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SLAUGHTER HOUSE
Author: Durlabh Singh
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SLAUGHTER HOUSE
Stupefied in this vast slaughter house
Where the fingers of crude murderers seek
The napes of neck the sheaf of hair
Forget settled ways now just seek mad heroism.
This is the end of me perhaps wind will carry
On back of coarse canvas a song of prejudice
To torture to kill cut down the sleepy slopes
Along hills where spiders set fire to hazel leaves.
The forces of intimidation settling on waxpod
Marshes
Into tasteless heaps of gold and the marbled
Symptoms
Filled with guillotined leaves ad the barren
Forest
The universe mislaid now among some nocturnal
Trivials.
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THE BATS
Author: Durlabh Singh
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THE BATS
Dark dark the jocund space with downy flesh
Black bannered hideous gloomier than rest
Under the low hanging tattered rugged sky
Float clouds dark tortured low lit as night.
A shoal of bats deep as rust
Tight footed damp smeared descend
Over the houses streets and creeks
Invading the dark deep dungeons in heaps.
The dungeon of my brain creeks and racks
While the shoal of obnoxious foxes descend
Each one fighting and probing deeper headed
Sucking last drainage of my refelled blood.
The fury of my blood has made them blind
In bunches they grope shriek and prowl
Blinded nerve rotten hindered to crawl.
Tired and thick with banging their heads
Against rafters spokes nails and knives
Hopelessly will hang themselves over cobwebs
Dimly constrained lured dumb and defied.
There they will hang like hope forlorn
Pitted from the depth drums will be sounded
The likes & days of noisier time will sanction
The shades of escape then will be outbounded
Hands of doom will climb to clutch their forms
And squeeze their brains along bloody hawthorn.
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THE SUNSET
Author: Durlabh Singh
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THE SUNSET
Sinking the sun will drown in its own blood
Touching
With last conscience its oozed out blood
Fingering
Bine stemmed branches of oak tree
Evil
Stormed by good twin present everlasting
Companioned
On high pinnioned seas.
Shrunk shriveled the heart
Shudders in tentacles of willow trees
Touching not the fervourless spirit
Resting unwearied for nothingness
Plumed and ruffled
By bird songs of no avail.
The death lament winded not
In wilded plains
Stormed downwards the reddish glow
Shining
With all the despaired
Brained and eyed
Ever felt by the human touch.
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TO MELANCHOLY
Author: Durlabh Singh
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TO MELANCHOLY
Dog footed deep rooted fist and fouled
Cankerous flea infested unglorified scowled
Floating above the four walled space
Drowning not thyself but every chequered face.
Wing wilted uninhibited web footed guest
Seeking not short lived stay but being adept
Burying your nailed claws in every nook
And the floor space
Even deeper steadier stiffer
For your imperished stage.
I can see your monstrous form when I wake
It hovers over me in sleep and shakes
Every deep rooted breath with lizard and snake.
I wishing the fisted strength to drive you & trod
Over the dunes unsung unrapturous over beaten sod.
Dog footed deep rooted melancholy be not amazed
If I throw myself and you out in the maze.
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TOUCHING AGAIN
Author: Durlabh Singh
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TOUCHING AGAIN
Having touched that skies were gold
Having touched wanton winds carrying knives
Having touched that wandering eyes were sweet
And having touched the bitter taste of each smile.
Having touched the brindled blossoms
That speared the wings of each firefly
Having touched the gateways leading nowhere
And having touched vicarious verse which defies.
Having touched the meadowy slips of dew
Having touched the chaste hungers of bereft
Having touched the springs that kept murmuring
In adoration of cool waters in the mountain clefts.
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