It
took me a while, but yesterday I finally settled in and wrote a cento to fit
the prompt from ReadWritePoem.org.
I
chose the cento form – a poem created from other poems. I chose a poem written
by Sir Phillip Stanley, an English renaissance poet, whose work I happened upon
while making some art trading cards. I got this particular poetry collection at
a used book sale and while these poems are not ones I would sit and devour all
at once like I devour Mary Oliver or Denise Levertov, their beautiful yet
succinct, savory language works remarkably well in collage and visual art.
My
eyes happened upon Stanley’s poem with the lines, “God, help us” and “female
frenzy” and “love is dead” – I knew I was onto something.
Alas,
this morning when I came to blog it and add it to the list at RWP, it had
disappeared… which reminded me of the very theme for the poems we were to write
this week – poems reflecting “Let’s Get it On”. One of the markers of the end
of relationships is when “getting it on” literally gets up and leaves.
This short poem, written in mourning of the other poem and “getting it on” is the response to this week’s wistful meanderings through words and intimacy’s graveyard.
IT LEFT
It
left --
Escaped
from
Its place on
The
kitchen
Table
My
poem
The
cento
Sir
Philip
Stanley
wrote
With
me
Yesterday
I
smiled
Shyly
into
Its
surprising
Combinations
And
this
Morning
Just
like that
Untended
it
Vanishes
Stays
unfound
So
I am left
With
the poignant
Recollection
Of what was
As the saying goes about making lemonade from lemons, you did that from your unfortunate "missing" poem.
It made me feel the hollowness of loss and a certain inevitability. Very good!
Posted by: Cynthia Short | March 25, 2010 at 06:28 AM
A tangible feeling of loss in this. Poignant. Excellent.
Posted by: Anthony North | March 25, 2010 at 08:05 AM
Hi Julie,
Such fleeting pleasure! But better to have loved and lost .....
Posted by: Derrick | March 25, 2010 at 08:44 AM
I like the poem. I can relate to poems vanishing.
Posted by: Matt Quinn | March 25, 2010 at 09:29 AM
I enjoyed this -- and hope perhaps the prodigal piece will come home...
...rob
Image & Verse
Posted by: rob kistner | March 25, 2010 at 10:15 AM
Julie,
Excellent poem! Poignant!
Pamela
Posted by: pamela | March 25, 2010 at 04:47 PM
I'm eager to read your next post, for I saw before I got here that it once was lost but now is found. I really like this one, though. I lost a haiku once - it blew right out the car window on the way to work. I ended up writing a long poem that took me from home to work, searching for my lost haiku. I think someone said, make lemonade! ;-)
Posted by: Karen | March 25, 2010 at 06:09 PM
I love how this poem combines the cento on a piece of paper (there, then gone) with the legendary Sir Philip Stanley (once on earth alive, then gone). For me, the poem suggests that Sir Philip Stanley somehow came and took the poem away for himself -- that he who was once gone RETURNED and then left again (or maybe is still around? maybe returned the poem to you?). I really liked that extra layer in this poem!
Posted by: Therese Broderick | March 26, 2010 at 08:34 AM
I love this poem, the listless waiting for the lost one...
Posted by: Uma Gowrishankar | March 27, 2010 at 05:13 AM
I like how you address your missing poem with the "missing" of and longing for it in this piece. I really would have loved to seen your original. The cento form continues to fascinate me.
-Nicole
Posted by: Nicole Nicholson | March 29, 2010 at 12:34 PM