Poetic Galaxy Atunis features my poems

 https://atunispoetry.com/2022/11/01/ram-krishna-singh-india/

 

Ram Krishna Singh (India)

Posted on November 1, 2022 by agronsh

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Ram Krishna Singh (India)

 

Ram Krishna Singh, born, brought up and educated in Banares (Varanasi), is an Indian English poet, who has been writing for over four decades now. He is widely published, anthologized and translated into several languages, with over 20 poetry collections to his credit. These include Tainted With Prayers: Contaminado con Oraciones (English/Spanish, 2020), A Lone Sparrow (English/Arabic, 2021), Against the Waves: Selected Poems (2021), Changing Seasons: Selected Tanka and Haiku (English/Arabic, 2021), Covid-19 And Surge of Silence/Kovid-19 Hem Sessízlík Tolkȋnȋ (English/Tatar, 2021) , and 白濁: SILENCE: A WHITE DISTRUST (English/Japanese, Kindle Edition/Paperback, 2022). Now retired and settled in Dhanbad, Professor Singh pursues his own literary interests. More at https://pennyspoetry.fandom.com/wiki/R.K._Singh

 

 

BANARES

 

The Ganges condescended

to flow down from Shiva’s matted hair

with white laughter

from the Himalayas to Kashi

it shone so pure and bright

but failed to quench

the earthly thirst

or cleanse the human heart

their sinful mind

the goddess couldn’t change

I clearly see in its apparent grace

missing all turbulence

so necessary to wash out

the ills of ages it seems

it’s lifeless now

impotent to set right

the rotten state of man

 

 

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

 

 

BODY: A BLISS

 

To see you naked

is to recall the earth

says Garcia Lorca

 

it’s no sin to love

strip naked in bed, kitchen

or prayer room

 

the bodies don’t shine

all the time nor passion

wildly overflows

 

but when we have time

we must remember parts

arouse dead flesh

 

rub raw with desire

peeling wet layers through light

sound, senses and taste

 

play the seasons:

the thirst is ever new

and blissful too

 

to recreate

the body, a temple

and a prayer