see haiku here: Haiga 703 R.K.Singh haiku 1

see haiku here: Haiga 703 R.K.Singh haiku 1: Haiku by Prof. R. K. Singh (India). Artwork by myself. Dr. Ram Krishna Singh is a professor and a head of Department of Humanities and Soci...

Haiku by Prof. R. K. Singh (India). Artwork by myself.

Dr. Ram Krishna Singh is a professor and a head of Department of Humanities and Social Sciences, Indian School of Mine. He tweeted me some haiku the other day, and I suggested haiga collaboration. He then sent me a batch of haiku and I made several haiga from them. This is one of them. A few more coming later.

Poetry has been a big thing in India from before, and now there are more and more haiku writers appearing there. This is a good thing for world haiku.
My blog is been visited from many countries around the world: Rumania, Greece, Italy, Russia, Poland, Bulgaria, Slovenia, Croatia, Ukraine, France, Germany, Holland, Sweden, Norway, England, UAE, South Africa, India, Philippines, Malaysia, Singapore, Hong Kong, South Korea, Japan, China, Vietnam, Laos, Mexico, Brasil, Australia, USA, Canada, Netherlands Antilles, Trinidad & Tobago.
Haiku population is steady increasing indeed.

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Courtesy: http://seehaikuhere.blogspot.com/

Poems in Syndic Literary Journal, No.5

http://syndicjournal.us/syndic-no-5/poetry-by-ram-krishna-singh/

Syndic No.5

Poetry by Ram Krishna Singh

Poetry

by Ram Krishna Singh

POET RK SINGH & GRANDSON DEVANSH

“TIME IS RUNNING OUT”

I need a few hours
without god, thought, or self
and just be free

restlessness of night
now frightens the morning
I can’t even breathe

I can’t lie like
uprooted pole on the roadside
rubbished by all

no prayer helps
trust shrinks life without love
time’s running out

“RITUALS”
Hiding helplessness
in the luxury of prayers
he raises a wall
a babel of deception
through cocktail of drug and desire
meanders through dream-
miracles and wakes up to
unheard alarm
each morning repeats rituals
ageing time is ashamed of

“SAINTS’ BLASPHEMY”

I’ve lived so many deaths
now I fear living

there’s so much ruin
inside and around

no tattoos on breasts hide
the rusty cauldrons

none hear the raging fire
voices multiply

the darkness of earth seems
beyond verbal face

sun is stopped in temples
stones explode in hands

it’s vain to dream a new
picture of the world

the viewless shapes of gods
eternal twilight

it’s no use flying so high
the sky seems shattered

the city is haloed
in saints’ blasphemy

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