Tag Archives: Cummings

Cento (of the sea)

A Cento is a poem made up entirely of lines and passages from other works, arranged in an order to mean something completely different. Here is a Cento comprised of a little bit of everything from Spike Milligan to Sylvia Plath. Enjoy! Let me know what you think.

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It’s always ourselves we find in the sea,
The green waves foam and thrust and slide,
the sea was wet as wet could be,
all my dreams come back to me.

It’s really best that tides come in
(The water soon came in, it did).
It looked so pitiful and sad,
despite this careful scrutiny.

Deeds cannot dream what dreams can do
No birds were flying overhead –
They “noticed” me-they noticed me
made of pumpkins and pelican glue.

A secret, kept from all the rest
(I never could talk to you)
Of pygmies, palms and pirates,
said the Duck to the Kangaroo.

There was an old man in a boat,
and as in uffish thought he stood,
they danced by the light of the moon.
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue,
I only sing the tunes.