Cento -
–noun, plural -tos.
| 1. | a piece of writing, esp. a poem, composed wholly of quotations from the works of other authors. |
| 2. | anything composed of incongruous parts; conglomeration. |
There are 43 poems of WWI secreted in the following cento. Special prize for whoever gets all 43...
Cento
Move him into the sun -
let him hate you.
The undone years, the hopelessness
molten right through.
His whole face kissed the mud among the apple trees
poor young chap, wrapped in dangerous safety.
Knocked silly with guns and mines,
the whims of murder, sprawled in the bowels of the earth
the bones of comrades;
saints in broken shrines - a dust whom
Dark earth and wire - sinister threat lurks here,
the poignant misery of dawn - sunlight seems a bloodsmear.
Immortal darkness on strong eyes -
poor unpitied Caliban dribbling black blood.
He will never walk that road again.
Strange-eyed constellations, the magic of spring.
Youth feels immortal - never such innocence again.
Mangled limbs and dying groans have challenged death.
Blind with blood and waterfalls of slime
he howled and beat his chest -
the pain leapt like a prowling beast;
acid vapours hovering dense creep back silent.
The November sky quivers the shell-chopped trees
- mankind perished utterly.
The breathless air outside the misty pains,
the tenderness of patient minds.
Why don’t they come?
No man knows why.
Will they ever come?
Does it matter?
