A Village Of Box (poem – cento)

So Tuesday’s dVerse Poets prompt, “April Poems Bring May Centos”, was of two possibilities. Choose any line from any poem from those provided and write a poem including the line or inspired by it or, you could instead, try your hand at a “cento” (a poetic work wholly composed of verses or passages taken from other authors) also from any of the poems provided and to use at least two. In this case those poems provided for both were from April dVerse poetry prompts.

There were selections of poems from six different prompts and I went with the ones for “A Box Of Poems”, a prompt summarized as “write a poem of your own metaphorical box of 3 stanzas, the box, what’s in it, where’s it kept”. Then I decided to take the “Cento” route with this prompt as I had never done such.

7 poems and one of mine, also of a box, that used the prompt for inspiration but strayed from the particulars and went a different way.

So, the poems used for this Cento then . . .

Hidden In My Box – Bjorn Rudberg

History Box – Kim M. Russell

I Have Emptied You To The Wind – Paul Vincent Cannon

Empty Cereal Box – Melissa Lemay

Here Is A Box – Dora A.K.

My Master – Ben Alexander

Boxed – Punam – paeansunplugged

Cigar Box – Frankenberry

.

A Village of Box

The boxes are piling up

.

I made my box from stone

My box is made of cardboard

An empty cereal box

My box is forged of carbon steel

Made by human hands this box is

“Boxed” – I carry a bit of this and a bit of that

Here is a box (I won’t bore you)

Look-see, look-see (no you can’t see)

.

Inside it’s worn bent frame are crumbs and sugar dust

I filled it with dreams, ambitions of verses, ideals enshrined

Pale blue adorned with simple flowers

Pieces of a life,

Old photos, childhood toys,

Books strewn about

Images in sepia, monochrome and colour,

Higgedly-piggedly, no order

A repository of various thingamajigs

Disintegrating petal of pressed petunia

A bit of cloth, a coat of arms, from a school sweater smelling of defiance

A bundle of yellowing letters never sent

Once I held you close

an every day memory

.

I do not really keep my box,

So much as it keeps me

I’ve lived inside this box like a toy

.

Whatever you see of it, my dear,

Well, truth is, I see even less

It would have surrendered to the elements

Of mind and body by now

But I have emptied your contents to the wind

Setting me free