"How can we live without the unknown before us?" (Rene Char)

Via Negativa Daily Digest

Poem With or Without Time

Written by Luisa A. Igloria on Oct 17, 2019 12:00 am
In the fishing village of Sommaroy 
where the sun doesn't rise from
November to January and the sun
doesn't set for 69 days from May
to July, people have wrapped
their wristwatches along bridge
railings in order to feel more
unburdened by darkness.
Whereas in Paris, to signify
Forever, couples used to fasten
padlocks to the Pont des Arts
before throwing the key into
the waters of the Seine below.
At the height of a thunderstorm
or during hurricanes, the power
will flicker then go off for hours.
When it comes back, each digital
clock throughout the house flashes
a different time: some randomly reset
to 12:00, others remember when
the power went off. A few seem
to forget what time zone they're in,
and reset to an hour or three
behind. I just read a novel in which
the husband spent 7 years in prison;
when he came out, his wife had moved
on with her life. Would you blame her
for doing so? Would you blame him
for expecting the world as he knew it
not to change? Seals, penguins,
turtles, and whales have been known
to go back to where they were born
in order to breed or die. There's
something in the air that notifies
them when it's time. Their bodies
instinctively rewind, as if
the present ceased to exist,
as if the future is once again
the illusion it always was.

Storm light

Written by Dave Bonta on Oct 16, 2019 04:58 pm

(Lord’s day). Up, and after visiting my father in his chamber, to church, and then home to dinner. Little Michell and his wife come to dine with us, which they did, and then presently after dinner I with Sir J. Minnes to White Hall, where met by Sir W. Batten and Lord Bruncker, to attend the King and Duke of York at the Cabinet; but nobody had determined what to speak of, but only in general to ask for money. So I was forced immediately to prepare in my mind a method of discoursing. And anon we were called in to the Green Room, where the King, Duke of York, Prince Rupert, Lord Chancellor, Lord Treasurer, Duke of Albemarle, [Sirs] G. Carteret, W. Coventry, Morrice. Nobody beginning, I did, and made a current, and I thought a good speech, laying open the ill state of the Navy: by the greatness of the debt; greatness of work to do against next yeare; the time and materials it would take; and our incapacity, through a total want of money. I had no sooner done, but Prince Rupert rose up and told the King in a heat, that whatever the gentleman had said, he had brought home his fleete in as good a condition as ever any fleete was brought home; that twenty boats would be as many as the fleete would want: and all the anchors and cables left in the storm might be taken up again. This arose from my saying, among other things we had to do, that the fleete was come in — the greatest fleete that ever his Majesty had yet together, and that in as bad condition as the enemy or weather could put it; and to use Sir W. Pen’s words, who is upon the place taking a survey, he dreads the reports he is to receive from the Surveyors of its defects. I therefore did only answer, that I was sorry for his Highness’s offence, but that what I said was but the report we received from those entrusted in the fleete to inform us. He muttered and repeated what he had said; and so, after a long silence on all hands, nobody, not so much as the Duke of Albemarle, seconding the Prince, nor taking notice of what he said, we withdrew. I was not a little troubled at this passage, and the more when speaking with Jacke Fenn about it, he told me that the Prince will be asking now who this Pepys is, and find him to be a creature of my Lord Sandwich’s, and therefore this was done only to disparage him. Anon they broke, up, and Sir W. Coventry come out; so I asked his advice. He told me he had said something to salve it, which was, that his Highnesse had, he believed, rightly informed the King that the fleete is come in good condition to have staid out yet longer, and have fought the enemy, but yet that Mr. Pepys his meaning might be, that, though in so good condition, if they should come in and lie all the winter, we shall be very loth to send them to sea for another year’s service with[out] great repairs. He said it would be no hurt if I went to him, and showed him the report himself brought up from the fleete, where every ship, by the Commander’s report, do need more or less, and not to mention more of Sir W. Pen for doing him a mischief. So I said I would, but do not think that all this will redound to my hurt, because the truth of what I said will soon appear. Thence, having been informed that, after all this pains, the King hath found out how to supply us with 5 or 6000l., when 100,000l. were at this time but absolutely necessary, and we mentioned 50,000l.. This is every day a greater and greater omen of ruine. God fit us for it! Sir J. Minnes and I home (it raining) by coach, calling only on Sir G. Carteret at his lodging (who is I find troubled at my Lord Treasurer and Sir Ph. Warwicke bungling in his accounts), and come home to supper with my father, and then all to bed. I made my brother in his cassocke to say grace this day, but I like his voice so ill that I begin to be sorry he hath taken this order upon him.

the green time of the storm
had the greatest weather

silence is a creature
of the winter air

but all this rain
is home to my voice

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Sunday 7 October 1666.

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