How I Write A Cento in 4 Steps

Plan. Harvest. Arrange. Finalize.

Writing a cento is about creating a mash-up. Sewing together, from other works, a new one with its own heartbeat.

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Dear friends,

Today’s deep-dive is a how-to rather than close reading. I’ve been writing a lot of centos lately for a manuscript in progress (whose name, of course, I cannot utter lest it disappear into the ether). The process and dynamics of writing centos are things I’ve given a lot of thought to, and I’m ready to eff this stuff up!

Traditionally: A cento poem is a combination of lines from other poets stitched together to make a new poem. (I’ve written about centos before, and you can find that article here.) 

But if you take the cento definition loosely—as texts being re-purposed—it’s a whole, vast universe. After all, you can repurpose lines of text from anywhere. If you think about it too much, you might find yourself asking, rhetorically or literally, what’s not a poem?

As long as you don’t use exclusively “non-found” text, boom: you’ve got a cento. Congrats!

And who says “found” can’t include a writer’s own body of work? 

Unlike more rule-heavy forms, there’s just one, challenging assignment: sew together, from other texts, a new one with its own heartbeat. Keeping the spirit of the form alive is what matters. 

Okay, enough pontification. Here’s how I write a cento. 

1. Plan

The first question, of course, is where do you want to source your lines? Using lines from other poets’ poems is the traditional route, but the possibilities are myriad: 

• Novels

• Academic essays 

• Movies & tv shows

• Memoirs

• Your own published or unpublished work 

• Speeches

• Scientific studies 

• News stories 

• DMs you’ve received 

• Emails

And you don’t have to pick just one source!

“Cento'' comes from the Latin word for “patchwork”, after all. Are there multiple texts that might create a spark when held together? Are there texts you’d like to see juxtaposed? Are there texts that might help tell a story that’s been in the back of your mind? 

No worries if the answer to all of the above is “no”, though—discovering your subject matter halfway through writing is how some of the best ideas emerge. 

If no pathway comes to mind, just pick a couple of favorite written (or transcribe-able) materials, and get them in front of you. 

2. Harvest

I love this part: Picking all of the lines I want without having any rhyme or reason (yet). 

This part also takes me the longest. I like to have a lot of potential lines to work with. I also like to pull anything interesting—regardless of what direction I have in mind for the poem.

I’d recommend collecting at least twenty lines to start, but you may find you’re having fun and want to keep harvesting. With too few lines, it may be harder to make your lines mesh. However, too many options can also make it hard to sort through and find your focus.

Over time, you’ll get a sense of what a good sentence-palette looks like for your writing process. Right now, just experiment! 

Helpful hint:

Don’t forget to keep track of your sources. This is obvious if you’re borrowing lines from another writer who you will need to credit, but it’s also good to keep track when you’re using less conventional sources. If you’re using a TV show, which episode was it, and who said the line? If you’re using your favorite novel, what’s the page number? 

While no one’s likely to ask you for a page number or a timestamp, having this information can be helpful in the writing process. You may want to go back to the scene or paragraph to change what’s excerpted, give you inspiration, verify wording, and so on. 

3. Arrange 

Here you are, amidst all of your glimmering, potential-rich lines. You have an open canvas i.e. blank page to stitch them together however you want. Have you ever felt more prepared? Have you?

Rejoice artists: This is the part where you get to play! 

Clues: 

• Move the lines around with ease and whimsy 

• Find strong pairings

• Find some line combinations/stanzas with energy 

• Make the lines into a storyboard or a riddle or a love letter

• Or a plate of spaghetti or a song or an instruction manual 

• Or a promise or a family tree or a pattern of breathing 

Maybe multiple themes come through. Keep arranging and trying different things. Once you get a feel for your lines, they’ll start to resonate in your head and come to you easier as you sort.

Through all of these combinations and arrangements, determine what pairing and stanzas resonate with you the most. 

4. Finalize

The last stage is finalizing the poem’s structure and soul. 

You’ve played, you’ve felt out each line in juxtaposition with the others. Maybe you realized you needed more lines and went back to harvest-stage, or that you had too many lines, or that some of them weren’t bringing the energy you needed. 

Through all of that work, some of these arrangements or emergent themes felt good and true to you, letting you know you’re onto something. 

Now it’s time to double down. Find more lines, if needed, that will fill in any gaps or strengthen the poem. 

Once you feel the pieces are all there, arrange them again, if needed. Decide which lines should be together in a stanza, and notice how the “narrative” or action of the poem moves from stanza to stanza.

If it’s still not hitting for you, figure out why—and whether the poem needs a new line, less lines, etc. 

Helpful hint:

Just because it’s a cento doesn’t mean it can’t be another form, as well. Try out writing a cento persona, a cento ghazal, a cento self-portrait—the possibilities are endless.

Read on for specific prompts to write your own cento poetry, as well a reading list of centos you can find online.