the room, and he came to me and served me with a subpoena for these very costs, so I paid it him, but Lord! to see his resolution, and indeed discretion, in the wording of his receipt, he would have it most express to my greatest disadvantage that could be, yet so as I could not deny to give it him. That being paid, my clerke, and then his began to ask why we could not think, being friends, of referring it, or stating it, first ourselves, and then put it to some good lawyer to judge in it. From one word to more we were resolved to try, and to that end to step to the Pope’s Head Taverne, and there he and his Clerke and Attorney and I and my Clerke, and sent for Mr. Smallwood, and by and by comes Mr. Clerke, my Solicitor, and after I had privately discoursed with my men and seen how doubtfully they talked, and what future certain charge and trouble it would be, with a doubtful victory, I resolved to condescend very low, and after some talke all together Trice and I retired, and he came to 150l. the lowest, and I bid him 80l.. So broke off and then went to our company, and they putting us to a second private discourse, at last I was contented to give him 100l., he to spend 40s. of it among this good company that was with us. So we went to our company, both seeming well pleased that we were come to an end, and indeed I am in the respects above said, though it be a great sum for us to part with.
I am to pay him by giving him leave to buy about 40l. worth of Piggott’s land and to strike off so much of Piggott’s debt, and the other to give him bond to pay him in 12 months after without interest, only giving him a power to buy more land of Piggott and paying him that way as he did for the other, which I am well enough contented with, or at least to take the land at that price and give him the money. This last I did not tell him, but I shall order it so.
Having agreed upon to-morrow come se’nnight for the spending of the 40s. at Mr. Rawlinson’s, we parted, and I set T. Trice down in Paul’s Churchyard and I by coach home and to my office, and there set down this day’s passages, and so home to supper and to bed.
Mr. Coventry tells me to-day that the Queen had a very good night last night; but yet it is strange that still she raves and talks of little more than of her having of children, and fancys now that she hath three children, and that the girle is very like the King. And this morning about five o’clock waked (the physician feeling her pulse, thinking to be better able to judge, she being still and asleep, waked her) and the first word she said was, “How do the children?”
however I sign and swear
word by word what
have I not altered
from one private doubt
I descend
to a private land
with enough night
to set down this day’s passages
like children
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Tuesday 27 October 1663.
Waked about one o’clock in the morning to piss (having gone so soon over-night to bed) and then my wife being waked rung her bell, and the mayds rose and went to washing, we to sleep again till 7 o’clock, and then up, and I abroad to look out Dr. Williams, but being gone out I went to Westminster, and there seeing my Lord Sandwich’s footman knew he was come to town, and so I went in and saw him, and received a kind salute from him, but hear that my father is very ill still. Thence to Westminster Hall with Creed, and spent the morning walking there, where, it being Terme time, I met several persons, and talked with them, among others Dr. Pierce, who tells me that the Queen is in a way to be pretty well again, but that her delirium in her head continues still; that she talks idle, not by fits, but always, which in some lasts a week after so high a fever, in some more, and in some for ever; that this morning she talked mightily that she was brought to bed, and that she wondered that she should be delivered without pain and without spueing or being sicke, and that she was troubled that her boy was but an ugly boy. But the King being by, said, “No, it is a very pretty boy.” — “Nay,” says she, “if it be like you it is a fine boy indeed, and I would be very well pleased with it.”
The other day she talked mightily of Sir H. Wood’s lady’s great belly, and said if she should miscarry he would never get another, and that she never saw such a man as this Sir H. Wood in her life, and seeing of Dr. Pridgeon, she said, “Nay, Doctor, you need not scratch your head, there is hair little enough already in the place.”
But methinks it was not handsome for the weaknesses of Princes to be talked of thus.
Thence Creed and I to the King’s Head ordinary, where much and very good company, among others one very talking man, but a scholler, that would needs put in his discourse and philosophy upon every occasion, and though he did well enough, yet his readiness to speak spoilt all. Here they say that the Turkes go on apace, and that my Lord Castlehaven is going to raise 10,000 men here for to go against him; that the King of France do offer to assist the Empire upon condition that he may be their Generalissimo, and the Dolphin chosen King of the Romans: and it is said that the King of France do occasion this difference among the Christian Princes of the Empire, which gives the Turke such advantages. They say also that the King of Spayne is making all imaginable force against Portugal again.
Thence Creed and I to one or two periwigg shops about the Temple, having been very much displeased with one that we saw, a head of greasy and old woman’s haire, at Jervas’s in the morning; and there I think I shall fit myself of one very handsomely made. Thence by coach, my mind being troubled for not meeting with Dr. Williams, to St. Catharine’s to look at a Dutch ship or two for some good handsome maps, but met none, and so back to Cornhill to Moxon’s, but it being dark we staid not to see any, then to coach again, and presently spying Sir W. Batten; I ‘light and took him in and to the Globe in Fleete Streete, by appointment, where by and by he and I with our solicitor to Sir E Turner about Field’s business, and back to the Globe, and thither I sent for Dr. Williams, and he is willing to swear in my behalf against T. Trice, viz., that at T. Trice’s desire we have met to treat about our business.
Thence (I drinking no wine) after an hour’s stay Sir W. Batten and another, and he drinking, we home by coach, and so to my office and set down my Journall, and then home to supper and to bed, my washing being in a good condition over.
I did give Dr. Williams 20s. tonight, but it was after he had answered me well to what I had to ask him about this business, and it was only what I had long ago in my petty bag book allotted for him besides the bill of near 4l. which I paid him a good while since by my brother Tom for physique for my wife, without any consideration to this business that he is to do for me, as God shall save me.
Among the rest, talking of the Emperor at table to-day one young gentleman, a pretty man, and it seems a Parliament man, did say that he was a sot; for he minded nothing of the Government, but was led by the Jesuites. Several at table took him up, some for saying that he was a sot in being led by the Jesuites, are the best counsel he can take. Another commander, a Scott Collonell, who I believe had several under him, that he was a man that had thus long kept out the Turke till now, and did many other great things, and lastly Mr. Progers, one of our courtiers, who told him that it was not a thing to be said of any Soveraigne Prince, be his weaknesses what they will, to be called a sot, which methinks was very prettily said.
sleep again being gone
I am in a delirium
as a boy in the woods
I saw every castle imaginable
my hand-made map
took me out of my book
without this nothing
to say under any ink
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Monday 26 October 1663.
There are many ways to inscribe
names on surfaces—ink on sheepskin
parchment, ink on paper pulped from the bark
of mulberry trees. Farther back: wet clay, ivory,
antlers and bone. Stone. The carving of letters
to leave a mark, a trace. Bright days drawn
with chalk, pigments scraped to smear
with fingers the memory of the lost.
For what are we but smoke and dust
churned from one cruel season to the next,
kissed then spurned, knighted then expelled?
Write my name on something that will last
more than a day—not to be immortal,
but to have some of my history survive.
What happened has barely cooled into a memory.
The ladder’s gone, the ambulances, the yellow tape.
What can we do in the aftermath of difficulty?
Flowers and words say Look here, look now.
The ladder’s gone, the ambulances, the yellow tape,
but a pall blankets the spaces we walk through.
Flowers, words, say Look here, look now. Not away.
Chalked tributes on brick in late afternoon sun,
a pall that blankets spaces we walk through.
Will elegy and eulogy ever be exhausted? Chalk
meets brick to offer one more, in late afternoon sun.
What have you ever loved enough to mourn?
Why aren’t elegy and eulogy ever exhausted?
We are stunned in the aftermath of tragedy.
Have you ever loved enough to mourn? Mourn.
What happened has barely cooled into memory.
A personal selection of posts from around the Anglophone blogosphere, including Substack, with a commitment to following a somewhat haphazardly chosen selection of poets, poetry lovers, literary critics and publishers over time. Although I tend to quote my favorite bits, please do click through and read the whole posts. You can also browse the blog digest archive at Via Negativa or, if you’d like it in your inbox, subscribe on Substack (where the posts might be truncated by some email providers).
This week: the roundedness of stanzas, the coalfield’s fold, a million year-old fly in amber, Auden as a rapper, and much more. Enjoy.
Continue reading “Poetry Blog Digest 2026, Week 43”
(Lord’s day). Up, and my wife and I to church, where it is strange to see how by use and seeing Pembleton come with his wife thither to church, I begin now to make no great matter of it, which before was so terrible to me. Dined at home, my wife and I alone, a good dinner, and so in the afternoon to church again, where the Scot preached, and I slept most of the afternoon. So home, and my wife and I together all the evening discoursing, and then after reading my vowes to myself, and my wife with her mayds (who are mighty busy to get it dispatched because of their mistress’s promise, that when it is done they shall have leave all to go see their friends at Westminster, whither my wife will carry them) preparing for their washing to-morrow, we hastened to supper and to bed.
church is strange
to come to alone
I ache and sing
to myself
and the mist I see
as tomorrow
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Sunday 25 October 1663.
Early 15c., “something which occurs casually in connection
with something else,” from Old French incident (13c.), and directly
from Latin incidentem (nominative incidens), present participle of incidere
“to fall in, fall, find the way; light upon, fall in with; fall upon, occur;
happen, befall”
– Etymology Online
To fall or befall, to occur or to happen. Infinitives
that may be used as a noun, an adjective, an adverb.
In and only of itself, an incident requires an act of
relation. Something against which it becomes possible
to say here it derives from, is a mere instance of. A minor thing.
An almost randomness. But what of taxonomic hierarchy?
Class, genus, species—steps for organizing living things
according to broadest, then broader, then more individual
categories. A species not a minor form of, but unique.
Not incident nor accident, this expression of life.
If something were mere incident, would it be assigned
nomenclature? The genus name, followed by the epithet.
A system for recording physical traits, provenance or
origin. Traits. Habits. Appearance. A body. A significance.
Up and to my office, where busy all the morning about Mr. Gauden’s account, and at noon to dinner with him at the Dolphin, where mighty merry by pleasant stories of Mr. Coventry’s and Sir J. Minnes’s, which I have put down some of in my book of tales. Just as I was going out my uncle Thomas came to the with a draught of a bond for him and his sons to sign to me about the payment of the 20l. legacy, which I agreed to, but he would fain have had from me the copy of the deed, which he had forged and did bring me yesterday, but I would not give him it. Says I perceive then you will keep it to defame me with, and desired me not to speak of it, for he did it innocently. Now I confess I do not find any great hurt in the thing, but only to keep from me a sight of the true original deed, wherein perhaps there was something else that may touch this business of the legacy which he would keep from me, or it may be, it is really lost as he says it is. But then he need not have used such a slight, but confess it without danger.
Thence by coach with Mr. Coventry to the Temple, and thence I to the Six Clerks’ office, and discoursed with my Attorney and Solicitor, and he and I to Mr. Turner, who puts me in great fear that I shall not get retayned again against Tom Trice; which troubles me.
Thence, it being night, homewards, and called at Wotton’s and tried some shoes, but he had none to fit me. He tells me that by the Duke of York’s persuasion Harris is come again to Sir W. Davenant upon his terms that he demanded, which will make him very high and proud. Thence to another shop, and there bought me a pair of shoes, and so walked home and to my office, and dispatch letters by the post, and so home to supper and to bed, where to my trouble I find my wife begin to talk of her being alone all day, which is nothing but her lack of something to do, for while she was busy she never, or seldom, complained. She hath also a pain in the place which she used to have swellings in; and that that troubles me is that we fear that it is my matter that I give her that causes it, it never coming but after my having been with her.
The Queen is in a good way of recovery; and Sir Francis Pridgeon hath got great honour by it, it being all imputed to his cordiall, which in her dispaire did give her rest and brought her to some hopes of recovery.
It seems that, after the much talk of troubles and a plot, something is found in the North that a party was to rise, and some persons that were to command it are found, as I find in a letter that Mr. Coventry read to-day about it from those parts.
in my book of tales
you desire me
not to speak
only to touch
shoes that make a pair
shoes that never despair
over a plot
thin as we are
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Saturday 24 October 1663.