An Interwoven Cento Poem #2

C_farmie

A Cento Poem with Lines Interwoven from Song of Myself (1892 version) BY WALT WHITMAN and Baudelaire BY DELMORE SCHWARTZ

I.
When I fall asleep, and even during sleep,
I see. Dance. Laugh. Sing. I hear
a voice quite distinctly, voices speaking.
Not words. Not music. Rhyme, and not even the best.
Bare-stript phrases from childhood houses
and rooms, full of perfumes.
I am almost happy.
I breathe the fragrance of myself, and know it.
When night comes in eddies of wind, I sniff
of hay in the barn, a few light kisses
, and
I shall write a history of my heart.

II.
When I fall asleep, and even during sleep,
The sound of the belch’d words of my
voice
I hear, quite distinctly, voices
speaking of the beginning or the end.
Whole phrases. From childhood.
Houses and rooms full of perfumes,
and for the first time in my long life,
I am almost happy.Almost.
And when night comes to eddies of wind,
I breathe the fragrance myself, and know it –

the same resolution, the same weakness.
I sniff of hay in the barn, and a few light kisses,
and I shall write a history of my heart.

 
 
  

 

©️ Misky 2020 4b and Miz Quickly a cento poem using lines from two other poems. Italicised lines are from Song of Myself, and normal are from Baudelaire. The image belongs to Cecilia at The Kitchen’s Garden

4 responses to “An Interwoven Cento Poem #2”

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