Tuesday, October 7, 2014

BEYOND THE SHADOW : A Collection of Selected Poems

BEYOND  THE  SHADOW



--Ram  Krishna  Singh


1

ALLERGIES

The barber sees
a potential customer
in me but I pass

the tense faces
after the long walk sunshine
a fag in the car

short carnival:
neatly hide faded vests drying
in the balcony

helter skelter
afternoon windy rain
allergies again





2

WHO CARES?

Death hides in the body
but who cares? it’s obscure

living on the edge
seeking space into swamp

they all talk about the sun
swelling in the sky

and close eyes to the spider
spinning waves on the ceiling

all alone, but who cares?
suspicion and distance

like lovers they pretend
to leave yet stay longer

dishing out luxuries
showing off generosity

on the heart’s fancy table
waiting to welcome the guest




3

MIRAGE

They say my birth was a heavenly event:
here I am suffering third-rate villains
that erect walls to stop the chariots
from Merkaba: the angels fume but who cares
heaven is a mirage in human zoo




4

NEW YEAR

The dates on calendar question
all my undone acts

and  memories that haunt or fade
in nightly nakedness

stumbling toward the next day’s sun
without celebration

at 63 January jeers
my degenerating sex

a still itch: mantra and mirror
quiet God and drying petals




5

GLEAM OF LIGHT

Late August:
clouded midnight, sneezing
restless in bed

all negative vibes
well up the mind

jackals yell outside
I read Hsu Chicheng
for a gleam of light
  


6

I  CAN  LIVE

I’ve outlived
the winter’s allergies
and depressing rains
in a human zoo

I can live
my retirement too
without pension and medicine:

the wheelchair doesn’t frighten
I can live

uncared and unknown
survive broken home
the numbness of the arms
the pain in the neck
and inflation too




7

I SEE HISTORY CRIPPLED

Time’s wrinkling fingers
trivialize the sun and snow
in a crooked land

I see history crippled
with midnight dyspnoea
the green umbrella

hosts disaster:
the avalanche waits on its shoulders
the wound opens



8

DEAD OR ALIVE

My shrinking body
even if I donate
what’s there for research:

devil in the spine
abusing tongue in sleep
or bleeding anus

defy all prayers
on bed or in temple—
the same heresy

oozing and stinking
onanist excursion
dead or alive




9

CLAY  DREAMS

They make my face
ugly in my own sight

what shall I see in the mirror?

there is no beauty
or holiness left
in the naked nation:

the streams flow dark
and the hinges of doors moan
politics of corruption

I weep for its names
and the faces they deface
with clay dreams




10

SANGAM

The crack in the sky
is not the rosy cleavage
to rape the body

nor is the beast any free
to escape the bloody river
that reflects stony wrath
in doggy position

they all expect their reward
for burying the noise
of sunny fire wheeling
in frozen passion

turn beggars they all
search warmth with ash-smeared sadhus
at roadside tea stall
whistle and wash off sins

in sangam muddled
with privileged few soar high
but I’m glad I crawl on earth
my roots don’t wave in the air




11

WHY DO THEY QUESTION

If hand can meet hand
and embrace is not sin

if lip to lip kissing
or  cheek to cheek hugging

is not forbidden
why do they question

meeting of thighs or breasts:
divine in action

it’s spring; the body’s love
itching to bloom with soul




12

QUAIL DREAMS

I’ve lived 23000 days
awaiting a day that could become
god’s day in eden, earth or within

or even my grandson’s smile
on his first day in mother’s arms

now I sit an empty boat
on a still river
and shake with quail dreams



13


HERE AND NOW

The body is precious
a vehicle for awakening
treat it with care, said Buddha

I love it’s stillness
beauty and sanctity
here and now

sink into its calm
to hear the whisper in all
its ebbs and flows

erect, penetrate
the edge of life and loss
return to wholeness




14


THEY TOO KNOW

Flowers don’t bloom
in tribute to
builders’ apathy

the trees are dying:
they too know they’ll be felled
or the heat will kill

the concrete rises
calamity too will rise
none talk the ruins they bring



15

STRANGER

I don’t know where I lived
in my former existence
but the hell I’ve breathed
for three decades here
couldn’t adapt my soul:
I remain a stranger
to them and to the cold walls
that  put out the candle-lights
in my roofless house




16


INDIFFERENCE

Being good
couldn’t make me know
any better

I was harmless
they sold my name
and became
what I couldn’t

in the middle of day light
I vanished like faces
from voters’ list

with no difference
to who wins
or who loses
  


17

I TOO DESCEND

Some fresh bones and designer dress
distorted hopes, cataract vision
hardly any better the faces of the body

and if there is a soul, the soul hears

the map guides the mind’s midnight
but the destination is different

deception is courage

they know the end of journey
and get down when the train stops

I too descend




18

ECHOES  HAUNT

Sleepy roads
with or without light
tear the sky

I watch the murmur
in the misty darkness
Tao of midnight

tranquil emptiness:
breathing deceptive cold
the echoes haunt



19

QUAKES IN ELEMENTS

She trusts her reading of my horoscope
and predicts a comfortable future

even as I know my toothache
now means the fall of my teeth
and anal bleeding means sure surgery

my dying libido is as uncomfortable
as the dream of humans sleeping on the ceiling:

their flattened naked back amuses me
who knows who’ll fall first?

before I wake up I try to gauge the selvage
of restless lines, moon, saturn, and venus
conspiring new challenges
for the quakes in my elements

it’s already mid-november
and the  bouts of bronchial allergy
tell of the cycle of incarceration
her moving lips are no soporific



20

NUDE  DELIGHT

The coiled divine
renews eternity
in the body’s cells
fed on sensuous sweetness
and moment’s littleness

for years fleshly reign
seemed spirit’s radiance
in the deep pit
now suddenly sparks the itch
for heaven’s nude delight





21

LET’S MEET

Before the bananas ripe
let’s meet at least once

lest the fog dampen passion
let’s water our love

the sun is bright this morning
and night’s promising

let’s meet and unfreeze winter
of years, drink some wine

restore warmth of faith and hope
and heal the breaches

without black goggles for seeing
let’s meet at least once




22


DRIED  VISION

Teary eyes
with sparks and lightning
dried vision

caged existence
seek deliverance
muttering old prayers




23

SEASON’S  PRICK

Unpruned roses
and unknown grasses
make me aware
of the emptiness
the  dusk in her room sounds

she searches out
her shadow in
the rising moon

I feel the season’s  prick



24


DEGENERATION

When gods are out to teach me a lesson
where to  go to pray or find relief?

my prophet friends predict  each day good
and the future fulfilling, the palmists find
the  sun, saturn, venus and rahu hostile:

they seek money for rituals, stones or mantras
while God gives us the best in life gratis

I can’t change man or nature, nor the karmas
now or tomorrow they all delude
in the maze of expediency and curse
stars, fate, destiny, or life before and after
degenerating the mind, body, thought and divine




25

CRACKS

The cracks on the parapet
have widened for the peepal
to stay green for once
rains too want us to drench
our heads and feel one
with cool wind
in a dark corner
shed fears and enjoy love




26

BUGGING

Each night a challenge:
suffocative restlessness
sleepless spirits’ noise
sexual starvation
anal menstruation
dingy subcounscious

conspire behind closed eyes
absent healing and
wishful miracles

a clueless sun rises
bugging time and life




27

NEIGHBOR

With scheming mind
and crafty heart
loud and rebellious
a professional loser
perfumes the room
with flattering lips
and strays a preacher
to revolution




28

VACATION

Because I had no STD code to dial Heaven
I walked into Hell measuring happiness
in buried lines on palms and shrinking head:
I couldn’t know when love sieved and sank
like a ship on vacation




29


YOU CAN’T SCENT ME

In the poems I write
you can read my mind
even know when I’m blue

before the mirror
when I stand in the dark
you can’t scent me

nor will words comfort
in chilly December
when alone in candle light

empty coffee cups
deride the syllables
I spin to make haiku

my hairs in air
reveal the baldness:
wank without wad




30

I TALK TO MYSELF IN BED

After a day’s labor
they lie on a sand pile
in the basement of
a new shopping complex
rising slowly next door
like the waves at Nellore beach
that broke before wiping
my name on the sand

I take a snap at sunset:
they play with plastic bottles in water
or eat fried fish in the huts

I’m warned against placing it on Facebook
she hates my face

nor am I allowed to speak
to the drug addict picked up
from  the door steps of
Varsha Apartments

his father questions
if there’s law in the country
only a street dog wags its tail

I wheeze and take a seroflo puff
and wonder if I should visit
Nimhans and get checked
to manage my sleep

she questions why I think of Bangalore
for treatment  of all my ailments
and takes me to Bannerghatta  zoo
for animal viewing


--RAM KRISHNA SINGH





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