Ram Krishna Singh
Contact Information
Phone   :
Email     : profrksingh@gmail.com
Address : Govindpur, Dhanbad 826008, India


LOVE MAKING: A Haiku Sequence


pre-morning mushrooms

blooming on the pubes:

dreamy arousal




he melts into her

time stands still




the sound of orgasm:

Lao Tzu



making love

she tastes the salt upon

his shoulder





candling in vein

leaves marks of teeth on her neck

utters holiness



unzipping her back—

hundreds of nights grow wings

with wasp touch




the white night:

lips meeting lips



writes with strands of

watery hair on her  bare back

a love haiku



after the tumble

buried between the sheets

leftover passion



she departs

leaving behind her clothes

over mine



still lingers

her scent on the linens

drying in shade


 --R K Singh


I don’t know how to negotiate the long steep trail

with hidden scorpions under loose rocks

at home with human muck in a valley existence

strolling upward through a thicket of TV images

politics of glory, garbage and god

the odd arts of money, hierarchy and control

nobody knows who unmakes whom


I don’t know how to follow the ridges

back to the trail and the dead river

but stand for a moment to rub the sand from my feet

before worrying about the lost vitality and fear

of the approaching night and rising smoke

dissolving in the sky or conspiring with elements

hardly in balance but contorting the psyche


I don’t know what is there for me to hope

when the rains rejuvenate and flood both

the repulsive stench and the loss of pathways

linger longer than the flavor of the first drops

under the tree the puddle feeds no sparrows

but algae that couldn’t dry now trap tiny souls

that fail to swell with heaven’s breath


--R K Singh



I live in a crowd of fakes

smallness rises with age


my mind has ceased to think

new metaphors hardly happen


hunger keeps me awake all night

I mitigate minginess


inner lives are emptied

and filled with fresh stresses


too many fault lines run through

to make sense of the divide


my passion itches and prompts

I nuzzle the virtual too


it’s the same virus replicating

the same hackers that hurt


the vigor and rigor of

the new, left or pushed behind


whatever the remedy

wounds take deaths to heal






Luck awaits me

if I could buy it from

her miracles stores


she gives me three dates

for her call to reach

the higher cosmic forces


she dreams me stand

in the middle of a

tree-lined park


against saffron flowers

flashes of light focus

on my serene face


the shower of gold tempts

a being of light descends

I’m offered a new life


divine abundance

defeat of enemies

and stream of love


if I could pay

for her rituals of

angelic magic





It’s part of prayer

to have the lingam kissed

or kiss it to feel


the creator’s pulse

for a moment

thank 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



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