Saturday, December 19, 2015



RKSingh is a real poet
Living in an imaginary world
For he did not opt for
Pension, oblivious of
Hiding pain that
Would crop up with
Hoary head and creaky bones.

RKSingh is a real poet
Lamenting on the lost libido.
On his best half losing charm
And pleasures of the youth.

RKSingh is a real poet
For not being in company
Of chest beating, wallowing
And slogan mongering fascists.
Nor among the rigid white capped
Bearded goatees with jhubbas.
Nor those carrying a sacrificial cross.

RKSingh is a real poet.
Now, he will hibernate for Nirvana.

Bengaluru.   S.L.Peeran

PS:  poem composed on reading Sexless Solitude

With apologies
Wishing happy retirement

Sent from my iPad