NEW AND SELECTED POEMS

TANKA AND HAIKU

--Ram Krishna Singh

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.C hina), K (Nagoya, Japan), The Tanka Journal (Tokyo, Japan), Chairman Poetics (Tai wan, ROC), Magnapoets (Ontario, Canada), Create4U (The Netherlands), Moons et 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), Ambr osia: Journal of Fine Haiku (Maryland, USA), Poet (Chennai), Poetry World (Che nnai), Cyber Literature (Patna), Research (Patna), Indian Book Chronicle (Jaip ur), Indian Journal of Postcolonial Literature (Thodupuzha, Kerala), Triveni ( Hyderabad), Bridge-in-Making (Kolkata), The Journal of Indian Writing I Englis h (Gulbarga), Indian Journal of English Studies, and e-journals, Lynx, Asahi Haiku Network, Simply Haiku, Asia Writes, Syndic Literary Journal, New Mirage Jo urnal, EPN, Mann Librarys Daily Haiku, Akita International Haiku Network, Shamroc k 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. Sexless Solitude and Other Poems (R.K.Singh). Bareilly: Prakash Book Depot, 2009 . The River Returns (R.K. Singh). Bareilly: Prakash Book Depot, 2006.

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 realitypolitical, s ocial, personal, or spiritualand be ourselves. Genuine poetry happens as an event to be truthful, clear, courageous, and hone st to oneself; to be open about things one often tries to conceal. Poetry provid es 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 o wn 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 li mited by what we are not. Poetry becomes a means to overcome this limitation, a nd 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 wa y of thinking, and incorporate new perspectives into our outlook. In other word s, we should not let our own rigidity destroy our potential, but rather we shou ld evince a forward-looking, tolerant, and open mindset if we wish to create fut ure. I dont 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 coll ection and support my creativity. --R.K. Singh Contents 1. Death 2. Labyrinths 3. Mistake 4. Smoke 5. Fishermans Song 6. Threat 7. Midnight Cry 8. Games of Convenience 9. Unheard Silences 10. Revelations 11. Poetry Unsafe 12. Dust Smells 13. One Day Ill Sleep Well 14. I Carry the Tomb 15. Temple 16. War

17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33. 34. 35. 36. 37. 38. 39. 40. 41. 42. 43. 44. 45. 46. 47. 48. 49. 50. 51. 52. 53.

Saints Blasphemy Rituals Theres No Music Time is Running Out Necklace Vision His Smile is Fake Trekking When She Smiles Her Sex Hunger Delusion Pollution Creativity Liberation Kamakhya Debris Tombstone Theres No Grace Meditation Karmic Credit Bones Breathe A Long Game Tunnel Rainbow Solitude Rotten Rat Too Painful Pain Valley of Self Snake Wisdom Helplessness Elements Clack Its More Voluptuous to Float Eyeless Jagannath Decay with Divinity Nights Silence 67-90 91-121

SOME SHORTER POEMS Tanka Haiku

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 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 cant trip along the way like others in blind alleys the guarding angel leads me to golden reward

3 MISTAKE Dont defile my goddess you smell private parts

with sexy hibiscus dont crack the centre take bath first and touch Kali with clean mind I cant let your wandering hands make mistake

4 SMOKE I cant 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 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 fishermans song

6 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

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 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 faade 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 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 doesnt believe I live my cries in unheard silences

10 REVELATIONS Widening cracks, leaking roofs choked drains in the courtyard water logging and myriad such small things make rains a pain theres no romance in rainbow I cant shape colours of morning morning shapes my colour: Im 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 cant deliver the burden

prostrate and worship touch the feet, foolishness makes me small, frustrate sitting on the ground in the dust, degrade its long fog, with blurred sight virtually blind, no seer no revelations

11 POETRY UNSAFE She doesnt 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

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: suns last glow measure wisdom to unknow, now lower gaze and look within the hearts rhythm: dust smells beneath the feet above the head

13 ONE DAY ILL SLEEP WELL God not helplessness alone but mans mortality too the guardian angel keeps alive hope against locked doors one day Ill sleep well and get up refreshed

with no black halo screams of fear or pain in myself Id end or go as rain in sand leaving no trace and no place to return too

14 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 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

16 WAR The flood failed to cross the banks yet I drenched tied up to the prison that didnt 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 SAINTS BLASPHEMY Ive lived so many deaths now I fear living theres 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 its vain to dream a new picture of the world the viewless shapes of gods eternal twilight its no use flying so high the sky seems shattered

the city is haloed in saints blasphemy

18 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

19 THERES 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 theres no marriage for me Im 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 theres no miracle in the flash of darkness nor any music in whatever vibrates

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 cant even breathe I cant lie like uprooted pole on the roadside rubbished by all no prayer helps trust shrinks life without love times running out

21 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: Im no Nachiketa the spirit burns

22 VISION The minds eye too grows cataract-vision and needs surgery some new lens to see through self-doubt that blurs the sight theres no mantra to help penetrate without erection

23 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 Im 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 TREKKING Is it my senility or effect of the pills that in half-sleep I hear someone say I should massage her legs as shes returned from a long trekking

25 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 dont even stick

26 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 womans face: the bull performs the act and flees hiding blackness in the dawn and distorted relics

27 DELUSION I wont know my chakras when Im 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 its still the ego that dominates and I think Im great fool

28 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 CREATIVITY The wind couldnt convey my message it was Shelleys the daffodils too couldnt 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 couldnt be myths nor philosophies make mind fresh Zen proved dubious with Basho Issa, Tagore, Aurobindo and so many mimicking the past I couldnt be I in six decades with childish cries I killed my self in pieces and buried in smoke my poetry too

30 LIBERATION Away from home in academics sex, philosophy and religion Ive been sceptic about all these years revels of hell in lost memories couldnt 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

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 cant 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 DEBRIS Its near but every place has a distance and people too they flee to see me in their vicinity sense a danger I dont belong: they curse me for what Im not self-made misery traps them to hell I cant 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

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 THERES 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 theres no grace

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 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 its 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 couldnt 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 Buddhas fan fails to renew faith I cant redeem my karmic credit

37 BONES BREATHE Bedside phone a chocolate box and condoms rising thrill smell makes body swirl as bones breathe

38 A LONG GAME I cant change body cant belittle nature prophets of doom cant cross rainbow bridge nor go to underworld to reach heaven: water and mountains I cant negotiate with my burdens burial no end living is a long game that goes beyond death

39 TUNNEL Evenings 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

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 SOLITUDE I dont 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 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

43 TOO PAINFUL Blind with their own sight dont see the wonders round them but kneel and ask why only me too painful to see

44 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 wont care now the storm numbs and nothing lives save the clouds that drift and squeeze pimples on the scrotum

45 VALLEY OF SELF I dont 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 dont 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

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

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

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 couldnt 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 spirits upward fire

49 ELEMENTS CLACK I dont 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 bodys love the mystery song echoes some truths not spoken

50 ITS 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 its more voluptuous to float in the sky and come out transformed with Kalis blood-dripping light and grace and recast the seeds of destiny in undying flowery perfume without fear of quake or collapse

51 EYELESS JAGANNATH I cant understand their mystic heaven or thrills housed in awareness times intricacies or sources of plastic mist through mythical depths the wings of my thought are too short to climb Gods height or blue deeps of peace I stand on the edge of earths 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 dont blame the poets: there is too much emptiness and gloom to ignore

52 DECAY WITH DIVINITY Away from home in academia sex, philosophy and religion Ive been skeptic about all these years revels of hell in lost memories couldnt 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 NIGHTS SILENCE Unmoved in the wind the rose still stands erect in the nights silence I imagine my teens the street is lonely and love-ache ever fresh with stolen fragrance now halting rhythm of sex

SOME SHORTER POEMS TANKA :

1 The hotels backyard littered with empty bottles paper plates, condoms and damp smell like the washrooms puts me off, deletes all colours

2 From its cozy nest between the fallen logs smells my arrival a hedgehog in backyard cataract vision

3 Overcautious my wife after midnight pushes me away forgetting the ever alive ever present, NOW

4 The drying trees give my age: 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 couldnt contact God the prayer was too long and the winter night still longer

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 days end

9 She says she is a pure vegetarian and hates to take even an egg coz it comes from the chickens vagina

10 Too difficult to negotiate demands of my libido and her interests these days whom to ask to mediate?

11

Hearing him talk dung she doubts his integrity and curses him for emitting lava from mouth: I regret stomach upset

12 I cant know her from the body, skin, or curve: the perfume cheats like the sacred hymns chanted in hope, and theres no answer

13 Decomposing in the PCs memory a frozen image they try to trace logging in the lady of charity

14 With henna hue the ascetics matted hair and net of words fish innocent women at the holy Ganges

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 couldnt be the dream jasmine: knelt between his thighs in dance their aerobic stunts couldnt savour moments applause

17 A tress of hair she drops over the mole on her forehead thinking its ugly and hides her own gazelle eyes

18 Her look unspoken flirting or artful riff on snaring my soul for playful exchange

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

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

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

25 Plodding away at seasons conspiracies life has proved untrue with God an empty word and prayers helpless cries

26 Its not ageing but eternal delight:

you under me smooth belly nude necking slow stroking parting flesh

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 others back and mock the rest as neophytes

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

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

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 souls pursuits hidden by its own works: the spirits thirst, the strife the restless silence, too much

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 thatll wash away empty hours and endless longing in this dead silence at sea I pull down chunks of sky

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

39 I cant cement cracks nor save the frames from collapse: the wreck reveals the myth I need not knit new dreams if truths 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

HAIKU

hanging door protector Buddha

wiping his face under the umbrella an old man with books

frightened of my muddy feet god in temple

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

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

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

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

sound of silence

shadows waver in the dewy grass butterfly

carrying the tomb of unburied days: New Year

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 to the swaying of branches springs 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

sunrise behind the temple clouds edge

a round moon rises early this evening pale creeper

seeking shelter a leaf falls into 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

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

lonely sunrise birds flying away in search of worms in ash

winter rain bends the roses low lumbar pain

flower beds purple pulsatilla winters end

caressing her pregnant belly water lily

waxing crescent searches the setting sun worshipped in water

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 on the squalid mattress crying inside

feeding spirits with limbs of uncircumcised boys a Ugandan witch

pulled from the rubble a newborns limbs with dead mom earthquake in Haiti

measures loneliness sip by sip at dining table

the mirror is so small I cant see the ocean beyond my own look

making holes in the wooden cross white ant

filling emptiness of the room with ikebana

pausing between bites on the guava tree the parrots

still fresh in the hankys fold-jasmine

after the party empty chairs on the lawn now moon and I

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

vultures waiting for the remains of sacrifice on the temple tree

night bombing oleander garden white as death

sunrise behind the temple clouds edge

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

her body the nights 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

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

writes with strands of watery hair on her bare back a love haiku

after the tumble buried between the sheets leftover passion

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) ________________________________________________________________

The book is available from: AuthorsPress, New Delhi. email: authorspress@rediff mail.com