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Blogs by Ram Krishna Singh
SOME TANKA from the River Returns
2/4/2008 8:29:24 PM
TANKA
She hears the voice
of unrealized bliss in
the coos of koel
at the window sill this evening
rains love and delight
His message to meet
at moonrise among the flowers
sparkles a secret
on her smiling face passion
glows with charming fervour
She is no moon yet
she drifts like the moon, takes care
of him from the sky—
meets him for short, waxing
leaves him for a long, waning
Before going to bed
she looks too sad to have
any sweet dream:
the lonely lamp glints no love
and no star peeks through the curtains
Yearning to meet him
she turns a silk-worm spinning
love-silk in cold night—
stands in a shade melting tears
like a candle, drop by drop
Stains of dried dewy
tears on the eyelids tell of
the load on her mind:
clothed in spring the willow twigs
reveal the changed relation
Locked in the shadows
of unrolled curtains her love
in the lone boudoir:
she plays tunes on the guitar
flowers fade at the windows
She senses all things
changing as she passes through
the city again:
should I leave the old house or
lie in the grave before death
Twisting tassels
round her finger fears coming
of night in bed:
octopus grips the body
and buckles into disgrace
At the river
she folds her arms and legs
resting her head
upon the knees and sits
as an island
Is it her quietus
that she roars in herself
like a sea
waves upon waves
leaps upon herself?
Gods couldn’t change the rhythm
of the body and its needs:
erotic scars stick—
after three decades love waves
tense the flesh and rock the night
When the sun is erotic
and the moon lyric
the winds turn tempestuous
in the orbit of love
legs slide by calls of nature
Before the foamy
water could sting her vulva
a jelly fish passed
through the crotch making her shy—
the sea whispered a new song
Swirling spiral
of her skirt spills tides of dream
and memory:
I breathe fire in the dance
forgetting bends and twists
When I wanted to change
seats my friend said she can
only if the door’s locked
the light out and her mom
in another city
When I inhale in
your mouth and exhale stroking
hair or caressing
I ride you into joy and
make you hail morning like earth
Life limits between
whence the sun rises and where
it goes to relax:
joys of a fleeting moment
I see Aditi in your eyes
When I have no home
I seek refuge in the cage
of your heart and close
my eyes to see with your nipples
the tree that cared to save from sun
The smile you weave splits
the sun I lose my direction
in clouds that cover
the banks darkening the white
of the lake moon kissed
Winter is caught in
waves of narrow discussions
under the blanket
fingers move by nipples erect
without sensing consummation
Drinking evening star
blue green patterns before eyes
no meditation
no god visits to forgive
the sinning soul in solitude
Exhausted she sleeps
unaware of my presence
this warm night carefree
I croon my spring song alone
and fill the void with new dreams
As I repose in
the wrinkles of her face
I feel her crimson
glow in my eyes her holy
scent inside a sea of peace
The room has her
presence every minute
I feel she speaks
in my deep
silently
Love is the efflux
from her body spreading
parabolic hue—
enlightens the self I merge
in her glowing presence
Looking at her face
for the glint of her nosepin
or rise of renku
they couldn’t finish but form
in their eyes together
Your vacant eyes
reveal this city:
dim, humid, absent-minded
orchestrates bronchial noises
‘quake in the face
Living in dust smoke
and white darkness I know
I just flicker—
stand alone like a lighthouse
lost in the fog of seashore
What should I do
about the mornings
that couldn’t be:
now fog controls
appearance of the sun
Breathing pipe choked
with coloured dust celebrate
spring in coalfield:
the moon mocks my nightly plight
I look for the inhaler
The chilly wind blows
to freeze my feet and fingers
tonight I can’t rise
and silence the whisperings
storming the vacant room
Ghosts rise to mate
in moonlight tear the tombs
frighten with fingers
rhino horns rock the centre
granite sensation
---R.K.SINGH, From The River Returns (2006).
Indian School of Mines, Dhanbad India
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More Blogs by Ram Krishna Singh
• EROTICS OF BYGONES - Saturday, September 6, 2008
• A Review of Hsu ChiCheng's REAPPEARANCE - Saturday, September 6, 2008
• VILLAINY - Thursday, August 14, 2008
• interpreting literature - Sunday, July 13, 2008
• LIBERATION - Tuesday, July 8, 2008
• THE POETICS OF R.K.SINGH - Monday, June 16, 2008
• THEY CALL GOD LOUDLY - Tuesday, May 6, 2008
• TAKE OFF - Tuesday, May 6, 2008
• STRIPPED AND NAKED - Tuesday, May 6, 2008
• ABUSING IN SLEEP - Tuesday, February 5, 2008
• OVERLOAD - Tuesday, February 5, 2008
• BARBED WIRE FENCE - Tuesday, February 5, 2008
• FOG: SOME HAIKU - Monday, February 4, 2008
• SOME TANKA from the River Returns - Monday, February 4, 2008
• AGAIN AND AGAIN - Monday, February 4, 2008
• MARITAL TENSION - Monday, February 4, 2008
• FIVE TANKA: R.K.SINGH - Tuesday, January 29, 2008
• HAIKU - Tuesday, January 29, 2008
• SOME POEMS: R.K.SINGH - Monday, January 28, 2008
• AN INTERVIEW WITH R.K.SINGH - Friday, January 25, 2008
• BODY: A BLISS - Friday, January 25, 2008
• AUGUST - Friday, January 25, 2008
• FROM THE WINDOW - Friday, January 25, 2008
• THE PROMISED NEW AGE - Friday, January 25, 2008
• BEACH - Friday, January 25, 2008
• New Indian English Writing: Postcolonialism, or the Politics of Rejection? - Friday, January 25, 2008
• Meditation - Friday, January 25, 2008
• A TRIBUTE TO KRISHNA SRINIVAS, EDITOR, POET INTERNATIONAL MONTHLY - Wednesday, December 19, 2007
• SEXLESS SOLITUDE & OTHER POEMS - Wednesday, December 12, 2007
• HAIKU OF R.K.SINGH - Tuesday, December 11, 2007
• SNAKES: A HAIKU SEQUENCE - Tuesday, December 11, 2007
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