Two Poems


by Durlabh Singh

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SONNET   ONE



These are the domains of our inner pride
Boundless as thoughts free based as twilights
Hydra of incense spreading over billowing sea
Over dark passages of earth over all its spree
Survey mighty empire left unheeded by self conceit
Uncovered by clappers song undeemed by egoed plea
From clover burnt turmoils of the deeper self
Galloping shadows of our anxiety raced on
Basement triangular established on mulberry
Adding their weight against the winds of liberty
Roll up curtains let rays of darkness penetrate
Rancid smell of heath fires on our mercurial glades
This instant might constitute a milestone in our destiny
A squalid little adventure or the embellishment of liberty.


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LA   MANCHA.


Bereft of the poetry of his soul
The knight took refuge in the house of death
Into darkness he went with his mind crushed
Wandering lust gone and with his own trust.

The enchanter gone
And disenchantment entered
And the land of La Mancha
Slowly turned to dust & cinders.

Talisman of allurements or of feasts
Chimeras of windmills or of fabulous beasts
Golden liquors and the shining decanters
Tales of poets sorcerers and of wizards
Adieu to stillness and the romance
Tryst and other typographical stance.

His merry madness had to go
And sanguine sanity had to be constructed
Don Quixote had to be demolished
And Alfonso had to be resurrected.

Alas! there is no poetry left now
In the lands of the Al Toboso
And no veils of Dulcinea now accrues
Across the knight of the mournful rue.