Post by Jo Lynn Ehnes on Dec 4, 2008 11:15:52 GMT -5
"Fiercely do I strive to show
the depth to which my soul doth fall.
With angelic voice she sings
her siren song and beauty draws
me into sterling eyes so bright.
She walks along the windswept stair,
enticing me with winsome dreams...
but they aren't love -
Swirling in an internal tempest,
hiding in a different time,
where creaking elm swayed low,
I bowed to thee before thy throne,
my glass in joyful toast.
I am lost in immortal lovers' stare,
held rapt by the enchantment,
but destined must I be to fail
because love implies two.
When chill winter winds sing
in huge drops raining bliss and agony
I wondered when I would
proclaim a death that stings me so,
for mystic power she doth wield,
my heart entrapped.
Searching the shimmering soul-mirror,
valiantly I fight the veil,
having known the time
was time well spent.
Yet, silence falls in swirling flakes,
arrows pierce my broken heart,
devotion deftly lain
upon cold alter of the slain."
This is a Cento that I wrote off of Michael Cotner's poetry. The Cento to my understanding limits you to using one line out of any given poem. I did overstep that rule on this piece. But thought I'd share the beauty of Mike's art through different eyes.
I think the Cento is a beautiful way to express your admiration of other poets, not to mention the challenge you create for yourself. I've only composed three of them but I'll be doing more, I really enjoy piecing them together.
the depth to which my soul doth fall.
With angelic voice she sings
her siren song and beauty draws
me into sterling eyes so bright.
She walks along the windswept stair,
enticing me with winsome dreams...
but they aren't love -
Swirling in an internal tempest,
hiding in a different time,
where creaking elm swayed low,
I bowed to thee before thy throne,
my glass in joyful toast.
I am lost in immortal lovers' stare,
held rapt by the enchantment,
but destined must I be to fail
because love implies two.
When chill winter winds sing
in huge drops raining bliss and agony
I wondered when I would
proclaim a death that stings me so,
for mystic power she doth wield,
my heart entrapped.
Searching the shimmering soul-mirror,
valiantly I fight the veil,
having known the time
was time well spent.
Yet, silence falls in swirling flakes,
arrows pierce my broken heart,
devotion deftly lain
upon cold alter of the slain."
This is a Cento that I wrote off of Michael Cotner's poetry. The Cento to my understanding limits you to using one line out of any given poem. I did overstep that rule on this piece. But thought I'd share the beauty of Mike's art through different eyes.
I think the Cento is a beautiful way to express your admiration of other poets, not to mention the challenge you create for yourself. I've only composed three of them but I'll be doing more, I really enjoy piecing them together.
