BEYOND THE SHADOW

--Ram Krishna Singh

1

ALLERGIES

The barber seesa potential customerin me but I pass

the tense facesafter the long walk sunshinea fag in the car

short carnival:neatly hide faded vests dryingin the balcony

helter skelterafternoon windy rainallergies again

2

WHO CARES?

Death hides in the bodybut who cares? it’s obscure

living on the edgeseeking space into swamp

they all talk about the sunswelling in the sky

and close eyes to the spiderspinning waves on the ceiling

all alone, but who cares?suspicion and distance

like lovers they pretendto leave yet stay longer

dishing out luxuriesshowing off generosity

on the heart’s fancy tablewaiting to welcome the guest

3

MIRAGE

They say my birth was a heavenly event:here I am suffering third-rate villainsthat erect walls to stop the chariotsfrom Merkaba: the angels fume but who caresheaven is a mirage in human zoo

4

NEW YEAR

The dates on calendar questionall my undone acts

and memories that haunt or fadein nightly nakedness

stumbling toward the next day’s sunwithout celebration

at 63 January jeersmy degenerating sex

a still itch: mantra and mirrorquiet God and drying petals

5

GLEAM OF LIGHT

Late August:clouded midnight, sneezingrestless in bed

all negative vibeswell up the mind

jackals yell outsideI read Hsu Chichengfor a gleam of light

6

I CAN LIVE

I’ve outlivedthe winter’s allergiesand depressing rainsin a human zoo

I can livemy retirement toowithout pension and medicine:

the wheelchair doesn’t frightenI can live

uncared and unknownsurvive broken homethe numbness of the armsthe pain in the neckand inflation too

7

I SEE HISTORY CRIPPLED

Time’s wrinkling fingerstrivialize the sun and snowin a crooked land

I see history crippledwith midnight dyspnoeathe green umbrella

hosts disaster:the avalanche waits on its shouldersthe wound opens

8

DEAD OR ALIVE

My shrinking bodyeven if I donate what’s there for research:

devil in the spineabusing tongue in sleepor bleeding anus

defy all prayerson bed or in temple—the same heresy

oozing and stinkingonanist excursiondead or alive

9

CLAY DREAMS

They make my faceugly in my own sight

what shall I see in the mirror?

there is no beautyor holiness leftin the naked nation:

the streams flow darkand the hinges of doors moanpolitics of corruption

I weep for its namesand the faces they defacewith clay dreams

10

SANGAM

The crack in the skyis not the rosy cleavage

to rape the body

nor is the beast any freeto escape the bloody riverthat reflects stony wrathin doggy position

they all expect their rewardfor burying the noiseof sunny fire wheelingin frozen passion

turn beggars they allsearch warmth with ash-smeared sadhusat roadside tea stallwhistle and wash off sins

in sangam muddledwith privileged few soar highbut I’m glad I crawl on earthmy roots don’t wave in the air

11

WHY DO THEY QUESTION

If hand can meet handand embrace is not sin

if lip to lip kissingor cheek to cheek hugging

is not forbiddenwhy do they question

meeting of thighs or breasts:divine in action

it’s spring; the body’s loveitching to bloom with soul

12

QUAIL DREAMS

I’ve lived 23000 daysawaiting a day that could becomegod’s day in eden, earth or within

or even my grandson’s smileon his first day in mother’s arms

now I sit an empty boaton a still riverand shake with quail dreams

13

HERE AND NOW

The body is preciousa vehicle for awakeningtreat it with care, said Buddha

I love it’s stillnessbeauty and sanctityhere and now

sink into its calmto hear the whisper in allits ebbs and flows

erect, penetratethe edge of life and lossreturn to wholeness

14

THEY TOO KNOW

Flowers don’t bloomin tribute tobuilders’ apathy

the trees are dying:

they too know they’ll be felledor the heat will kill

the concrete risescalamity too will risenone talk the ruins they bring

15

STRANGER

I don’t know where I livedin my former existencebut the hell I’ve breathedfor three decades herecouldn’t adapt my soul:I remain a strangerto them and to the cold wallsthat put out the candle-lights

in my roofless house

16

INDIFFERENCE

Being goodcouldn’t make me knowany better

I was harmlessthey sold my nameand becamewhat I couldn’t

in the middle of day lightI vanished like facesfrom voters’ list

with no differenceto who winsor who loses

17

I TOO DESCEND

Some fresh bones and designer dressdistorted hopes, cataract visionhardly any better the faces of the body

and if there is a soul, the soul hears

the map guides the mind’s midnightbut the destination is different

deception is courage

they know the end of journeyand get down when the train stops

I too descend

18

ECHOES HAUNT

Sleepy roadswith or without lighttear the sky

I watch the murmurin the misty darknessTao of midnight

tranquil emptiness:

breathing deceptive coldthe echoes haunt

19

QUAKES IN ELEMENTS

She trusts her reading of my horoscopeand predicts a comfortable future

even as I know my toothachenow means the fall of my teethand anal bleeding means sure surgery

my dying libido is as uncomfortableas the dream of humans sleeping on the ceiling:

their flattened naked back amuses mewho knows who’ll fall first?

before I wake up I try to gauge the selvageof restless lines, moon, saturn, and venusconspiring new challengesfor the quakes in my elements

it’s already mid-novemberand the bouts of bronchial allergytell of the cycle of incarcerationher moving lips are no soporific

20

NUDE DELIGHT

The coiled divinerenews eternityin the body’s cellsfed on sensuous sweetnessand moment’s littleness

for years fleshly reignseemed spirit’s radiancein the deep pitnow suddenly sparks the itchfor heaven’s nude delight

21

LET’S MEET

Before the bananas ripelet’s meet at least once

lest the fog dampen passionlet’s water our love

the sun is bright this morningand night’s promising

let’s meet and unfreeze winterof years, drink some wine

restore warmth of faith and hopeand heal the breaches

without black goggles for seeinglet’s meet at least once

22

DRIED VISION

Teary eyeswith sparks and lightningdried vision

caged existenceseek deliverancemuttering old prayers

23

SEASON’S PRICK

Unpruned rosesand unknown grassesmake me awareof the emptinessthe dusk in her room sounds

she searches outher shadow inthe rising moon

I feel the season’s prick

24

DEGENERATION

When gods are out to teach me a lessonwhere to go to pray or find relief?

my prophet friends predict each day goodand the future fulfilling, the palmists findthe sun, saturn, venus and rahu hostile:

they seek money for rituals, stones or mantraswhile God gives us the best in life gratis

I can’t change man or nature, nor the karmasnow or tomorrow they all deludein the maze of expediency and cursestars, fate, destiny, or life before and afterdegenerating the mind, body, thought and divine

25

CRACKS

The cracks on the parapethave widened for the peepalto stay green for oncerains too want us to drenchour heads and feel onewith cool windin a dark cornershed fears and enjoy love

26

BUGGING

Each night a challenge:suffocative restlessnesssleepless spirits’ noisesexual starvationanal menstruationdingy subcounscious

conspire behind closed eyesabsent healing andwishful miracles

a clueless sun risesbugging time and life

27

NEIGHBOR

With scheming mindand crafty heartloud and rebelliousa professional loserperfumes the roomwith flattering lipsand strays a preacherto revolution

28

VACATION

Because I had no STD code to dial HeavenI walked into Hell measuring happinessin buried lines on palms and shrinking head:I couldn’t know when love sieved and sanklike a ship on vacation

29

YOU CAN’T SCENT ME

In the poems I writeyou can read my mindeven know when I’m blue

before the mirrorwhen I stand in the darkyou can’t scent me

nor will words comfortin chilly Decemberwhen alone in candle light

empty coffee cupsderide the syllablesI spin to make haiku

my hairs in airreveal the baldness:wank without wad

30

I TALK TO MYSELF IN BED

After a day’s laborthey lie on a sand pilein the basement of a new shopping complexrising slowly next doorlike the waves at Nellore beachthat broke before wipingmy name on the sand

I take a snap at sunset:they play with plastic bottles in wateror eat fried fish in the huts

I’m warned against placing it on Facebookshe hates my face

nor am I allowed to speakto the drug addict picked upfrom the door steps ofVarsha Apartments

his father questionsif there’s law in the countryonly a street dog wags its tail

I wheeze and take a seroflo puffand wonder if I should visitNimhans and get checkedto manage my sleep

she questions why I think of Bangalorefor treatment of all my ailmentsand takes me to Bannerghatta zoofor animal viewing

Copyright: Ram Krishna Singh, 2014