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
