UNTITLED

 

 

UNTITLED - I

 

1

The mask of man they paint

with so many fingers as brushes

man’s only colour now

 

2

 

They take away the day’s flower

husk I retain for tomorrow

nobody knows what the robbers may look for

 

3

 

Unable to rise beyond themselves

they worry about their colleagues’ peace

and die of selfless jealousy

 

4

 

Apple, snake and three-fifth of me

in bed manipulates man

inside selfish rubbles

 

5

 

The painted paper-god and Christ on the cross

stand on the dawn-coloured wall of my bedroom

watch sex, prayers and restlessness each night

 

6

 

The colour of night is the same everywhere

what if my identity is not known

let’s fuck the moment and forget the place

 

7

 

If passion breeds beads of sweat

in winter night the plateau is reached

too much love can run one out

 

8

 

Crushed heads of serpents coil along the road

green glitter of stream strikes my vision

I walk and fear the growing ripples in urinal

 

9

 

It needs less than a drop to procreate

but months and years of readiness to enjoy

sex sustains both life and art

 

10

 

Once your body was the sitar waiting for my touch

the sweet fragrance of your hair still lingers

but the cigarette that was mine is now ash

 

11

 

Locked in the giant Chandragupta

I fly over snow stacked stones

and defy clouds in unseen sun

 

 

12

 

Civilization hasn’t spared the caves

man suffers in the hands of parasites

here too who work often go without food

 

 

13

 

The smile you weave splits the sun

I lose my direction in clouds darkening

the white of the lake moon kissed

 

 

 

UNTITLED - II

 

 

1

 

Here she goes in the long light

and swiftly a shadow moves with her

 

2

 

What if my nights are poisoned by evil spirits

they can’t corrupt my bare truth in one life

 

3

 

The fire broke out to retaliate

they fight with lightning

 

4

 

Where will I reach running with gluey feet on gashed earth

a relentless sun licks leftover of a dying day

 

 

5

 

Not to kiss my feet they rush

waves vie with waves to reach the shore

   

6

 

The dance of rain is good for a short

but the fall of sky is too much

 

7

 

Keep my cracked tongue tightly closed

lest they diseased mind is known

 

 

 --R K SINGH

 

https://www.setumag.com/2020/10/short-poems-ram-krishna-singh.html