dukesekhon sekhon

dukesekhon sekhon Poems

O cease! thy varied mumble, O Dream;

Though sweet is the droan as bumblebee's,
...

Aah, thou, a mystical hymn of soulful bliss,
Playing truant with mind’s imaginative harp.
Hark the music! so harmonious {but confoundedly amiss},
That lightens the spirit and gladdens the heart.
...

Onward I drive, Onward I withdraw,
I fight existence in the raw;
Till life itself should its aid withdraw,
Undaunted shall strive - and stake all!
...

What want may, we,

Heart's hoary outlaws have
...

You and I just sail along life’s tide -
High or low, we have little choosing;
If it bears you to the shores of your dreams,
You have made it. If it
...

Aah woe is me!
O thou cruel, clinging Inactivity!
Who habitually wraps itself around the prostrate
Form of its opiate victim, wringing out in small degrees
...

When I am short of ideas
Or at a loss for words,
I just rub my hands together
And create artificial warmth;
...

I live but to eat,
For I am of the bird and the bee -
If I have to create,
I’ll have to sweat it out -
...

11.

I flew an aeroplane.
If you don’t believe, then look again.
Don’t I remind you of a moth
That has burnt its wings off
...

If Thinkest thou from those lofty heights
Thou hast got any visionary insights,
Thou dost mislead thyself, as I might:
For I too have been up there in airplane,
...

Thou art a rose
That has blossomed sans growing thorns:
An error it is nature's, but thou shall,
In all probability, bear sufferance wrought by
...

La belle sans mercy hath thee enthrall.
“ Keats ’’

Oh, she is an angle, she is a witch!
...

Sick is th’ Nation, in hordes the poor die;
Th’ cry of th’ helpless rend the bleak sky.
Benign nature turns red in tooth and claw,
Madden’d by human callousness, to punish each flaw.
...

I love one - I love all;
Above all (I am an egoist) ,
I love myself. Even though
I rise to fall one fine day,
...

Extract from The Rape of the Lock- Alexander Pope

“But since, alas! frail beauty must decay,
Curl’d or uncurl’d, since Locks will turn to grey;
...

dukesekhon sekhon Biography

The Muse And I I am a retired Indian Air Force officer. My romance with poetry began some 35 years ago when I happened to pick up a book of Shelley's poetry from the local bookstore. This relationship is continuing to this day without having soured once or, for that matter, advanced beyond the initial ogles, winks, and aah! - sharing a few love notes. Yet, I seek and indulge in poetry for the sheer pleasure it affords me. I lay no pretentious claims to being a poet - call me a poetaster, if you must give my muse a name. I read and admire the Classical and the Romantic Poets of yore - Shelley, Keats, Byron, Pope to name a few. Their geniuses represent poetic genres and nuances in all its varied types and forms. This is best brought out when Keats says, ' poetry should surprise by a fine excess, and not by singularity '. As one's environment is bound to mould one's behaviour so is one's writing likely to be influenced by what one reads. By this premise, to my mind, words such as 'thou' and 'thine', though archaic in nature, would always justify their usage at least in poetic forms so long as the works of Shakespeare and those of the great poets of yore remain relevant to the present and the succeeding ages. Therefore, if archaic words pervade my verse it is not out of a hope that taking recourse to suchlike seeming affectations by themselves would lift my muse to sublime heights of the past; but, conversely, I poetise them mainly for reasons of effectual rhyming and in recognition of the fact that these discarded words had kept company with the best in literature. Furthermore, I feel secure in the knowledge that Spencer and Chaucer amongst many other of their ilk infused their inimitable writings with usage of archaic words; and therefore, I feel, by using any such words I am by no means committing any grave transgression which contemporary writing may find it difficult to digest. Having said that, I hope you'd excuse me the annoyance the archaic lot may cause you if and when you do encounter them in my verse. I may add, while all poetry is abstract to great extent but its abstraction should relate to reality in order to make sense. I need also mention that a poet’s “I” is universal and rarely a personal one, and that a poet only articulates the varied influences acting on his senses and sensibilities, inducing thereby a reaction which only reflects the reality as he sees or perceives it, bringing to view the good as well as the ugly. It’s not for him, like the mirror, to shut out degraded images and show only what pleases the fancy or regarded desirable. Finally, poetry without rhyme, reason, rhythm and music sounds hollow like the blast of a musical wind instrument sans pipes, keys and notes. However, that is not to say that blank verse and contemporary writing is creatively deficient and lacks music, rhythm and meaningful content. All said and done, this belief can easily be dismissed as merely a matter of one's opinion - which it is, no doubt. In final analysis - each to his chosen preferences and creative urges. Good Luck! And keep the muse in you going, even if it seems to tread a solitary path occasionally. )

The Best Poem Of dukesekhon sekhon

To - Dream

O cease! thy varied mumble, O Dream;

Though sweet is the droan as bumblebee's,

No longer can it sustain the waning Heart!

O rise! And shed off thy dusky mask,

And don on justly the dawn's garb!

What seest thou? --

Dark reality it would seem

Mirrored in truth's stark beam!

Thy brood of lies, asleep in noon's warm glow,

On awakening would weep to know

The truths which only day can show!

O why delude my being,

When eyes well seeing seest not thee;

Though sleep swears thou art

What awakening perceives not!

O thy whimsy plumes of fantasy cast away;

Fear not to walk at last the golden ray.

And let thy footfalls reconcile

To a newer measure of sweet toil.



Was that you, , O Dream,

Who to the reality woke me?

Aah, woe is me!

What would our lives be

If thou were not thee!

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