H A I K U
Love tickles
with erect pistil:
hibiscus
Oleander and
hibiscus blaze with passion—
making love in sun
Suspended
on the spider’s web—
a hibiscus
Narrowly escape
the midair web of spider
perched on hibiscus
The lone hibiscus
waits for the sun to bloom:
morning’s first offering
Red oleander and
hibiscus calling morning
to Kali
Without washing hands
he touches hibiscus for worship:
her frowning glance
After little rain
lilies smile with hibiscus--
the sun in May
Too short
can’t reach the height:
hibiscus
To reach the branch
raising her other arm—
twisted hibiscus
Chrysanthemum
on the mossy roof
deeply rooted
Too big for its web
between two roses—
a yellow spider
In their webs
spiders racing to spin
their meatless prey
Around falling leaves
a lone dreaming flower—
mid-February
Stands alone in
the assembly of flowers—
Valentine’s Day
Not sad to die
blooming after a day’s rain--
the mushroom
Fresh mushrooms
hidden in decaying leaves:
missing the season
Shrouded in fog
the lone pomegranate
in the courtyard
Lying in the dust
a guava bitten off
by the parrots
Pausing between bites
on the guava tree
the parrots
Ravined inner shell
of the walnut—
his face
Her shapely figure
in orange blouse and blue jeans
strained at the hips
Taking a nap
on oranges in his shop—
a fruit vendor
He stands before
the nude Venus awaiting
her gown to drop
Diving in the sky
apsaras on the stone caves—
God-touch in motion
December morning—
the first roses in the lawn:
fragrance in passing
Leaves sway
to fly like birds
free in the sky
Waving down
a leaf settles between
her breasts
Veiling her breasts
with the season’s first snows—
the hill blushes
All night trees wave
with roaring winds:
autumn in the courtyard
Autumn’s mellow mists:
none available to clean
the carpet of leaves
The autumn flame
infects his reverie:
panic in the leaves
Bluebells and hazels
lost in rustic kisses:
morning stars burn
0n a lean
branch of neem swinging
a bulbul
A bulbul
watching from the snapped twig—
empty street
The courtyard stormed
with dried leaves and tamarind:
her frail hands sweeping
From tree to courtyard
cotton balls blown on the wind—
seed in the centre
Her scarf—
a rainbow of flowers
moving in the sky
Her visit—
a transient painting
on holiday’s floor
Painting mom’s smile
with broken crayons—
smiling Winny
Painting
spring with willow
as brush
Intruding
her voice
on the phone
Switching on
the hearing aid:
wife’s warm soup
With her saree
hitched up between the legs
my wife in bed
Raising her saree
above the thighs bends to ease
and blocks my way
Rising early
to make tea for everyone
the newly wed wife
Mouth opened
to lick her ice cream—
brown tongue
As the duo sit
lights go out—
sofa springs creaking
Dissatisfied with
each other the two of us
in an empty house
In the grey of dusk
sway between hope and despair
their dream promises
Leaning sideways
she looks at mango pickle—
caries ache
She repeats my ills
to express her anger but
I know only her love
Basking in the sun
files nails in garden chair
my wife’s friend
No joy in lighting
the candles this Diwali:
both the children away
Awaits his son’s
phone call from the border:
dogs and cats wail
His son’s voice
not relayed by wire:
tense borders
His first winter
inside a fibre-hut
swirl of snowflakes
Distance mounts
each time he visits home:
love’s last rites
With sweated smile
stands behind the broken fence
his aged father
Not age but
years of worries
his furrowed face
Shadow of age
on the wall—
second full moon
Whiteness of the moon
and rocks howl with the wind—
December in the veins
A star shines bright
beside the crescent moon
she fakes a smile
A crescent
in the western horizon—
missing the moon
A thin fog
hides the wintry moon
rising slowly
The sun not yet set
but the full moon rises
as if in a hurry
The half moon
on her neck reminds of love
before departure
Enveloping
all of the moon at night—
white chrysanthemum
After the party
empty chairs in the lawn—
new moon and I
The sky couldn’t retain
all of the moon now enveloping
my house through windows
Setting moon
leaves behind sparkle
on the waves
Noisy birds
don’t let me sleep:
midnight moon
Through the window
gaze at the moon hid behind
cloud after cloud
Fearing allergies
he misses full moon party
savours white light
Wet bodies
of bathing women:
full moon night
Squeaking
under the blue moon—
the dry sky
They all look for
a little more moon coming
back from movie
Standing behind
the window bars observes
darkness in shapes
Unmoved by the wind
he sits on a rock wearing
peace of the lake
Night bombing
leaves the garden
white as death
An A-bomb victim
from behind the window bars
bowing to the sun
Vultures waiting
for the leftovers
of the sacrifice
In the ruins
searching her photo:
evening
Alone
on her bed rings
the cell phone
A dead voice
calling up at dawn:
drowsy eyes
Waiting for the train
alone on the platform
swatting mosquitoes
Without humming
mosquitoes alight and bite—
all night awake
Leaving the signs
of mosquito menace
on white wall
All guests gone:
after the late party
night and I
Nothing changes
the night’s ugliness
in the lone bed
From wheel chair
unseeable
distances
Days after the ‘quake
staring at the rubble—
a homeless widow
This festival too
couldn’t change the cracked glass
now pen and pencil stand
Negotiating
the long sleepless night with
mantra and alprax
Alone
in a shrunken bed
aged love
In the well
studying her image
a woman
Knitting silence
my wife on the bench
after lunch
A moth
struggling for life
on wire
Searching food
in the street garbage
a dog and a girl
A kidnapper stands
behind the statue of Gandhi
to escape bullet
Smoking cannabis
at the Sabarmati—
2 October
The lone poet
watching his interview—
two minutes fame
Night’s rumblings
prayers add wings to breezes
morning’s serene calm
Meditating
in the morning sun—
his long shadow
Repeated orgasm
in the back: morning round of
halāsana
Unmindful
of the body’s joy—
the ascetic
A young couple
under the red umbrella
rejoicing privacy
First he, then she
wipes the post coital shit
with underwear
Awaking
before the climax
the other woman
Between virgin curves
he deep-breathes evening mist
rests in the hollow
Shell-shocked or frozen
he stands in tears on hill top
craving nirvana
The lone mushroom—
a pregnant woman
stares out of the window
Facing the sun
the lone flower
dying to bloom
A dead leaf hangs
by a spider’s thread
invisible in sun
Under the tree
in meditation sunken
a lone stone
Alone
on the National Highway
Hanuman
So many headlights
and my myopic vision—
walking difficult
They walk on red coal
matching steps with drum-beats:
carnival of ecstasy
Keeps him sleepless
fireworks and high decibel
puja all night
Sleeping
on the cold floor
a mother with child
Awaits sunrise
to hire an auto safely
sits at the bus stand
The young maid
giving her nightie
another spin
Two women argue
over price and weight of fish:
the hapless huckster
Carbon flakes drift
high above the flat I cough
they widen the roads
Burning tap water
and seething house in the morning
heat wave cripples
A bubble flying
from over the shaving brush
bursts on the mirror
The village pond—
waiting for her arrival with
a baited hook
Surviving
in the crevices
cockroaches
Cleaning dusts
from the bottles
unopened yet
Chanting mantra
with wine in one hand and
torch in other
A mother and child
stuck between concrete rubbles:
fidayeen attack
Setting ablaze
Muslim houses and children
seekers of Ram
White-yellow trail
the Mirage on mission:
ten souls buried
Amidst roaring guns
clouds blossom snow lotus:
light hilly terrain
On the margin of
home-to-work-to-home routine—
life’s achievements
Shivering in the cold
young boys sell balloons late night—
New Year revelers
Half-fleshed faces
track from behind the windows
rawness of journey
Journeying tries
to raise his silence
to prayer
Never enough
the earth’s hunger for graves:
peace barricaded
The red light is on:
they all have secrets to hide
no use peeping in
In measured pace
hit for divinity
two political golfers
Disposable blades
one over the other—
dusty switchboard
Seismic lab
a network of cobweb:
no earthquake for long
No Zen thought—
scribbling haiku with
gun in hand
Staring at the huge
Stone-penis at Shinto shrine—
two female lovers
With her breasts bobbing
up and down she challenges
the moon as she walks
Sees the eyes
in walls as I rise
to kiss her
Drowned
in empty whiteness:
love
Wiping tears
from each other’s eyes
two souls in love
Writing with strands of
watery hair on her back
a love haiku
Love of three decades
extinguished in a moment—
anger in the mouth
Shedding bitterness
of the tiff in sex act
she and I
Moist lips parting
on a tea cup promising
expectation
Tastier my tea
with her one sip—
I keep the cup
Bending down to pick up
apple she presses
piercing embrace
Looking lovingly
she bends his head down to hers
twines like a creeper
She preys the body
behind obsidian sheath
fatuous flap
After burns
leaving the body
the dead skin
Rain-soaked sun
sheds its sultry light:
her bare back
Her palms
the only lingerie
in Fashion Show
Crouching out of the bath
with hand on the genital
his new tenant
A pregnant woman
bending over the mushroom
bloomed under a tree
Awaits the bloom
of love in her womb:
silent action
Lovely with hope
the glow in her eyes:
no need of sun
Her body—
the night’s perfection
in dim light
Seeing her
a liquid sensation
between the thighs
On a canvas
a poet in twilight
painting her skin
Sensing her presence
he stares down the street—
lingering perfume
A star in making—
but an island appears:
the palm amuses
Sipping gin with lime
he says he loves sex each night
but hates the smell
Looking for Taj in grains
through sand-storm find history
trapped between toes
Bleeding fingers draw
new domes of betrayal in
windy matrices
He walks down the aisle
looking for the nave in her
to kneel and slide out
His tongue
between the teeth—
sudden sneeze
Fed up with my sex
she threatens to move
to our daughter’s room
Leaves him alone
to escape daily rape
in bed his wife
The bedroom altar
no substitute for temple—
sacrifice of sex
Winter’s chill—
sweating under the gown
her thighs and breasts
Scanning
her stooping breasts—
the first night
Measuring life with
ejaculatory rhythm—
envies sparrow sports
Her thighs—
resting place for my head
on bed
Trying to decipher
the complex curves on my palms
in the morning rays
Fondling her breasts
I incite a poem
on her body
A film of mist
between my eyes
and her image
Locked in her eyes
the bright glow
of the goddess
Melting in
the colour of the heart
the sun in the west
A lizard shrieks
before the climax:
love making
The blood passes through
green veins I hear the heart play
melody of dews
Every breath
love in action—
fire in the hole
No bottom reader
but the shape and the lines do tell
she can stir the soul
The aching limbs and
blood dripping between the legs:
love-making postponed
With his head between
the knees he squats and smells
the body’s sweat
Bones rattle to make
a song of flesh in the night---
togetherness
Insomnia
blaming her
not old age
Lies with her
in freezing cold:
an empty tube
Invisible
jangles odours presences--
twinges in bed
Drying on the line
pork venison and beef--
the room smells their vests
Don’t know their tongue—
the stars beyond the mountains
whisper among themselves
While I lie alone
shapeless fears rest on my eyes
heavier than time
Searching salvation
a moth flies into the lamp:
oily burial
Colours sparkle in
the morning’s dew on the blooms—
my breathing changes
Nobody cares
burial of my dreams
in coal dust
Besides allergies
so many other complaints:
sudden weather change
Bronchial breathing—
the only sound audible
in the soulless space
Noisy birds
don’t let me sleep:
midnight moon
Sparrows couple
on a withered creeper—
peep of day
He sweeps yellow leaves
or gathers years in a heap
burns to merge with dust
Cleaning dusts from
the old sandals for a walk:
again the same pain
Peeling paint
from the drawing room—
shadows flicker
Seeing no image
in the mirror of time—
foggy blankness
Hot bath or no bath—
the cough persists unmindful
of the New Year’s eve
Sees in a flash—
opening the eyes
takes a long time
Linked with anxiety
my comfort at his home:
Ph.D. viva
Fear of forgetting—
car insurance premium
paid a month ahead
Fears the approach
of night with him—
twisting tassels
In the lone room
prefers haiku to yoga
drinking scotch
My bedroom
a maze of cobweb
spiders breed
Sunday afternoon—
waving into gin
two drops of lime
Difficult to change
I am what I have disowned—
dressing down salads
The bed is short
and the covering shorter—
crouching alone
Unruffled
by passions and clamours—
Buddha’s calm
Seeks Buddha’s stone bowl
to win the bamboo princess:
she dwells on moon beams
Her heart
a thousand doors of
oneness
Standing behind
the window bars observes
darkness in shapes
Disappears
into dust her last
photograph
Trying to read good news
I look at the lines taking
new turns on my palms
Looking for riches
in her left hand shortening
days on the pavement
They sculpture psyche
in the city of dumb dreams:
idols sweat in sun
Pulling out white hairs
she reminds increasing age:
time’s fragrance unchanged
Still a child—
embracing a breast
sleeps her man
Exchanging
anger with roses:
petals fall
They all walk
like shadows in night
for themselves
Lying on his table
a few unanswered letters
and unrealized dreams
A little child
chases the painted dreams
on butterfly wings
Two butterflies
racing with each other
perch on the wire
A child’s fingers feel
the butterfly lying
one with yellow leaves
Sudden rain drops wet
the wings of a butterfly
lying at the basil
Lost my way again
asking for direction:
a pleasant change
Locked between the cracks
cockroaches in the alcove
dropping their eggs
Awaiting their turn
to feast on a dead dog
crows in a circle
A crow hits
the scare crow and cracks
its earthen head
A crow picking
at the ripe papaya and
another waiting
A yellow spider
on the blooming marigold
weaves tiny webs
Two lizards fight
to mate on the wall—
balancing act
Swiftly passes by
a yellow snake on the grass—
moistened trail of love
After the quake
a dog sniffing his master’s
presence in the rubble
Searching Christ’s sandals
n the pile of shoes at the church’s entrance
Traffic snails through
the water-logged road I feel
a manhole cover
Dust mites devouring
the secrets preserved
in my diary
Seeing my shadow
three fish in the pond look
for a safe corner
In the well
studying her image
a woman
A hooker hides
behind the green letter box:
looking for a client
Cut wrongly
each body a slave—
grey faces
Too heavy
these man-made machines
choking weight
Students murmuring
over the class test result:
the teacher’s curved lips
In the moving train
sleeping on his feet
the newspaperman
Flowers inviting
seeds of love scattered in
the perfumed garden
Looking for a prey
a snake slides through the fence:
warmth of the sun
Safe from sun
under nascent leaf
a gold fish
After sleepless night
a drowsy sun tears
the morning sky
With sunrise
gone to sleep
the morning moon
Two dreamy eyes
await the rising sun
through the fogged window
A sweating sun
after the midnight chill—
changing hues of spring
The sun conceals
aeons of darkness planets
mirror in the sky
Closing its eyes
in the setting sun—
the Ganges in autumn
A cloud-eagle
curves to the haze
in the west
A butterfly rests
on the butterfly tattooed
on her sunning back
The sun not yet set
but the full moon rises
as if in a hurry
Setting sun
leaves behind sparkle
on the waves
Suddenly rise
the sleeping waves from far off—
‘quake in the sea
Swollen sea
boiling over the head—
roars increase
The sun rolls
on the waving Ganges—
whitens love-hope
On the wave’s crest
travels a fallen leaf—
rot on the bank
Couldn’t erase the wind’s
soliloquy from the waves
breaking on the shore
Traveling back
from the waves of bliss
a foam-leap
On the waves rise shells
in accents lie with love—
beauty on the shore
A lamp floating on
river breast in bridal grace--
waves in the gloaming
Bathing in thousands
they float lamps on her breast
the river sparkles
Knee-deep in the pond
standing obeisantly
nude worshippers
Ends with ritual
one more morning—
sun-worshippers in the pond
Awaits the sunrise
in the chilly Ganges
a nude worshipper
Sees visions
eating food of gods—
mushroom
Fills the void
with illusions and self—
names them god
December almost
over what new wish to add
to Christmas wish list
On Christmas eve
santa claus takes leave—
mist on chairs in pairs
Standing
between flowers
Jesus on the cross
Making holes
in the wooden cross
white ants
Colours of envy
stick on their colleagues’ faces:
Holi revelry
Krishna offering
parijata to Radha:
Narada looks on
The temple’s dome
in the flooded Ganga--
empty kalash
Fermenting spring
in the arms of lovers:
a secret sin
The cherry pink
in the spring—
a framed nude
Embrace
suffocates in bed—
chill seeps through slit
Wintry chill—
enters the cold bed:
skips morning walk
Winter allergies—
I stay inside to escape
the wind in full moon
The long night passes
sleeplessly I deep-breathe
the December chill
Alone and sleepless
count hours by asthmatic bouts—
the long winter nights
A part of the night
hidden in the morning moon:
the sun waves bye-bye
Nothing changes
the night’s ugliness
in the lone bed
The first night
spots on the sheet:
clothes wake up
Long wintry night—
opening the mail box
for a date
Vulnerable
darkness of the opening:
standing erect
Whiteness of the moon
and rocks howl with the wind—
December in the veins
Seek my haven
where the sky arches the sea—
a white gull leads
Stars mock his drinking
alone on the cement bench:
moon in the glass
Spend our short time
together after a long
watching the moon
Enveloping
all of the moon at night—
white chrysanthemums
Seeking smell
in cactus flowers:
late monsoon
Awaiting rains
for the litchis to sweeten
in the dry backyard
Clouds don’t rain
coldly come and go—
icy bed
All night rain
the gaping roof
her shelter
Sudden rain
on the way home—
a peacock
After the night’s rain
the sky’s still overcast:
wet Christmas today
Through thick clouds
sees an arc of moon—
her belly
Shadow of age
on the wall—
second full moon
Lonely nights and
days of non-stop rains—
depression mounts
Traveling
on the wings of winter
ill news
Celebrating
return of the light and warmth:
winter solstice
Feels the shadow
with wet fingers
in the fog
Mist surrounds:
the steel statue watches
few visitors
Morning fog:
her face invisible
even the sun
The evening fog:
invisible her hand
on my shoulder
Slowly clears
the morning fog—
end of the year
Swollen fogs
ready to make way
for the sun
Her make-up spoilt
in the evening mist:
looking for light
After dust storm rain
alloy with cool colours:
rainbow in the west
Splendid with the moon
night in silver peace dreams
through folds of light
Sees beard
shining in the mirror:
morning on the face
In a flash
trapping eternity—
the camera
Post-lunch solitude
filled with thoughts that couldn’t become
even a haiku
The first night:
spots on the sheet:
clothes wake up
A sly lover
ejaculates poison—
sting operation
With glittering diamond
on the navel swinging
an item bomb
The phone rings:
in the middle he rises—
prayers unsaid
With a telescope
view the lunar eclipse—
midnight shadows
Out of wood and stone
he carves his vision of peace:
night’s secret visage
In the ruins
searching her photo:
evening
Suffer animals
with a peculiar smeel:
men in white khadi
Crossing the shadows
in the Indo-Pak match—
the last ball
Drunken with force
spreading the century’s sore:
nine eleven
Freedom to kill
with faith in divine regime:
terrorist’s peace
Watches the snow rain
with finger on the trigger:
insurgence in Drass
Reaching nowhere—
ideas flying from the minds
of top echelons
Himself doesn’t
listen but teaches
communication
Her anger shifts
from manure to cellphone:
10 o’ clock soap
Winking at her
in the dark—
power cut
Two peacocks
on a dancing spree:
see water
Dancing
a few muddied crocs:
the river returns
Nibbling a leaf
between her fingers
a dragon-fly
A small frog
leaping on my hand
from the pothole
Birds crouch in nests
along the snow-clad path—
wheezing silence
Away from home—
smell of frying fish
in the air
Swimming afresh
in the glass box
two gold fish
Peace in silence
of the heart and body’s cells:
Buddha’s calm
Weaving its nest
Grass blade by grass blade
R.K.Singh
Sad and dull
his backyard poultry—
fears of bird flu
Mooching about
a rose petal in the sun—
a butterfly
An orgasmic view
from behind the car’s window
the Taj Mahal
Perches nervously
on the fence a squirrel
nibbling its luck
Puppies groping
for the tits of our doggy
relaxing in sun
Sudden screech of tyres:
a frog from the pothole
perches on the car
Selling tea
a mustachioed Mizo
in shanty
Awaits the train
in November night—
insects all around
Truce between
two lizards inside
the light fixture
Ten fish in the tank
rising in twos threes or fours
to the bait atop
Hiding in the shade
of toilet brush in the bath
a frightened mouse
Awaits a rickshaw
under the gulmohar tree
a girl with lilac
Jumped over the head
a sticky frog on the ground---
stoning to death
Alone
the cellphone on her bed
rings
In the changing hues
of rainbow in the east:
sun and lightning
Flashing a rainbow
at the dining table
her diamond nose-pin
Reflects the rainbow
in the mirror of water—
Yamuna Bridge
Copyright: R.K.SINGH, Haiku included in THE RIVER RETURNS(2006), Bareilly: Prakash Book Depot
