Watching dogs

watching dogs
frolicking in the park--
jaded couples

--R K Singh 

Reading two poems from my book POEMS AND MICROPOEMS

My poems featured on Poetic Galaxy Atunis

 https://atunispoetry.com/2023/03/31/ram-krishna-singh-india-2/

 

Ram Krishna Singh (India)

Posted on March 31, 2023 by agronsh

 

 

 

Ram Krishna Singh (India)

Ram Krishna Singh, also known as R.K.Singh, has been writing for over four decades now . Born (31 December 1950), brought up and educated in Varanasi, he has been professionally concerned with teaching and research in the areas of English language teaching, especially for Science and Technology, and Indian English Poetry practices. Till the end of 2015, Professor of English (HAG) at IIT-ISM in Dhanbad, Dr Singh has published 56 books, including poetry collections Tainted With Prayers/Contaminado con oraciones (English/Spanish, 2019), Silencio: Blanca desconfianza: Silence: White distrust (Spanish edition, Kindle, Spanish/English, 2021), A Lone Sparrow (English/Arabic, 2021), Against the Waves: Selected Poems (2021), Changing Seasons: Selected Tanka and Haiku (English/Arabic, 2021), 白濁: SILENCE: A WHITE DISTRUST (English/Japanese, Kindle Edition/Paperback, 2022), SHE: Haiku Celebrating Woman That Makes Man Complete (e-book, 2022), Drifty Silence (e-book, 2023), and Poems And Micropoems (2023). His haiku and tanka have been internationally read, appreciated and translated into several languages.
More at: https://pennyspoetry.wikia.com/wiki/R.K._Singh .

NEW SLAVERY

From the 15th floor window I watch
racing on the muddied road
dreams the ugly beauty of tomorrow

the romance of the miserable
the egotist, the cunning, the heart-broken
the idealist, the maniacs, the enlightened cheats

the crafty and the unlucky too
who conceal cavity in their shoes
in the gallery of Great Tech Game

fabricating newer lies and hypocrisies
of saffron politics, secular faith and people’s power
spilling blood to heal history of wrongs

create new cultural fantasy
new racism, new slavery
homegrown narcissistic lords and ladies


SEARCH FOR LIBERTY

Why do they ignore the clitoris when half the world has it?
the lovers don’t care, the doctors don’t talk

it’s no leaf that falls on the wave’s crest
and rots on the shore before they prescribe
a chocolate remedy or testosterone cream
to revive in dapple light:

denial is the way of life
be it desire, emotion, or frailty
for conformity, unity and control

the redness of the setting or rising sun
is too much to the drab colors of the priests
who accuse of heresy, witchcraft or immorality
to shut the so called hot beds of sedition

when all they seek is stoppage
of the show of teeth, blood and skull
in the spinning wheel
condemned to nursing home


HEAVEN’S BREATH

I don’t know how to negotiate the long steep trail
with hidden scorpions under loose rocks
at home with human muck in a valley existence
strolling upward through a thicket of TV images
politics of glory, garbage and god
the odd arts of money, hierarchy and control
nobody knows who unmakes whom

I don’t know how to follow the ridges
back to the trail and the dead river
but stand for a moment to rub the sand from my feet
before worrying about the lost vitality and fear
of the approaching night and rising smoke
dissolving in the sky or conspiring with elements
hardly in balance but contorting the psyche

I don’t know what is there for me to hope
when the rains rejuvenate and flood both
the repulsive stench and the loss of pathways
linger longer than the flavor of the first drops
under the tree the puddle feeds no sparrows
but algae that couldn’t dry now trap tiny souls
that fail to swell with heaven’s breath


ONE MORE POEM

I don’t long for the past that swings and rings
I don’t care for the future I colour
with empty wishes prayers and meditation

dreams’ dark inspiration carves the present
I suffer more at night than in the day
breathe hell seeking freedom in the body

through friends in spirit turn sanguine despite
the tricky degeneration in shared life
one more day passes one more poem born


LET IT GO

Silent gaze of paper deities
from the little temple
in a corner in bedroom
fills me with hope:

anything may happen anytime
despite uncertainty
unending jealousy
or tragedy in life

I look for grace within
contemplating the unsaid
in the rhymes of rogues and heroes

I’m not afraid of
the body in crumbled soil
there’s always another chance
to re-form my own present

re-write another half-page
in drunken oblivion
God is going to let it go


HERE AND NOW

I don’t deify poets or politicians
nor trade in faith for bread

I don’t sell gods and goddesses
spirit is not my profession

nor do I give moral discourse
for life in the next world

I am a man like millions
who dream, struggle, and die

and nobody mourns
my drifty silence

hidden in darkness
flecks of light

enough to weigh down
here and now


AGAINST THEWAVES

The crowded lift and emptiness of the flat
doesn’t help me resurrect what’s gone

late at night I may pile hopes on a pale paper
trying to invent a new life to live with

end up seized by pain trolling in the shady light
double bed, blank mirror, and still greyer dawn

the pillow hurts, the image derides, the prayers fail
the roaring inside, the ghostly silence

and unfading darkness. I’m no Odysseus
but keep straying against the waves


BEFORE THE MIRROR

Stand naked
before the mirror
see changes
from top to toe
a tragic tale:

loosened muscles
stretch marks on the knees
varicose veins
and a long journey
from eyes to anus

itching, bleeding
swelling, aching and
degenerating
with fears in restroom
bedroom, car, airplane

the virus haunts
from tummy to temple
issues have me
coming and going
yoga or no yoga

it’s not ageing
but undying sensations
feelings I peel
to stay synced with energies
that play not with one but two

to define love
rescue the self and other
make room for truth
far from the fetishes
in the maze of mad pursuits


SHE : A Fragment

i.
rocking chair:
sun through the clouds in
verandah
after days of rain
and nostalgic nights

she hands me
a lukewarm tea of
ginger, clove
and honey to make
love and stay alive

ii.
shadows fly from my fingers
with the moving wrist—
the hand disappears

I can’t touch her heart
under the tan skin:
they waver behind the glass

hissing through clenched teeth
as I sip my drink
she gives me a frozen smile

iii.
who can see
except myself
the ghetto within?

I laugh away
when she senses it
in the façade
of the forgotten
I reinvent
searching miracles
in her annoyance

iv.
she props the stooping lemons
with stake but avoids
bending close to me:

I die to draw the blossom
in my twining arms
but she likes the other scent

v.
she’s graceful
on bended knees
supplicant
head bent, in peace

victim of whip
can’t pull back
past happiness
love’s sharp tongue

he’s no lug
can’t see the gems
in rain drops
her aura shines

vi.
I feel her hyaline influx
in my deep love leaps
from the soul with subtle glows
her breath runs through my veins:
this vassal of the flesh blushes
as I drink the infinite in her

vii.
don’t question the lips
that wilt the tongue
licking wetness in the mouth

the mystery of delight
prophecy of the birth
by salty swallowing

make new parables
with face mask surviving
one more gospel

viii.
To see you naked
is to recall the earth
says Garcia Lorca

it’s no sin to love
strip naked in bed, kitchen
or prayer room

the bodies don’t shine
all the time nor passion
wildly overflows

but when we have time
we must remember parts
arouse dead flesh

rub raw with desire
peeling wet layers through light
sound, sense and taste

play the seasons:
the thirst is ever new
and blissful too

to recreate
the body, a temple
and a prayer

 

 

 

My Three Poems Published in Rendition of International Poetry (China)

 

Ram Krishna Singh[India]

Cry for alternative(and other two poems)

There is a whole lot of crowded life under the long  fly-over

—from fish market to plastic tents and car parking to excretion—

poorpedestrians can’t cross the road either side

              

they fear auto rickshaws, bikes, food stalls, pushes and pickpockets

on the footpath extended shops short-circuit every movement

oppositeParas Cancer  Centre in Raja Bazar

 

it’s a sight of sepsis with multiple dysfunction

—a consilience of rural ambition with urban abundance—

they cry for alternative diagnosis but lack doctor and ventilator

 

 

Nobody asks me

From lattice window

I watch the doomed and dying each day

 

read the tattooed name

of her first love on the right arm

 

waking up the drunk

with tenderness of youthful mom

 

bitchy fight at night

for booze or sex in candle light

 

smoking dreams of years

with dirt or grease between fingers

 

hissomniloquy

drugged-out face, doomed grin, boys’ dustup

 

now the Covid smells

they shift lamp to live with shadow

 

lockdown images

burning, buried, floating bodies

 

I nearly die

nobody asks me my last wish

 

 

Gospel

 

Don’t question the lips

that wilt the tongue

licking wetness in the mouth

 

the mystery of delight

prophecy of the birth

by salty swallowing

 

make new parables

with face mask surviving

one more gospel

 

 

拉姆 ·克里希纳·辛格[印度]

哭求不同（外二首）

 

长长的立交桥下，一大堆拥挤的生命

——从鱼市到塑料帐篷从停车场到排泄物——

可怜的行人无法从马路的两边穿过

 

他们害怕自动黄包车，自行车，小吃摊，推搡，扒手

人行道上，一字儿排开的商贩，随时会拥堵

就在拉贾集市的帕拉斯癌症中心对面

 

这是一种多功能紊乱的败血症症候

——城市的富裕与乡村的野心交合的产物

他们哭求不同的诊断，却没有医生，没有呼吸机

 

 

没人问过我

从格子窗

我观看那命中注定且将失去的每一天

 

在右臂上初爱的名字

从宿醉中醒来

 

带着年轻母亲的柔情

晚上放荡的行为

 

因为醉酒 

因为烛光里的性爱

 

数年的梦  从指间消散

带着尘灰  与油腻

 

他的梦呓

过量使用麻醉剂扭曲的脸庞，命定失败者的微笑，男孩们的躁动

 

眼下散发着病毒的气味

他们挪走灯台，与阴影同住

 

隔离的形象

燃烧，埋葬，浮萍般的死尸

 

我快死了

没有人问问我，最后的愿望

 

 

福音

 

不要质疑嘴唇

使舌头干瘪

舔着嘴巴里最后的湿润

 

快乐的奥秘

生的预言

因咸的吞咽

 

作新的比喻

面具还活着

再来一次福音

（王国己译；Tr. Wang Guoji）

 

 

About the author:

Ram Krishna Singh, an Indian English poet, has been writing for over four decades now. He has published  22 poetry collections, including You Can’t Scent Me and Other Selected Poems (2016), God Too Awaits Light (2017),  Growing Within/Desăvârşirelăuntrică (2017), There's No Paradise and Other Selected Poems Tanka & Haiku (2019), Tainted With Prayers: Contaminado con Oraciones(2020),  A Lone Sparrow (2021), Against the Waves: Selected Poems (2021),  Silencio: Blanca desconfianza/ Silence: White distrust (Spanish/English, 2021),  Covid-19 And Surge of Silence/Kovid-19 Hem SessízlíkTolkȋnȋ (2021), and,  白濁: SILENCE: A WHITE DISTRUST (English/Japanese, Kindle Edition/Paperback, 2022). He retired in 2015 as Professor at IIT-ISM, Dhanbad. 

 

 

作者简介：

 拉姆·克里希纳·辛格，印度以英语写作的诗人，创作生涯已打40多年，出版了22部诗集，包括《你嗅不出我选集》《上帝也在等待光》《内部生长》《没有伊甸园及其它选诗》《因祷告被败坏》《孤单的麻雀》《逆流而上：诗选》《沉默：无伤大雅的戒备》《新冠病毒及阵阵沉默》《沉默：无伤大雅的戒备》（英日对照版）。他于2015年从丹巴德印度矿业大学教授任上退休。

 

Published in Rendition of International Poetry (P.R.China), Vol.110, No.2, May 8, 2023, pp. 64-65 

My two poems appear in Life and Legends,December 9, 2020

Ram Krishna Singh

 

Against the Waves 

The crowded lift and emptiness of the flat

doesn’t help me resurrect what’s gone

late at night I may pile hopes on a pale paper

trying to invent a new life to live with

end up seized by pain trolling in the shady light

double bed, blank mirror and still greyer dawn

the pillow hurts, the image derides, the prayers fail

the roaring inside, the ghostly silence

and unfading darkness. I’m no Odysseus

but keep straying against the waves

 

*****

.

Prayers

I don’t know where it goes to or piles up

but grief is a large storage corrupting moments

of soft arousal: the body fails the mind

the screaming in the head and the grunt around

continue the night’s drunken flow

into the morning’s miserable brush

with the wheel’s slant truth and slangs

I poach in poetry to bare the sermons

lost in nostalgia or

insomnia of prayers

 

*****

 --R K Singh

 

ON A MAY NIGHT

 

Haibun:

 

ON A MAY NIGHT

The pandemic was on its peak and so was the summer heat. We were both alone, at a little distance in candle light, listlessly awaiting electricity supply, but there was no sign of comfort. We were Covid-struck, breathing behind the mask on our bed, silent outwardly but perturbed inside. While she stared at her nails, I watched the flickering flame. My mood couldn't be meditative, but feeling helpless, I mutely mumbled a prayer memorised years ago to uplift my sagging spirit:

"O my Lord! Make Thy beauty to be my food, and Thy presence my drink, and Thy pleasure my hope, and praise of Thee my companion, and the power of Thy sovereignty my succorer, and Thy habitation my home, and my dwelling-place the seat Thou hast sanctified from the limitations imposed upon them who are shut out as by a veil from Thee. Thou art, verily, the Almighty, the All-Glorious, the Most Powerful."

After a short while, I turned to her, watched the drowsy eyes, and felt like holding her in my arms.

midnight moon

senses aroused--

lift the veil

 

 

--R K Singh

 

Poverty

Poverty sneaks
through her wet garment
on the terrace

she talks to herself cursing
the day she was born and left
to negotiate truths
of gender, sex and adulthood

in the middle class
one-room apartment
physical rigmarole
buries sick delight
hope of wellness
fast and Sunday mass

her dispirited heart
sinks into dusk
and darkness eats
into her delight

Ram Krishna Singh

Ram Krishna Singh, an Indian English poet, has been writing for over four decades now. He has published more than 20 poetry collections, including You Can’t Scent Me and Other Selected Poems (2016), God Too Awaits Light (2017), Growing Within (English/Romanian, 2017), There's No Paradise and Other Selected Poems Tanka & Haiku (2019), Tainted With Prayers (English/Spanish, 2020), Silence: White Distrust (Spanish/English, 2021), and A Lone Sparrow (English/Arabic,2021). He is active on Facebook www.facebook.com/profrksingh and Twitter @profrksingh . More at pennyspoetry.fandom.com/wiki/R.K._Singh

 Published in Woolgathering, Issue 2, June 2021

http://woolgathering.org/issue2/ram.html