Quixote Poems

If you knew

If you knew...
That the one who tore you in two, and
Made you
One with the earth,
And
The one who glues you,
Unites you, petal by petal,
Contributes to your happiness...

If you knew...?
Would you shed another tear?

Latter-Day Don Quixote

When and how
did we see chivalry last
or is it now
a thing of the past
and honour among thieves
is no honour at all
while beating my brains
against the wall
besting the dragons
at City Hall
am I wrong in thinking
it's my fight
or am I errant
as a roving knight
exhibiting gallantry
within a crowd
of apathy
indifferent 
to the powers that be
outnumbered and outgunned
Sancho when needed

Freedom Fighter

Jailed for the will to be jailed 
Kids shouldn’t play with fire
But they do, and of course they fail
In full conscious of mad desire
What now, will you write a sequel
To Servantes’s Don Quixote
Lots of tyres around every mill
A borsch with pampushka you’ve got 
There’ll be Ursula of Brussels
The lady you wish to know better
There’ll be

Don Q

"I’m looking for my sparring partner.
So please direct me, if you will."
“You seek a knight, a wicked wizard?”
“A mill."

To the Don Quixote Down the Block

You sit alone in a room
as a knight without armor
while outside your window
leaves like maidens dance,

yet there’s no one left to save.

You know someone
is watching as you read
a romance five times read
that has become your world,
and you wait
for someone to come.

The people who walk
down the sidewalk,
you say they’re all
beautiful,
everyone.

Veiled in memories
visions of a waitress glows,
the

The Last Cowboy

A nightmare
 after something I'd had, 
a cowboy film,
 the late-night news
 and Cervantes at bedtime.

On a spavined jade
the last of all the cowboys
with lean shanks
astride gaunt flanks
rides down
to Death Valley.

The last of all the cowboys
has soon put paid
to enemy tanks
along Stygian banks
way down
Death Valley.

Ever onward they wade.
to the cowboy's last tune,
some joining the ranks,
some

Thank You Don Quixote

There you are! 

I thought you gone
      the way of the record player.

Toilet lid tied to your hand,
a light saber held up high,
tilting at metal windmills
on a Kansas prairie.

Nature Ho Ho Ho Don Quixote Lance

With a,
Heigh Ho,
Heigh Ho,
Heigh Ho

In defense of nature we go

Like Night's on Crusade

But i fear we will need

More than seven dwarfs

Unless they are standing on the shoulder of giants

And holding Don Quixote lance

Because we are up against

Our mortal enemy

Hephaestus

Quixote In My Mind

Fighting demons
Bursting bubbles
He's in my head
Among the rubbles
Seeing that most things get done
He works at it from moon till sun
He tilts at windmills only he can see
Please meet.... Don Quixote

My affliction
or my soul
hearing voices
takes its toll
Fighting what may not be there
And if it's not, why should I care?
Before the windmills in my mind
Don Quixote....you will

How I Resemble Don Quixote

Outwardly, I bear
but slight resemblance.
But, oh!
On the inside,
We are virtual twins!

Don Quixote Visits America

Start

I’m sure you’ve heard his name before
From stories of knights in days of yore
Born in village La Mancha in Spain
Was enthralled of knights, he chose to feign

After resurrection, to America he came
In search of adventures and fame
As legend goes, every knight must have a lady- love
To bestow his “victories” to her as it behoove

He chose

The Last Day of Don Quixote

since there is a saying 
“noble man walks on the thoroughfare”
Don Quixote abandoned the shortcut-side-road,
steering Rosinante, dashing into the highway 

while he was riding on the highway
something suddenly came into his mind 
a proverb “the middle way is the golden mean”  
he reined the horse into the middle lane looking at the horizon 
where

Don Quixote Golf East

On one night, 
is it because of a bewitched full moon?
while driving my rusty shaking junk car
I became Don Quixote de la Mancha 
mounted on Rozinante holding a lance under the arm aslant,
and with a full gallop, dashing into the battle field, through the street where 
the full moon was hanging thirty degree above the

Don Quixote Goes Stepping On the Fallen Leaves

Don Quixote goes down the path in the wilderness groping the way 
stepping on the dead leaves carrying the weight of the sitting sun
that is too much for him to carry on his crooked back.

Although he once mounted a horseback high with stately air
holding a spear under his arm, spurring a horse on to gallop

A Don Quixote and a Sancho Panza

Tough time – the economic crisis for a short period
Sometimes for the five members there’ll be a few bread.

Mother would declare she'd already her share of bread
“I was soo……. hungry, I had mine” she would add.


Dad, sacrificing his life
For my higher education.
Worked in a rustic village
And living in seclusion.

      

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