NEW AND SELECTED POEMS TANKA AND HAIKU
--Ram Krishna Singh
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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS The poet and the publisher are grateful to the editors of the following journals, zines and anthologies that carried some of the poems presented here: Sarasvati (Leicestershire, UK), The World Poets Quarterly (Chongqing City, P.R.China), KĹ? (Nagoya, Japan), The Tanka Journal (Tokyo, Japan), Chairman Poetics (Taiwan, ROC), Magnapoets (Ontario, Canada), Create4U (The Netherlands), Moonset Literary Newspaper (Oregon, USA), Time Haiku (London), Atlanta Chinese News (USA), Paper Wasp (Queensland, Australia), Modern English Tanka (Maryland, USA), Kelaino (Athens, Greece), Mainichi Daily News (Tokyo), Poet (Belgrade), Ambrosia: Journal of Fine Haiku (Maryland, USA), Poet (Chennai), Poetry World (Chennai), Cyber Literature (Patna), Research (Patna), Indian Book Chronicle (Jaipur), Indian Journal of Postcolonial Literature (Thodupuzha, Kerala), Triveni (Hyderabad), Bridge-in-Making (Kolkata), The Journal of Indian Writing I English (Gulbarga), Indian Journal of English Studies, and e-journals, Lynx, Asahi Haiku Network, Simply Haiku, Asia Writes, Syndic Literary Journal, New Mirage Journal, EPN, Mann Library’s Daily Haiku, Akita International Haiku Network, Shamrock Haiku Journal, Haiku Reality, and World Haiku Review. Some poems have also appeared in the following anthologies/collections: Busy Bee Book of Contemporary Indian English Poetry (eds: P. Raja and Rita Nath Keshari). Pondicherry: Busy Bee Books, 2007. Contemporary Poets (ed: M.S. Venkata Ramaiah). Bangalore: Biz Buzz, 2009. A Dictionary of Contemporary International Poets (eds: Choi Lai Sheung and Zhang Zhi). Chongqing City: The Earth Culture Press, 2010. Sense and Silence: Collected Poems (R.K. Singh). Jaipur: Yking Books, 2010. 2
Sexless Solitude and Other Poems (R.K.Singh). Bareilly: Prakash Book Depot, 2009. The River Returns (R.K. Singh). Bareilly: Prakash Book Depot, 2006.
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PREFACE
Life is too real to be believed, yet we must keep dreaming and try to live with a resonance of what we think while we touch various levels of reality—political, social, personal, or spiritual—and be ourselves. Genuine poetry happens as an event to be truthful, clear, courageous, and honest to oneself; to be open about things one often tries to conceal. Poetry provides an opportunity for expressing ones intimate moments with the same passion as while talking about the interwoven outer realities. I also view it as the expression of cosmic, organic, erotic life, creating its own forms, expressing itself and, in being expressed, finds its voice. My experience convinces me that we are not limited by what we are, but we are limited by what we are not. Poetry becomes a means to overcome this limitation, and thus, allows us not only to know ourselves but also to expand on what we are. This means we should remain open to healthy revisions that we can make to our way of thinking, and incorporate new perspectives into our outlook. In other words, we should not let our own rigidity destroy our potential, but rather we should evince a forward-looking, tolerant, and open mindset if we wish to create future. I don’t know if my poetry fits in what I think at the moment but poetry does help us traverse the boundaries of hesitation to see the joy of fulfillment. I am grateful to Mr Sudarshan Kcherry for readily agreeing to publish this collection and support my creativity. --R.K. Singh
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Contents 1. Death 2. Labyrinths 3. Mistake 4. Smoke 5. Fisherman’s Song 6. Threat 7. Midnight Cry 8. Games of Convenience 9. Unheard Silences 10. Revelations 11. Poetry Unsafe 12. Dust Smells 13.One Day I’ll Sleep Well 14.I Carry the Tomb 15.Temple 16.War 17.Saints’ Blasphemy 18.Rituals 19.There’s No Music 20.Time is Running Out 21.Necklace 5
22.Vision 23.His Smile is Fake 24.Trekking 25.When She Smiles Her Sex 26.Hunger 27.Delusion 28.Pollution 29.Creativity 30.Liberation 31.Kamakhya 32.Debris 33.Tombstone 34.There’s No Grace 35.Meditation 36.Karmic Credit 37.Bones Breathe 38.A Long Game 39.Tunnel 40.Rainbow 41.Solitude 42.Rotten Rat 43.Too Painful 6
44.Pain 45.Valley of Self 46.Snake 47.Wisdom 48.Helplessness 49.Elements Clack 50.It’s More Voluptuous to Float 51.Eyeless Jagannath 52.Decay with Divinity 53.Night’s Silence
SOME SHORTER POEMS Tanka
67-90
Haiku
91-121
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1
DEATH We do not know who cares for us live or dead nor do we know our end now or ever which meeting with whom is the last we do not know when darkness gushes in from the breach sky sinks down as stranger we come as stranger we pass like withered grass uncelebrated unmourned, unknown
2 8
LABYRINTHS With sudden twists and turns popping up each new day life still awaits intrigues through meandering pathways I search the golden light the rising Capricorn held for a Sunday child the labyrinths are dark and scary but I know the way in is the way out I can’t trip along the way like others in blind alleys the guarding angel leads me to golden reward
9
3 MISTAKE Don’t defile my goddess you smell private parts with sexy hibiscus don’t crack the centre take bath first and touch Kali with clean mind I can’t let your wandering hands make mistake
4
10
SMOKE I can’t enter the sky high mind of a crow or eagle
but I know how it feels in cold-wet air I have lived breathless winter in the open and no star woke up to clean the smoke I slowly became
5 11
FISHERMAN’ S SONG Walking along the beach they collect empty shells that fascinate senses in the salty air feel the life now no more but argue about the sex of a conch ignoring the fisherman’s song
6 12
THREAT We chase myths in self-made Amazon fish turtles that change colour in new waters we create landscape of nightmares and wade through anacondas that threaten our confidence lost in the jungles of our own making we beat about thorny grasses now look for the twin flames for convenience cloud judgment and reality for control challenge the Republic and divide the defence that could never be
7 13
MIDNIGHT CRY No use abusing or cursing anyone when restless and breathless I cry to god to help me for a while let me sleep sexless meditate in the darkest of hours negotiate peace with self and rest even if I exist in my sufferings
8
14
GAMES OF CONVENIENCE Before the ant-eaten roots yield to storm and the roof cracks I must find a new shelter to escape the full collapse: the faรงade of specious house and dead wood midst dust and green have popped up myths of ages academics recycle holding gods in the hand in cozy illusions perpetuate newer games of convenience
9
15
UNHEARD SILENCES The hosts of the earth dismay me and my mind stays in the gutter she says I poison her nights with chosen expletives and keep her awake: she doesn’t believe I live my cries in unheard silences
10 16
REVELATIONS Widening cracks, leaking roofs choked drains in the courtyard water logging and myriad such small things make rains a pain there’s no romance in rainbow I can’t shape colours of morning morning shapes my colour: I’m the victim of my views that shape my head each day realities and yoga conspire drinks and pills deride from clothesline flowers and trees speak in grey compost of years oozes no wisdom whatever the poetry, it stinks idols on the beasts and cattle overload the carriage I can’t deliver the burden prostrate and worship touch the feet, foolishness makes me small, frustrate sitting on the ground in the dust, degrade it’s long fog, with blurred sight 17
virtually blind, no seer no revelations
11 18
POETRY UNSAFE She doesn’t like to see me take bath in the sun or cross the doors naked the body frightens her even in the dark as if buried in dust the whole year passes with her turning on me like rheumatic twinge emptiness haunts with mind in the gutter poetry unsafe
19
12 DUST SMELLS Searching mother in the thickening dark: the tree stands through the twilight hear the bridge I cross with creaking bones wheeze December in lonely drizzles: sun’s last glow measure wisdom to unknow, now lower gaze and look within the heart’s rhythm: dust smells beneath the feet above the head
20
13 ONE DAY I’LL SLEEP WELL God not helplessness alone but man’s mortality too the guardian angel keeps alive hope against locked doors one day I’ll sleep well and get up refreshed with no black halo screams of fear or pain in myself I’d end or go as rain in sand leaving no trace and no place to return too
14
21
I CARRY THE TOMB While volcanoes rehearse to show their teeth lovers shouting from the well of the house wave broken condoms rather than broken trust conflate dissent on self-erasing slates and prove worse than the old oxen long following circuitous ways billowing opposition, discalced defenders they all assert superior dishonesty sell cheap what is most dear or make offences of new affections I carry the tomb of unburied days
15
22
TEMPLE Some scattered petals incense smoke and a couple of paper deities in a lonely corner enough to create a sense of temple to pray for a moment and be at peace with oneself
23
16 WAR The flood failed to cross the banks yet I drenched tied up to the prison that didn’t exist I checkmated now waver like shadow without drinking a drop feel drunk and cry like a soldier without fighting the war: see night inside
17
24
SAINTS’ BLASPHEMY I’ve lived so many deaths now I fear living there’s so much ruin inside and around no tattoos on breasts hide the rusty cauldrons none hear the raging fire voices multiply the darkness of earth seems beyond verbal face sun is stopped in temples stones explode in hands it’s vain to dream a new picture of the world the viewless shapes of gods eternal twilight it’s no use flying so high the sky seems shattered
the city is haloed 25
in saints’ blasphemy
18 26
RITUALS Hiding helplessness in the luxury of prayers he raises a wall a babel of deception through cocktail of drug and desire meanders through dreammiracles and wakes up to unheard alarm each morning repeats rituals ageing time is ashamed of
27
19 THERE’S NO MUSIC Walking in the once familiar street this evening I feel foreign the dust seems known but people are unknown; missing the urgency of the past the traffic goes on there’s no marriage for me I’m lost in the procession. They all have matches who cares my daughter is married or not. I am here just for the ritual of relationship suffering yet another stasis there’s no miracle in the flash of darkness nor any music in whatever vibrates
28
20 TIME IS RUNNING OUT I need a few hours without god, thought, or self and just be free restlessness of night now frightens the morning sun I can’t even breathe I can’t lie like uprooted pole on the roadside rubbished by all no prayer helps trust shrinks life without love time’s running out
21
29
NECKLACE Hidden in the cave of the heart little fire unextinguished by thought, hunger, desire constantly watches the body, mind, self the world without the necklace that shines and enchains: I’m no Nachiketa the spirit burns
30
22 VISION The mind’s eye too grows cataract-vision and needs surgery some new lens to see through self-doubt that blurs the sight there’s no mantra to help penetrate without erection
23
31
HIS SMILE IS FAKE Each time he goes out to walk the dog he becomes dog but barks like man no one trusts him his smile is fake I’m used to his ways: he stretches his legs and moves away counting the holes stars leave each night today I tiptoed up to the kennel he was on his knees peeking into his own clasped hands
24 32
TREKKING Is it my senility or effect of the pills that in half-sleep I hear someone say I should massage her legs as she’s returned from a long trekking
25
33
WHEN SHE SMILES HER SEX While they sexed together after midnight I sexed with myself in teens lived the neural itch drying between the sheets now years later in aloneness it rises like ghost when she smiles her sex my fingers don’t even stick
26
34
HUNGER Seated by fireside a crying child wards off flies on her tear-stained face: both hungry in a rich house the master picks stars in her hair who cares how this sullen place turns golden with mask over a poor woman’s face: the bull performs the act and flees hiding blackness in the dawn and distorted relics
27
35
DELUSION I won’t know my chakras when I’m drunk even if I do yoga nidra and fool myself consuming a peg or two read dissertation on stylistics and comment on what is not done it’s still the ego that dominates and I think I’m great fool
28 36
POLLUTION Who sees the smoke of the thumb-sized flame the body burns the ashes of silence float on the holy breast tears pollute
29
37
CREATIVITY The wind couldn’t convey my message it was Shelley’s the daffodils too couldn’t make sense though these looked good I failed to change any thing with Wastelandish view only wasted words missing native sense in bed and body field and farm river and hill gods and goddesses couldn’t be myths nor philosophies make mind fresh Zen proved dubious with Basho Issa, Tagore, Aurobindo and so many mimicking the past I couldn’t be I in six decades with childish cries I killed my self in pieces and buried in smoke my poetry too
38
30 LIBERATION Away from home in academics sex, philosophy and religion I’ve been sceptic about all these years revels of hell in lost memories couldn’t be a new dialect for spring turn nude with refreshing orgasm I still wander in my mind with fire but no heat or light, sterile emotion routs the spirit to live making all presences dark and absence fears are no bread from heaven nor unfilled emptiness any sky yet the eagle flies with wide eyes nose opened to stinking patches the mud- and ghostscapes that yield mandate for dreams wrapped in nightmares: I live preying for liberation and decay with divinity
39
31 KAMAKHYA Nothing turns me on in aloneness self-rape is no eros: the blue hill hides the seed in the sex of goddess I can’t awaken nor can I rise from the ash to be my real self I am still lost in meanness no third eye could locate
32 40
DEBRIS It’s near but every place has a distance and people too they flee to see me in their vicinity sense a danger I don’t belong: they curse me for what I’m not self-made misery traps them to hell I can’t help their doom nor stop their wanton rage down to smallness they hate only themselves and sculpt new sorrows I must erase the debris of dreams they leave and be at peace
41
33 TOMBSTONE They pour sand in my hair and fill my shoes with stones to make me heavy like many I too grab the grass and try to float but my fingers slip they refuse my pleas for a rope or staff to help me drift in currents they wish me to become with facial epitaph my own tombstone
34
42
THERE’S NO GRACE Dusk is doomed when I shovel light in darkness fail to live the intensity of prayer moistened eyes draw me near divine for a while soul is light and flowers and wings furl in moon but soon pain overwhelms my space and tears swell fingers feel decaying fireflies in lamplight voice turns blue I scare my vision there’s no grace
43
35 MEDITATION I wish my room too had a window opening to the sun and moon and not to the windows that remain always closed
perhaps with people meditating their ego in dark light and air switched on or off against the resounding echoes
36
44
KARMIC CREDIT The cracks, cobwebs, dusts and spots in the house reveal how neglected I have been. The roof and base tell of the wild growth, the expanding peepals snakes, scorpions, lizards have free time round the year it’s the deserted look an extension of my existence without repair or maintenance for decades their apathy disturbs sleep I suffer scars and sparks, burn my skin measure my shadow at different hours yet I couldn’t become the skeleton I watch the earthworms on the corpses that swell stomach of headless mummies or lie dormant to kill the spirit the elements, ochre moon, sun, tongues— the Buddha’s fan fails to renew faith I can’t redeem my karmic credit
45
37 BONES BREATHE Bedside phone a chocolate box and condoms rising thrill smell makes body swirl as bones breathe
46
38 A LONG GAME I can’t change body can’t belittle nature prophets of doom can’t cross rainbow bridge nor go to underworld to reach heaven: water and mountains I can’t negotiate with my burdens burial no end living is a long game that goes beyond death
47
39 TUNNEL Evening’s slow pace against lifeless trees is within me a whole grows against dull sea stars fall mute dark fingers harpoon my name through tunnel night chimes shallow
48
40 RAINBOW They colour their hair paint the face to look younger and speak aged lies to match rainbow life but stare into the sky to find which colour follows which before melding into one they wonder what to do with beige and indigo shades that stick their vision
41 49
SOLITUDE I don’t seek the stone bowl Buddha used while here: she dwells on moon beams I can see her smiling with wind-chiselled breast in sexless solitude her light is not priced but gifted to enlighten the silver-linings
42 50
ROTTEN RAT Man is an animal with a peculiar smell says Bertolt Brecht: he smells a rotten rat as he waves his khaddar arms with fake smile
51
43
TOO PAINFUL Blind with their own sight don’t see the wonders round them but kneel and ask why only me too painful to see
44 52
PAIN With taste of bitter coffee still lingering in my mouth I gaze through the window drawing in the harsh smell of water beating on the crowded green I remember how dreamily I floated over her body in the rains like this but she won’t care now the storm numbs and nothing lives save the clouds that drift and squeeze pimples on the scrotum
45 53
VALLEY OF SELF I don’t know which psalms to sing or which church to go to feel the flame within for a while sit or lie still with faith weather the restlessness brewing breath by breath I don’t know the god or goddess or the mantra to chant when fear overtakes my being and makes me suffer plateaus of nightmares paralysing spirit to live and be the promised fulfilment I see no saviour come to rescue me when mired I seek freedom from myself: my ordeals are mine alone in the valley of self I must learn to clear the clouds soaring high or low
54
46 SNAKE Hiding or waiting it raises its head when least expected, snake glitters in the eyes: looks for the moment to slip and reveal the fangs
55
47 WISDOM I always dreamt the world as one and thought I belonged but none let me live my simple soul at home with differences they kicked me into exile for their prejudices forced me seek my nest in myself I share the wisdom of peace and life in tune with nature
56
48 HELPLESSNESS I have no magical power to change my restlessness into glory radiating peace or purpose in living: they give me no room to better men or myself but condemn as one hanged for nothing: poets are no living lessons I stand aside ruminating what I couldn’t do or be or await miracles through circles and zigzags of the mind even corrupt faith and curse destiny for the maze of my own making and yet say I know the spirit’s upward fire
57
49 ELEMENTS CLACK I don’t know how the bones grow in the womb still in darkness elements clack in the small house shudder the harp and strings the heartbeats pronounce the balance of nature against heat wind rain look for body’s love— the mystery song echoes some truths not spoken
58
50 IT’S MORE VOLUPTUOUS TO FLOAT We cover our hells with roses and fear foreigners digging deep into our glorious projections the stinky growth from diseased weeds no gene therapy can erase: we reflect the chaos as gold trying to shed the crust of small selves invite death for a change and lick the narrow lake between the thighs it’s more voluptuous to float in the sky and come out transformed with Kali’s blood-dripping light and grace and recast the seeds of destiny in undying flowery perfume without fear of quake or collapse
51 EYELESS JAGANNATH
59
I can’t understand their mystic heaven or thrills housed in awareness time’s intricacies or sources of plastic mist through mythical depths the wings of my thought are too short to climb God’s height or blue deeps of peace I stand on the edge of earth’s physicality waiting on the brink with shadowy lines and curves to image march of eyeless Jagannath if nobody sees the collapse of procession and the dark precinct don’t blame the poets: there is too much emptiness and gloom to ignore
52
60
DECAY WITH DIVINITY Away from home in academia sex, philosophy and religion I’ve been skeptic about all these years revels of hell in lost memories couldn’t be a new dialect for spring turn nude with refreshing orgasm I still wander in my mind with fire but no heat or light, sterile emotion routs the spirit to live making all presences dark and absence fears are no bread from heaven nor unfilled emptiness any sky yet the eagle flies with wide eyes nose opened to stinking patches the mud- and ghostscapes that yield mandate for dreams wrapped in nightmares: I live preying for liberation and decay with divinity
53
61
NIGHT’S SILENCE Unmoved in the wind the rose still stands erect in the night’s silence I imagine my teens the street is lonely and love-ache ever fresh with stolen fragrance now halting rhythm of sex
62
SOME SHORTER POEMS
TANKA :
1 The hotel’s backyard littered with empty bottles paper plates, condoms and damp smell like the washroom’s puts me off, deletes all colours
2 From its cozy nest between the fallen logs smells my arrival a hedgehog in backyard— cataract vision
63
3 Overcautious my wife after midnight pushes me away forgetting the ever alive ever present, NOW
4 The drying trees give my age: 64
autumn warmth of new day hot tea and singing birds
5 Trying all sides and every position to sleep a few hours but pain in the neck conspires with long winter nights
6 On the prayer mat the hands raised in vajrasan couldn’t contact God— the prayer was too long and the winter night still longer 65
7 Muttering prayers in the silence of exam hall a new comer with seized wit: teachers delight
8 Doodling at the cement bench in the park a mother and child, perhaps waiting for the day’s end
66
9 She says she is a pure vegetarian and hates to take even an egg ‘coz it comes from the chicken’s vagina
10 Too difficult to negotiate demands of my libido and her interests these days— whom to ask to mediate?
67
11 Hearing him talk dung she doubts his integrity and curses him for emitting lava from mouth: I regret stomach upset
12 I can’t know her from the body, skin, or curve: the perfume cheats like the sacred hymns chanted in hope, and there’s no answer
68
13 Decomposing in the PC’s memory a frozen image they try to trace logging in the lady of charity
14 With henna hue the ascetic’s matted hair and net of words fish innocent women at the holy Ganges
69
15 She stoops low to the bottom shelf in black jeans her curves flattering and red lace groping her hips
16 On getting up it couldn’t be the dream jasmine: knelt between his thighs in dance their aerobic stunts— couldn’t savour moment’s applause
70
17 A tress of hair she drops over the mole on her forehead thinking it’s ugly and hides her own gazelle eyes
18 Her look unspoken flirting or artful riff on snaring my soul for playful exchange
71
19 The beads of sweat on her breasts do not touch her years or face in candle light her shadow is more restrained than my thought
20 No cakes or cookies to celebrate my birthday this New year eve lunar eclipse and blue moon cheer the cup in foggy chill
72
21 The sea smells from far off leaps to the sky I drive through the maze of returning folks with fresh catch on their heads
22 On the roof top she waits for her man with moon cake and lantern: a flash of silver showers on the mist-shrouded figure
73
23 Transparent in a one-piece dress she tiptoes waving from the window not seeing him leave
24 A black dog moves freely among reporters lying on the ground to shoot militants in Taj resisting the commandos 74
25 Plodding away at season’s conspiracies life has proved untrue with God an empty word and prayers helpless cries
26 It’s not ageing but eternal delight: you under me smooth belly nude necking slow stroking parting flesh
75
27 The thought is sin she thinks and denies me sex to protest against my mind in the gutter that breeds erotic in verse
28 Watching the moon in the western horizon two haiku poets scratch each other’s back and mock the rest as neophytes
76
29 Resting his chin on the back of his palms he stands at the dusted railing to watch the planes roar and take off
30 Unable to see beyond the nose he says he meditates and sees visions of Buddha weeping for us
77
31 A mist covers the valley of her body leaves memories like the shiver of cherry in dreamy January
32 The cocktail of drink drug and meditation— nightly yelps tease unshared guilt the hell of silence
78
33 Short nights and long days sleep loss rustles a friction echoing in bed the cycle of cravings over and over again
34 Unknowable the soul’s pursuits hidden by its own works: the spirit’s thirst, the strife the restless silence, too much
79
35 Her letter smells the lotus she wore each time meeting in the dark: I touch her fingers again with all the hopes and passion
36 Awaiting the wave that’ll wash away empty hours and endless longing in this dead silence at sea I pull down chunks of sky
80
37 Watching the waves with him she makes an angle in contemplation: green weed and white foam break on the beach with falling mood
38 The sun on a mountain grave illumines the path to divinity unrealized in soul
81
39 I can’t cement cracks nor save the frames from collapse: the wreck reveals the myth I need not knit new dreams if truth’s so cold and stingy
40
The lips in her eyes and long hours in the mouth no moist secret between us to reveal: now our backs to each other
82
HAIKU
83
hanging door protector— Buddha
wiping his face under the umbrella an old man with books
frightened of my muddy feet god in temple
84
a quick brush with snake in the fence: plucking flowers
painting the glow in the green of forest unseen fingers
magical horses and nude deities of Hussain— empty canvas
85
bedside altar smell of her hair: dreams light up
dangling her necklace below the drooping breasts— milky stream
tangle together flames of a double lamp on the terrace
86
after the storm picking fallen tamarind— too high the tree
3-year old asking name of changing shapes in the sky
my bedroom dust-covered crucifix— still time
87
crushed bedsheet the same as months ago
lust in mirror models in lingerie: winter rain
a stray dog sleeping under a car— wintry dawn
hear in the slow light-footed arrival of sun 88
sound of silence
shadows waver in the dewy grass— butterfly
carrying the tomb of unburied days: New Year
89
musky perfume open unsleeping eyes— drowsy sweetness
time to talk to the inner child— baby sitting
leaves fall wearing more layers— flu season
returning home 90
to the swaying of branches— spring’s first rain
an aged toad awaiting sunrise— damp grass
rising godward prayers on the waving incense stick smoke
seeing eye of the vacuum— ocean waves
91
sunrise behind the temple cloud’s edge
a round moon rises early this evening— pale creeper
seeking shelter a leaf falls into 92
the puddle
inviting sandal attar from the wrist— summer evening
her gaze stirs the soul— clay in void
reads his eyes in the mirror— emptiness
93
padmasan at sea front hearing empty waves
clings to the body her wet red saree— waving wrinkles
perfume of wine remembering the bouquet she gave me once
94
lonely sunrise— birds flying away in search of worms in ash
winter rain bends the roses low— lumbar pain
flower beds purple pulsatilla winter’s end 95
caressing her pregnant belly— water lily
waxing crescent searches the setting sun worshipped in water
96
a thin moon on her neck hides love in silk gauze
on the beach she combs her long hair: aphrodite
parents pelt stones at the mating street dogs— nosey children
a pregnant clown 97
on the squalid mattress— crying inside
feeding spirits with limbs of uncircumcised boys a Ugandan witch
pulled from the rubble a newborn’s limbs with dead mom— earthquake in Haiti
measures loneliness sip by sip at dining table 98
the mirror is so small I can’t see the ocean beyond my own look
making holes in the wooden cross white ant
99
filling emptiness of the room with ikebana
pausing between bites on the guava tree the parrots
still fresh in the hanky’s fold-jasmine
after the party empty chairs on the lawn now moon and I 100
the lone mushroom-a pregnant woman stares out the window
a load of wood on her frail back-autumn evening
chrysanthemum on a mossy roof deeply rooted
101
vultures waiting for the remains of sacrifice on the temple tree
night bombing oleander garden white as death
sunrise behind the temple cloud’s edge
102
sea waves roll from faraway white peaks
after the sunset wheels of a returning cart along the paddy
love tickles with erect pistil: hibiscus
wet bodies of bathing women: full moon night 103
her body the night’s perfection in dim light
a cloud-eagle curves to the edge in the west
her lonely grief melts in the candle wax evening's dark floor 104
the perfume from her armpits -yoga
lovemaking he melts into her time stands still
candling in vein leaves marks of teeth on her neck utters holiness
105
writes with strands of watery hair on her bare back a love haiku
after the tumble buried between the sheets leftover passion
106
locked between my bed and quilt December chill
bedside— our night clothes await washing
______________________________________________________ Copyright: Professor R.K.Singh, Dept of Humanities & Social Sciences, Indian School of Mines DHANBAD 826004 (India). 107