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Letter-poems – Via Negativa



Purveyors of fine poetry since 2003.



Last Build Date: Wed, 22 Nov 2017 05:17:24 +0000

 



Apostate

Wed, 08 Apr 2015 00:10:29 +0000

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys: "I listen to people say something of saving their souls, but prayers vex me. Change and good wine trouble my head of glass, my head of lead. Great is the land set upon by sea. Hope is not true."



Outskirts

Fri, 17 Oct 2014 06:27:49 +0000

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys: "A blind place where the rails have an agreement not to conclude—"



Televangelist

Fri, 16 May 2014 18:06:29 +0000

With my all-day joy but a job, I order books to put me into fear of fire.



Our Forgetting

Tue, 30 Jun 2009 12:12:08 +0000

Dear Dave, June light lengthens, pulled like string from a ball of twine, or like days in the far north, strands of hair so thin night doesn’t come for months […]



Letter from Midsummer

Thu, 25 Jun 2009 02:51:54 +0000

Dear Todd, I wonder what air & daylight mean to the boletes holding their brown platters up, or to Indian pipes with their white swan necks? I guess it’s dissolution […]



Letter with May’s Insatiable Hunger Tagging Along

Sat, 16 May 2009 14:43:14 +0000

Dear Dave, Most of the days have been full of green rain and clouds the color of magnolia petals as they rot in the emerging grasses. Three weeks ago I […]



Spring distractions

Thu, 07 May 2009 20:41:52 +0000

Dear Todd, The first azaleas are just beginning to bloom, with the usual profusion of scent that would put a hooker to shame. But who eulogizes the odorless oak blossoms, […]



Over the Hills

Mon, 23 Mar 2009 02:14:37 +0000

[audio:https://www.vianegativa.us/wp-content/uploads/2009/03/over-the-hills.mp3] Dear Todd, I was taking the broom for a slow shuffle around the dining room when I heard the fluting of wild swans & rushed out, scanning the sky […]


Media Files:
https://www.vianegativa.us/wp-content/uploads/2009/03/over-the-hills.mp3




Forgive Me

Wed, 11 Feb 2009 16:07:26 +0000

Dear Dave, What is life but fingers placed against blood’s rhythm, some outward movement, the soul’s coming and going like a kettle of kestrel that fly up against a ridge […]



Snow Moon

Tue, 10 Feb 2009 02:44:01 +0000

Dear Todd, It’s late afternoon on a warm day in the cold month of my birth. I step outside & listen to the familiar drumming of a pileated woodpecker on […]