Shreyasi Tripathi

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Cento for my body

(This Cento has been foraged from the works of - Tony Hoagland, Natalie Diaz, Yehuda Amichai, Ghalib, Frank O’Hara, Kay Ryan, EE Cummings, Bernadette Mayer, Mark Wunderlich, Danez Smith, Peter Gizzy, Monica Ferrell, Joyce Sutphen, Lee Herrick, W.H. Auden, Mary Oliver, Amie Whittemore, Kevin Varrone, Roger Reeves, Ocean Vuong, and Sylvia Plath)

No one, including me,
especially anymore believes
you are mine.

As far as I'm concerned
I wasn’t meant to love or be loved.
I am just a pile of leaves-
tenderness and rot.

Tired of this world tilted on its side-
you worship too much.
It is easy now to see
gravity at work in your face.

There is nothing beautiful here-
pile of bones and flesh
ballad of wild dreams and coping mechanisms,
labyrinth of desire, playing field of impulse-
wrote a thousand poems to survive.

There is nothing beautiful here.

We face each other
talk about childhood -
the love which makes us one,
the heart from where it comes.

You open always
petal by petal, myself.

Though this might take me a little time.
I will not be like you, Carapace.

(I will) let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves. Together,
we’ll change the sheets. I would fold myself
(in you) Someday, I’ll love a clean slate
with your own face on.


Credits for Cento for my body

No one including me especially anymore- Tony Hoagland, Windchime
You are mine- Natalie Diaz, These Hands, if not gods
As far as I am concerned - Yehuda Amichai, A pity, we were such a good invention
I wasn't meant to love or be loved - Ghalib (tr. Vijay Seshadri), No I wasn’t meant to love or be loved
I am just a pile of leaves- Frank O’Hara, Meditations in an Emergency
Tenderness and rot - Kay Ryan, Tenderness and Rot
Tired of this world tilted on its side - Mark Wunderlich, Difficult Body
You worship too much - Danez Smith, a note on the body
It is so easy now to see gravity at work in your face - Peter Gizzy, Lines Depicting Simple Happiness
There is nothing beautiful - Monica Ferrell, Poetry
Pile of bones and flesh - Joyce Sutphen, Living in the Body
A ballad of wild dreams and coping mechanisms. - Lee Herrick, How music stays in the body
Labyrinth of desire, playing field of impulse -Allisa Leigh, Body
Wrote one thousand poems to survive - Lee Herrick, How music stays in the body
You open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens- EE Cummings, somewhere I have never
travelled, gladly beyond
We face each other and talk about childhood- Bernadette Mayer, First turn to me....
Though this might take me a little time. - W.H. Auden, The More Loving One
I will not be like you, Carpace - Mark Wunderlich, Difficult Body
Let the soft animal of your body love what it loves - Mary Oliver, Wild Geese
Together, we’ll change the sheets - Amie Whittemore, Spell for the end of grief
I would fold myself - Kevin Varrone, poem I wrote sitting across the table from you
Someday, I’ll love - Frank O’Hara, Katy; Roger Reeves, Someday I’ll love Roger Reeves; Ocean Vuong
Someday I’ll love Ocean Vuong
A clean slate with your own face on - Sylvia Plath, You’re




a love poem

(subtitle)
I kill my beloveds more than I let them live.

I love you
(subtitle)
I am going to start mourning you now.

the tenderness we share           a line in your eulogy
the poems I write to you        to your mental stammer       to
every poem I write to you      this poem       an elegy
lamenting         the phantom to a limb    I haven’t lost yet.

I love you
(subtitle)

I have held
                  our lives in my palm
                                                     weighed it against
                                                                                     the gavel of death the depth of grief
& realized
even grieving you would be my pleasure.

​

 
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