Purveyors of fine poetry since 2003.
Starting January 1, 2013, this is a daily exercise in erasure poetry based on the 17th-century Diary of Samuel Pepys. Why this work? Its language is admirably concrete, with recurring words and turns of phrase shaped by the exigencies of Pepys’ original shorthand. In thought and content it stands at the beginning of the modern era: the first truly confessional piece of literature by a man equally fascinated by religion and science, and whose curiosity encompassed everything from music-making and theater to mathematics, accounting, politics, fashion, and carnal pleasures. And last but not least, the 1899 Wheatley edition is available online in a website that is really a model for how to present literature on the web. It was my desire to read it day by day that led to this project, which I view not as erasure but as discovery—a kind of deep (mis)reading. Pepys was a sexual predator and an architect of British colonialism who personally profited off the slave trade, so any less than an engaged, critical reading of the diary, in this day and age, would be irresponsible. From a secret diary, these are the secret poems hidden even from the author himself.
I began compiling the erasures into free ebooks in 2017. Here are 1664, 1665, 1666, 1667, 1668 and 1669, and from my second attempt, here are 1660 and 1661.
A bottle in a ship in a boat:
what arms and flags?
Silk clothes, a rich
noise of fiddlers.
What will be the entertainment?
Jurates of the town
and the vice-admiral.
Where to drink?
In the lost ship,
in bed in my cabin,
where I gave the bottle
a merry good night.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Monday 7 May 1660.
At sermon, I doze.
I remember a large man of small mien
who told me my convulsions gave
great contentment to the Lord.
I look over my accounts
and find a sea in my purse.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Sunday 6 May 1660.
A quaint command:
think of kindness, thank for kindness.
After supper, good music and bed.
Strew the streets with herbs for joy of going.
Never pray for happiness as long as the sun
and moon endure.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Saturday 5 May 1660.
War is a roar, a Vive le Roi
from one to another possessed servant
with the king’s lips.
The speakers suffer nothing more
than to be loyal, dutiful, faithful
and obedient ninepins.
No place to belong to,
every man is clerk of the signet.
Minister and army tell me
that pain is a present.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Friday 4 May 1660.
The land troubles me,
and I am against the sea.
I cry out at the sight of a ship,
and hear bullets go hissing overhead
in a transport of joy.
I perceive unknown letters
in familiar words.
Strange things please me.
I put great confidence in the thoughts
of a thick-skulled fool.
Ordinary business must be
not served but feared.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Thursday 3 May 1660.
A breakfast of radishes:
the happiest act of oblivion
in the Church of No.
I disclaim any other government but fire
and in the body, joy.
No money or credit, I spend time, play music.
I came to bring this news
and a bottle of wine.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Wednesday 2 May 1660.
People
have
set up
maypoles;
I resolve
to hide.
I count
myself
a perfect
stone of
heaven,
a park
without
a gate,
a pistol
for pins.
In my
cabin
writing,
I hear
a great
rose
drown
in the
streets.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Tuesday 1 May 1660.
The day being very pleasant,
I drank like a drunk, very pleasant,
and puzzled about finding out
the meaning of the holes
and merry spigot
in my head.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Monday 30 April 1660.
I put on first my
fine cloth cloak,
put on a pack
locked till Tuesday
that I may read
in the open,
keep a fast and
keep from sitting
as if in chains.
I walked
a great while
upon the deck.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Sunday 29 April 1660.
To play
and gain
and own
no money
exceeding
merry
I sing
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Saturday 28 April 1660.