Sunday, January 13, 2019

For Priti by Ram Krishna Singh

Saturday, January 05, 2019

My poems

Friday, December 21, 2018

R. K. Singh: The Poet Who Celebrates 'senses' to attain 'Nirvana' by Ram Kulesh Thakur


THAKUR, Ram. R. K. Singh:. Journal of Linguistics & Literature, [S.l.], v. 1, n. 1, p. 136 - 154, dec. 2018. ISSN 2617-3611. Available at: <https://jll.uoch.edu.pk/index.php/journal2/article/view/29>. Date accessed: 21 dec. 2018.



  • Ram Thakur Associate Professor K L University KLEF Vijayawada, India

Abstract

This paper discusses a few of R.K.Singh’s characteristic poetic traits that make him stand apart from all his contemporary Indian poets writing in English. His poetry is an honest attempt to portray the contemporary world in its true hue and color; present an inside-out delineation of the modern man; and touch upon all the so-called ‘untouchable’ i.e., topics such as ‘Sex’, ‘Prostitution’, ‘Cultural Degradation’, ‘Stinking Politics’, ‘Religion’, etc. Reader finds Singh celebrating all his senses in his ‘unique’ attempt to attain the state of complete ‘Peace’ or ‘Calm’. His poetry serves as a medium for him to reach the state of ‘nirvana’. Reader finds Singh’s poetry as a prism that diffracts the worldly affairs into different spectrums, analyses each, and again sums it all into a single hue of liberation and peace with ‘detachment’ displaying the mark of a seasoned ‘yogi’. The paper aims to encourage other researchers and people in the academia to explore recent band of emerging Indian poets expressing themselves in English.

Key Words: Poetic traits, brevity, sensual imagery, social consciousness, existential concern, degrading values, politics, spirituality.

For full article, Click the following link:

https://jll.uoch.edu.pk/index.php/journal2/article/view/29/24




My tanka in Serbian by Anisija Crepovic

My tanka in Sebian

Haiku magazin for Serbia prof.dr Ram Krisha Singh




Ogledalo proguta
moje otiske na obali
ne krivim talase
guske su me nadmasile
sory guske su me naletale
 
(as shared by Anisija Crepovic via Messenger)

Thursday, December 06, 2018

36 Haiko: R.K.Singh, translated by Dr. Mohammad H.Rishah

د. محمد حلمي الريشة






Image may contain: one or more people and text
رام كريشنا سينغ*
----------------
36 هايكو
---------
ترجمةُ: د. محمَّد حِلمي الرِّيشة
-----------------------------
1
كرةٌ حمراءُ
ترتفعُ عندَ الفجرِ:
تتماوجُ السَّنابلُ


2
مستيقظًا
وحدَهُ عل سطحِ البيتِ
عصفورٌ

3
المعبودُ الأَسودُ
ينتظرُ المتعبِّدينَ لتفقُّدِ
الكركديهِ غيرِ المزهرِ

4
ركبةٌ غارقةٌ فِي بركةِ ماءٍ
تنتظرُ صيدًا طازجًا لشراءِ حليبٍ
لمولودٍ جديدٍ

5
تجلسُ القرفصاءَ
فِي وسطِ الحقلِ
امرأَةٌ معَ طفلٍ

6
يستريحُ
فِي شقِّ الصَّخرةِ
نحلُ العسلِ

7
ثعبانٌ نائمٌ
التفَّ بينَ البيضِ —
طبقاتٌ مِن أَوراقِ الأَشجارِ

8
رابطةً تنُّورتَها
تملأُ جيوبَها
بحبَّاتِ مانجو غيرِ ناضجةٍ

9
رائحةُ السَّمكِ
فِي زجاجةِ عصيرِ التُّفاحِ —
فكهانيٌّ متجوِّلٌ

10
السَّمكُ المجمَّدُ
تغلبُ عليهِ رائحةُ
التَّوابلِ المُدْمَيَةِ

11
الأَخاديدُ
بقعٌ مِن أَشعَّةِ الشَّمسِ
المتمايلةِ

12
الشَّوارعُ المزدحمةُ
تتحرَّكُ فِيما بينِ سنواتِ
الوجوهِ البائسةِ

13
صدعٌ فِي المنجمِ:
أَثرُ سائقِ شاحنةٍ قلَّابةٍ
يندبُ أَباهُ

14
العيشُ مرَّةً أُخرى
نافورةٌ علَى قمَّةِ التَّلِّ —
ضوءٌ غائصٌ

15
عنكبوتٌ أَصفرُ
يربضُ فِي زاويةِ
أَنسجةِ شبكاتٍ غيرِ مرئيَّةٍ

16
السَّماءُ
بدونِ ظلٍّ
علَى الأَرضِ

17
تتجمَّعُ الغيومُ
فوقَ الرَّابيةِ —
الهواءُ، أَيضًا، يتحوَّلُ إِلى اللَّونِ الأَسودِ السَّوادِ

18
تنتشرُ فوقَ التَّلِّ
دوائرُ دخانِ الخريفِ —
ينسابُ شعرُها الطَّويلُ

19
رطوبةٌ فِي العرَقِ
مِن عطرِها
تحتَ الذِّراعينِ

20
شفَّافةٌ
فِي سَاريها الأَحمر
أَطرافُ أَصابعِها

21
يمسحُ وجهَهُ
تحتَ المظلَّةِ
رجلٌ عجوزٌ معَ كتبٍ

22
بينَ أَضواءِ الشَّوارعِ
وزجاجِ النَّافذةِ
ظلٌّ ذئبيٌّ

23
كتابُ الصَّلاةِ
يغطِّي الزُّجاجةَ —
شرابهُ الأَخيرُ

24
جسدانِ
يتعرَّقانِ معًا —
الشَّفقُ

25
فِي الحمَّامِ
الرُّوحُ العاريةُ معًا —
الشَّفقُ

26
مضطجعةً بملابسِ نومِها
تمسحُ قطراتَ المطرِ الطَّائشةَ
التَّي استقرَّتْ علَى وجنتَيْها

27
مشاهدةُ
الظَّلامَ ما بينَ النُّجومِ
المضيئةِ

28
علَى ضفَّةِ النَّهرِ
روحهُ مضاءَةٌ لأَجلِ السَّلامِ —
فانوسٌ فِي السَّماءِ

29
غيرُ قادرةٍ علَى رسمِ خريطةٍ
علَى الوجهِ أَينَ يَنتهي أَلمُها
وتبدأُ بدايتُها

30
مختفيةٌ بينَ الأَوراقِ
حواسِّي المخنوقةُ —
عسلٌ مملَّحٌ

31
فِي صمتٍ
إِنسانٌ بمشيئةٍ إِلهيَّةٍ
سيَنمو فِي الدَّاخلِ

32
يلامسُ وشمَها
فِي ظلامِ المرآةِ
القمرُ منَ النَّافذةِ

33
ينحرفُ
فِي صمتِ اللَّيلِ
ظلُّ القمرِ

34
تتشابكُ معًا
شعلاتُ مصباحٍ مزدوجٍ
علَى الشُّرفةِ

35
قاعةُ الانتظارِ مزدحمةٌ
حرارةٌ جسديَّةٌ معَ ملابسَ كريهةِ الرَّائحةِ:
قطارُ منتصفِ اللَّيلِ لَا يزالُ متأَخِّرًا

36
أَغلقَ مَا بينَ
سَريري واللِّحافِ
بردُ ديسمبرَ

* شاعر هنديّ، ومترجم على نطاق واسع في اللّغة الإنجليزيّة. ممارس معروف فِي الـ"هايكو" والـ"تانكا". ألّف 42 كتابًا، تتضمن: "أنا لست اليسوع وقصائد مختارة أخرى"، و"تانكا وهايكو" (2014)، و"لا يمكنك أن تعطّرني وقصائد مختارة أخرى" (2016)، "الرّب أيضًا ينتظر الضّوء" (2017)، و"النّمو بالدّاخل" (2018). هو الآن متقاعد بدرجة بروفيسور.
Ram Krishna Singh *
----------------
36 haiku
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 https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=2117350294994889&set=a.502181063178495&type=3&theater

Friday, November 30, 2018

My Haiku in Alipore Post

Sunday, November 18, 2018

Let's Meet

 http://indiewritersupport.com/profiles/blogs/let-s-meet?xg_source=msg_appr_blogpost

Let's Meet



Before the bananas ripe


let's meet at least once





lest the fog dampen passion


let's water our love





the sun is bright this morning


and night's promising





let's meet and unfreeze winter


of years, drink some wine





restore warmth of faith and hope


and heal the breaches





without black goggles for seeing


let's  meet at least once





From: YOU CAN'T SCENT ME AND OTHER SELECTED POEMS, 2016

Friday, November 09, 2018

My poems featured in Cholla Needles, Issue 24, 2018

  Published in: Cholla Needles (Joshua Tree, California, USA), Issue 24, November 2018, pp. 17-23





R.K. Singh

Sweet Savors

Strayed far from the nest
I’m fed up living with dust
for years fleeting shade

bereft
of melody
of spirit I sink to
the hades of utter loss
I can’t

reckon hidden mysteries
I have lost the sea
for a mere cupful

void of patience and
peace now as I touch the breasts
of the field I crave

for a pure breath
native to
my being I search
sweet savors

of love




Burial


I want to burn the fallen leaves
but fear the flame will hurt the trees

I can’t stand the stench rains bring
the backyard is too big to clean

I can’t rescue my habitat
nor trim the trees for better light

this all reflects the shambles made
for disco of convenience

why regret burial by
taunting helplessness now?




Now


My time is now
the day of salvation
where is Father?
playing patty cake?
I sit a potted plant
and wait at the doorstep
tumbling sun and shade


Chain
 
I do not write the sun, storm or sea
but re-create myself and others
in verses turn time or pluck some stars
to find my ways through masked trenches
witness to my sinking into mud
that curves the memories into bias
disgrace dust, sky, wind, all relations
window of emotions I must chain
to breathe a pure breath without passion
and discover essence of beauty
spring a move toward self harmony
perfection and peace, prelude to nude
enlightenment to carve life in full



Song of Songs
 
I’m true in my element
begotten of earth
hungry to mate with sky:

seek me in song of songs
in kisses that he and she
rehearse on way to bed

the voluptuous squeezes
fulfillment of godly
and bodily promises


Rainbow
 
They color their hair
paint the face to look younger
and speak aged lies
to match rainbow life but stare
into the sky to find
which color follows which
before melding into one
they wonder what to do
with beige and indigo shades
that stick their vision



God, Sex And The World
 
It’s part of prayer
to have the lingam kissed
or kiss it to feel

the creator’s pulse
for a moment
that the body too

that houses the spirit
we seek in His name
for relief and salvation

through the cycle
of day and night
meeting and departing

learning and unlearning
each moment synthesizing
god, sex and the world



Closed Eyes

 
The faces appearing
and receding in
dark of closed eyes

don’t answer why
they aren’t winged souls
fading in the sun

I emptied before it set
in the gowns of girls
stopped from dancing bare foot:

they shake autumn in the rain
mist blurs the image
water spills in shady pool



Hope Of Divinity
 
The falsity of the sky is more real than the earth’s
lies can’t sustain hope of divinity

we have complicated with poesying
private hells to mitigate flow of time

that couldn’t carve heaven: we harbor histories
of broken promises and fallen gods

lament men and women buried in light
now soulless, bodiless, traceless we look

upward and whittle continents from clouds
hanging generations that may never be


There’s No Paradise
 
The fog in mirror
slips by damp towel
cold sets in slippery hands

rain flows on windows
black water crawls down
like diseased reptiles

why scrub the smelly
underbellies
there’s no paradise



Life’s Strange Relation
 
The mind is put off
before the act blood lets down:
it’s end before beginning

how can touch be erotic
with cold copula’s
in drunken gibberish?

they all chant their own
equations through grooves of night
trick weeds of ideas

life’s strange relation:
words belong to all
and deeds to a few


--R.K.Singh