Collects all of my published poetry books. Also provides an uptodate view of my poetry, especially haiku and tanka.

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Ram Krishna Singh is a university professor whose main fields of interest consist of Indian English writing, especially poetry, and English for Specific Purposes, especially for science and technology. He was born on 31 December 1950 in Varanasi, India. Apart from a BA earned in 1970, he gained his MA in English Literature from Banaras Hindu University in 1972 and Ph D from Kashi Vidyapith, Varanasi, in 1981. He also obtained a Diploma in Russian in 1972. Dr Singh started his career in journalism, as a Compilation Officer in the District Gazetteers Department, Lucknow, 1973, and a Journalist with the Press Trust of India, New Delhi, 1973-74. Changing to teaching he became a Lecturer at the Royal Bhutan Polytechnic, Deothang, Bhutan, 1974-76. Joining the Indian School of Mines in Dhanbad as a Lecturer from 1976-83, he then rose to Assistant Professor in 1983 and full  Professor and Head of the Institute’s Department of Humanities and Social Sciences since 1993 to 2011. He is now Professor of English (HAG).

A reviewer, critic and contemporary poet who writes in Indian English, Dr. Singh is the author of more than 160 research articles and 175 book reviews. He has published 39 books, including:  Savitri : A Spiritual Epic (Criticism, 1984); My Silence (poems, 1985); Sound and Silence (edited articles on Krishna Srinivas, 1986); Indian English Writing : 1981-1985 : Experiments with Expression (ed., 1987, rept. 1991); Using English in Science and Technology (textbook, 1988, rev. and rept, 2000); Recent Indian English Poets : Expressions and Beliefs (ed. 1992); Two Poets: R.K. Singh (I DO NOT QUESTION) Ujjal Singh Bahri (THE GRAMMAR OF MY LIFE) (poems, 1994); General English Practice (textbook, 1995); Anger in Action : Explorations of Anger in Indian Writing in English (ed.,1997); My Silence and Other Selected Poems : 1974-1994 (poems, 1996); Above the Earth’s Green (poems, 1997); Psychic Knot : Search for Tolerance in Indian English Fiction (ed., 1998); New Zealand Literature : Some Recent Trends (ed.,1998); Every Stone Drop Pebble (haiku, 1999); Multiple-Choice General English for UPSC Competitive Exams (textbook, 2001); Cover to Cover (poems, 2002). Pacem in Terris ( haiku, English and Italian, 2003), Communication : Grammar and Composition ( textbook, 2003), Sri Aurobindo’s Savitri : Essays on Love, Life and Death ( Critical articles, 2005), Teaching English for Specific Purposes : An Evolving Experience ( Research articles and review essays, 2005), Voices of the Present: Critical Essays on Some Indian English Poets (2006), The River Returns (tanka and haiku collection, 2006), English as a Second Language: Experience into Essays (ed. research articles, 2007), English Language Teaching: Some Aspects Recollected (ed. research articles, 2008), Sexless Solitude and Other Poems (2009), Mechanics of Research Writing (2010), Sense and Silence: Collected Poems (2010),  New and Selected Poems Tanka and Haiku (2012), and I Am No Jesus and Other Selected Poems, Tanka and Haiku (2014). His works have been anthologized in about 160 publications, while his editorial activities extend to include guest-editing of Language Forum, 1986, 1995, and Creative Forum, 1991, 1997, 1998, besides being co-editor of the latter publication from 1987-90, General Editor of Creative Forum New Poets Series, and service on the editorial boards of Canopy, Indian Book Chronicle, Indian Journal of Applied Linguistics, Reflections, Titiksha, International Journal of Translation, Poetcrit, Impressions of Eternity (ie), and SlugFest. He has evaluated about 50 PhD theses from various universities. He has also edited the ISM Newsletter for about five years.

Monday, October 09, 2006


The sky couldn’t retain

all of the moon now entering

my house through windows

A star shines bright

beside the crescent moon:

she fakes a smile

Through the small windows

gaze at the moon hid behind

cloud after cloud

Shaking hands

couldn’t part with the henna

on her palms

Reluctant to climb

the spiral staircase--

bathing in kitchen

Measures loneliness

sip by sip

at dining table

From the alcove

removes faded flowers

and kills black ants

Thick dust on leaves

unwashed by rains for days--

stagnant time

Oleander and

hibiscus blaze with passion--

making love in sun

Post-lunch nap:

in the drawing room counts

beads of sweat

Two wolves smell

the carcass in field

heat wave chills

Summer vacation:

the noisy roomcooler pricks

my silence

Dust storm this evening--

end of the mango season

without tasting fruit

Throwing stones

at unripe mangoes--

two urchins

Couldn’t keep

freshness of leaf

in water

The first rains coming

back from the desert home-

plateau souvenir

One more empty day

but in the mailbox a hint

of hope tomorrow

Where shall I keep

the thirty years junk if

I go elsewhere?

A sad soul

under the mango--

my husband

In the well

studying her image

a hooker


the night’s long journey

her short story

Patterns of hair

block the flow:

flood in bathroom

Cooking smoke waves

to the afternoon sun:

ruddy backyard

Chilly night

no soul on the road

guard at gate

Welcoming the sun

dew drops on dry leaves--

an epitaph

After the walk

two women relax on bench

exchanging tensions

After cleaning

the maid leaves behind

an oily smell

A tiny spider

on the marigold sucking

its golden hue

Seeking its roots

around oleander leaves


A Christ crucified

with the violence of music

in the hall

After the party

empty chairs in the lawn

new moon and I

A dead voice

calling up at dawn:

drowsy eyes

Such a wild change

in the mirror beside her--

I look a stranger

Stoops to set

pleats of her saree


Meeting her once and

so much love in one night

to last the whole life

Each sun aggravates

sadness moment by moment:

watching lonely street

Narrowly escape

the midair web of spider

perched on hibiscus

After extraction

he gives me my old tooth

list of drugs and new bill

A moth

struggling for life

on wire

Palms waving to greet

the first rain of the season:

I wait in the room

Craving for a lick

of the salt on her skin

to become one with her

Desire for diamond

dies with price I can’t afford:

curse astrologer

Wish I could be part

of the quietude this morning:

the sun’s so promising

Between virgin curves

he deep-breathes evening mist

rests in the hollow

A load of wood

on her frail back

autumn evening

Their shadows dissolve

and reappear walking

along the river

On a cycle

he sells bouquets and roses

peddling dreams

A watchman gazes

the stars on her body

elements clack

Alone on the platform

wait for the train

swatting mosquitoes

Summit of silence:

crossing the river-

feet dry

Scars of existence--

wintry sun and chilly night

crouching on footpath

A dead man

couldn’t keep standing--

lies in dust

Knocking emptiness

I cross the valleys within

now stand at stone gate

Love’s beauty

happening in the soul

God presence

Silence of class test

occasion for haiku thoughts

lost in lecture

To give voice to stone

he chisels the soul-image

Krishna plays the flute

A lamp on the river--

the breast in bridal grace

waving in the gloaming

In the spring sun

the lone pomegranate tree

smiling with buds

The blue-white dapples

on the canvass seeing

the eye of silence

The mirror is so small

I can’t see the ocean

beyond my own look

Silent Ram sheds

tears over the bodies burnt

in temple’s name

Violence breeders

climb power ladder--

peace stings

Tears invisible

on his water face

Buddha meditates

Through long shadows

in the morning remembering

gradual death

After the ‘plane bomb’

stuck between concrete rubbles

a mother and child

In the naked grave

some flesh still clings to the bones:

flies drone the last breaths

Lost in black box

he searches love to live--

smoulders in ash

They still bomb

lands for peace repeat

August 6

They kill and hide

in mosques pray, in fear

kill more, and flee

To hunt the hunters

flames mate with flames--

touch the sky

Her presence--

alien sensation

in my veins

In my courtyard swoop

neem, peepal, cheeku leaves:

autumn’s ballet

Between her fingers

and lips swaying

some puffed rice

Still fresh

in the hanky’s fold--


Soft footsteps

of students bunking

class test

Her smile

arrival of spring

at the bower

A butterfly

restless over the other

trying to console

Ahead of us

racing hyacinths

in the river

Two lizards

inside the switchboard

turned on

Two of us

at the waterfall

spraying love

The whole night waiting

for the train running late

drowsy sunrise

The nightqueen fragrance

seeps in from the windows

my bedroom blooms

She snuggles up

in my arms her dimples

joy of heaven

Her birth--

a poem dancing

in the eyes

Swirling spiral

of her skirt spills tides of dream

and memory

Echoes of night song

flutter our embrace in bed:

rushing morning rays

Drowsy day

waning sex and love-

seasonal trick


drop of water on

lotus leaf

Baked and cracked

the sugarcane field

melts into mud


winter leaves behind


One more year

hanged with calendar-

a new god

Picking at a dead

frog on the road--

a crow

A crow picks at

cow’s back in the afternoon--

drooping rag-picker

Green velvet

from gate to door--

monsoon end

A moving train--

confined in water bottle

rhythmic ripplets

Two toads croaking

in the drain celebrate

sudden shower

Chased by a cat

a rat

sinking into the sand

Sculpturing psyche

in the city of dumb dreams:

idols sweat in sun

Elements clack

in the small house shudder

the harp and strings

God, the first victim

in the divided city:

one more house torched

Basking in the past

they grow backward and yet talk

about the future

Tattooed on her back

a nude exhibits a nude--

FTV model

Cut wrongly

each body a slave--

grey faces

Tainted tongues

weave mazes to stop

births of light


after ejaculation--


Her wet lingerie reveals

more than her body--

I drown in her sea

A stray sperm

grows in the ovum

blooms as puffball

Winter chill--

her face grows

more wrinkles

I see a finger

point to the eye in her breast

mist lingers on lips

No letters today--

addresses of his dead friends

greying in diary

With changing weather

they look for sun and shade both:

chameleon tune

She resents

remembering allah

in her car

In the class test

etching nudes on the desk

two late comers

Night bombing

oleander garden

white as death

Vultures waiting for

the remains of sacrifice

on the temple tree

Seeking for

the white of the sky

in your closed eyes

It’s still overcast

fumes rise from smouldering ashes--

terrorists’ attack

On the marble grave

mating sparrows celebrate

peace in cemetery

So much night

around the street light-

no one’s safe

Heat wave burns and blows

the withered nests whole night

birds wail searching for shades

In the AC room

last night’s coldness continues:

outside summer sun

Clad in swimsuit

her body in water sweeps

waltzing ripplets

He sees the world

through the light of the body

with single eye

Lingering in bed:

to go to church or pub--

Sunday morning


our night clothes

await washing

It still lingers like

the taste of stale love last night:

man and mask one

Joy of union

reduces as rhythm falls:

restless embers grow

She hides the mirror

with rose and lipstick

and keeps her fiction

Reshuffling the shelves

it’s only dust, in alleys

sneezing scholarship

Gentle breaths prick

cheek and chest unclinging

looking away

We come together

to make love against the wall--

harvest for no one

She undresses in

dim light perfumes her body

fills room with herself

Love waves rise and fall

between our shores of soul

drinking each other’s sea

Shouting at her--

the breakfast aggravates

fire in the throat

The lone mushroom--

a pregnant woman

stares out of the window

After dinner

leaves a freezing banana

on the bed

Moving shadows

in the silence of the room--

windows rattle

Hungry eyes

rest on their graffiti

on the desk

Face hidden

at the window hear

known voices

Facing the sun

the lone flower

dying to bloom

After the sunset

wheels of a returning cart

along the paddy

Unmoved by the wind

he sits on a rock wearing

peace of the lake

Unable to see

his pale shadow reeling through

vapour of the earth

Night washes the sky--

the sun brings morning freshness

to my window

After days

of depressing rains

golden orb

Her frisky bounce

like snakebird springing its head

in water preying

Her eyes flash in dark

the eel slides into her cave

I watch the mirror

They take off again

their unthrown nets frighten fish--

water turns whiter

Storms circling within

love is vision in action

blue dot in deep space

Sound turns fainter

with greying geometry

a rusted sign

Hope in hidden words

the invisible essence

nearer dawn’s glory

The mountain doesn’t know

the river flows through its skin

now stains memory


emptiness of the room

with ikebana

A fly flying

in IC 809

free of cost

On a sheet of ice

the chick trying to free itself

from its mother’s claws

Two souls celebrate

sailing on flames of white light

new millennium

The lone hibiscus

waits for the sun to bloom:

morning’s first offering

Rain-soaked sun

sheds its sultry light--

her bare back

Dew drop

on a blade of grass


A child’s fingers feel

the butterfly lying

one with yellow leaves

Shell-shocked or frozen

he stands in tears on hilltop

craving nirvana

A dead leaf hangs

by a spider’s thread

invisible in sun

Staring at each other

two fishes in half-filled tank

ready for truce

All guests gone:

after the late party

night and I alone

Icy bed:

moving the pillow

closer to hers

Only two of us--

and a big house with roaming

rats and cockroaches

Under a tree

in meditation sunken:

a quiet stone

No god appears

in the dark of my closed eyes--

dream-image falters

The little toddler

with her fey appearance:

a woodland sprite

Seeking good news

I watch the lines on my palms

taking new turns

We meet again

in the album ever fresh

her memory

Waving arms of trees

conspire with overcast day

to drench again

Tending the hooks

she blushes to see

the line of jewels

The half moon

on her neck reminds of love

before departure

Her trilling laugh

on the phone--

spring love

Chess of love:

checkmate before

playing the game

Falling leaves--

a sheet of autumn

in the courtyard

They all look for

a little more moon coming

back from movie

Waves of mist shine

with sun the day resumes

laughter shakes each bough

Fearing allergies

he misses full moon party

savours white light

After morning walk

the trio gossip each day

fresh revelation

The holy Ganges

tolerates the city’s garbage

even rape and death

Greeting the first rains

after months of soaring heat--

the lone mango falls

Exploring the world

in haiku silence God

an event

The string of life

lost in the knots of small things:

living tragedies

Sweeping gelled leaves

they raise dust in my compound

agitate windpipe

The lone letter box

rusting in rain for years

none come to open

Prolonged rains keep

dahlias from blooming--

seeds die again

Shining on rose-leaves

silken layer of dew drops:

gloss of her mauve smile

Chilly wind slaps

the window panes closed to keep

cross-legged couples warm

Cloud over cloud

darken earth and hide stars:

dawn and dust one

Red oleander and

hibiscus calling morning

to Kali

Making love

she presses with her nails:

sparrow sports

After lunch

stretching legs in cubby-hole:

a frog


Copyright: R.K.SINGH

First published in a trilogy collection, Pacem in Terris (Trento, Italy: Edizioni Universum), 2003. Also, translated into Italian in the same volume.


Blogger Robert Pullman said...

I tried to read this but there were more lines of HTML code (!--[if !supportEmptyParas]-- !--[endif]--) than there were lines of poetry.

7:36 AM  
Blogger Matilda said...

I couldn't read all of this, but I loved what I could read. Your haikus are wonderful. Do you write in English, or do you translate it later?

5:00 AM  
Blogger R.K.SINGH said...

Hi, robert: I think now they have set right the html code and page is perfectly fine and readable. I too had been very worried about the problem as a reader.
Please do visit the pages once again and let's stay in touch.

9:47 PM  
Blogger R.K.SINGH said...

Hi, matilda: I have been writing in English for the last four decades. I fail to translate my poems from English to Hindi.
They have removed the html code and the pages are perfectly readable. Please do visit the blogs again and enjoy reading my verses. Thanks

9:49 PM  
Blogger hifidel said...

I've been reading through and enjoying your material. It's great you've posted your collections here for readers.

Thanks for the invite you left at my other blog. I've bookmarked you and will be back to read more.

hifidel (poetically challenged, at the other site)

3:36 AM  
Blogger R.K.SINGH said...

Hi, hifidel: Thanks for taking note of my work and bookmakring me. I await your fresh response one of these days, even if you consider yourself poetically challenged. If you enjoy reading 'poetry', you are just as good as I am.
All the best

10:22 PM  

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