Tuesday, January 17, 2012

After Eve (Part Two: Chapter one and two) Description & Ancient Language

!±8± After Eve (Part Two: Chapter one and two) Description & Ancient Language

Description

For a description of my character, and that of my comrades in the dream you may want to go to the end of the book to review: the 'Profile of Characters' and look at some of the pictures I have provided, but for this part of the book, let me be descriptively speaking, on my looks--: my upper jaw extended out, but not too far out. I didn't walk quite upright resembling modern man, or as one might say, the more highly specialized primates; but then I didn't drag my hands akin to the Branch-People [the folks that lived in the Trees, who were really a mixture of primates--I think; some slow-moving, others very quiet and some fast-moving, most were plant life eaters]; we were beyond that stage. My forelimbs, maintained an adaptation for climbing, yet we frowned on it, we'd rather run the solid ground than jump from limb to limb. And we had advanced from sleeping on cliffs, and in trees [or I should say most of us had], to sleeping in caves.

My weight was about 160-pounds, probably I was a breed between a few different species, as I implied before, like the Branch-People, or people that lived in the trees, we had what was called subfamilies [I sensed in my dream we had mated with the Branch-People, and possibly with the People of the Fire; that is, during the first part of my dream; as the dream went on many things were clarified]; as I am describing, please do not infer that I am trying to say: I believed I came from a long line of reincarnations, for that is far from the truth of the dream [again I repeat, I may have been mixture of many groups, like a bowl of vegetable soup one might add]. If anything is to be inferred, it might be that the God of Eve saw pity on the Horde and gave it a cranial uplift; meaning, a bigger brain, or greater capacity to reason. But I am getting off track, let me refocus. As I was about to add, I was not, I say not robust, in body structure, and not as hairy as the Branch-People [thank goodness], nor did I have their dark completion. Plus I could make odd looking tools out of chipped stone, and bone for the most part; where they couldn't [the Branch-People that is]. Furthermore, I did not have heavy brawn bridges akin to the Branch-People; rather I looked more reminiscent of a specimen from the succeeding stage of human evolution, again possibly Homo habilis, or the next stage. In any event, I ran around naked, with no smugness about doing so, nor did my Horde feel any different in their nakedness. I never knew what cloths was until I had seen the 'People of the Fire,' wearing them, and the new breed, whom was to appear on the horizon.

Ways of the Groups

These people, the People of the Fire, lived in a community setting, and had skins covering parts of their body; I often wondered why, seeing as they had the gift of heat from the monster-fire [s] they'd build: of which they created each evening. But they did. However, as time would go on, this would become clearer to me, yet prior to the advent of seeing Eve; it was most oblivious to me.

We ate mostly the things the People of the Fire ate, and even some of the greenery and fruits the Branch-People ate. For the most part, on the side of the People of the Fire, we ate fish [cod, etc], reptile, and mammal [shrew], wolf and boar meat at times: when available; --along with dog and sometimes rats. We ate everything raw, but the People of the Fire, let the meat burn until it looked savagely discolored with a brown, and crust covering over it. I and Little-eyes, my friend and sidekick, would watch them as they ate [Little-eyes, my associate, if you will]; we hid in the thick of the forest, among its branches high up in the haughty trees, during the many nights as they ate. Someday I'd try that I told myself, just for curiosity sake, that is, cook the meat, but no sooner had I said that, I forgot I had the idea to do this, and even though I may have thought it again, I never did try to cook meat, no, not in my entire whole life. I think the body gets accustomed to certain things, and so it was as it was, left in a vault in the back of my mind, only to be brought back into focus when triggered by some future need or necessary.

[Short-legs--speaks] Sometimes they did odd looking movements, someone called it 'donsing,' or 'dancing.' Whichever it was, with their hitting of hands, and the skins of animals tightened onto wooden drums, it all made quite a spectacle while they did this dance around the fire, the thumping of the drums made my mind and blood boil, I wanted to join them, run and go mad almost with them, mad like them. Sometimes when I was alone ('I never told Little-eyes this for surely he'd not believe it if he had never seen it for himself ((and in consequence, he had not seen it...')) I had seen that they even ate their own kind--but they just never did it when Little-eyes and I were together. In the cooling season, the warmth of the burning trees below, would descend up into the branches, and warm me up, I'd even fall to sleep now and then, but I knew it was dangerous to do so: should I fall out of the tree, or off of a branch into their capture, I could very well be their next meal, who would miss me, no one I fear, well, not quite, my mother and brother would. Or for that matter, should a tree snake come up and swallow me whole, oh yes, swallow me whole, they were that big, they could digest me in a moment's time. All such things crossed my mind, so I'd never slept unless Little-eyes was with me, and then I could sleep, and I never tumbled from my sleep with Little-eyes watching me, and he'd stay awake watching to insure I kept my balance on the branches--be it all night or day. This really was an endless show, I could watch them day and night--every day and night, had I not anything else to do with my existence--that is.

The Begetter

With a Jaguar's eye,

And a Hawks air

He created terror

The Begetter's Dance
[Short-legs and Little-eyes--observing]

[The Dreamer] In my dream I noticed the one I refer to as The Begetter [for lack of a better name] had no love in him--only terror, he was a fighter, killer, antagonist, the beast of the group I'd say. The tribe called, 'The People of the Fire'-- somewhat worshiped him, with his big beefy-eyes, lowering eyebrows, flat nosed, thick lipped, heavy jawed, no neck to speak of, short arms, long mid section, curly-long hair freak; his movements were liken to a banshee; his spine was like the alligators, he was all that and more, much more, much more to his unshapely body than words can describe, with unbridled equanimity: a calm that very few can have one minute, and latch out the next--thus changing his composure at will to satisfy his desire in creating in his followers the exact behavior he wanted; like that of a jaguar's he presented himself to his followers, sly and shifting, apprehensive and still.

Little-eyes whispered to me [Me being, Short-legs] in the height of the tree over looking the Begetter as he stomped his feet into the sand, like a bull ready to charge, stopped next to the fire, reading himself for the: Begetter's Dance, a dance to incite his people, a dance he did often so they'd whispered him.

"Short-legs, he is a real savage, he scares me somewhat," said I inside of my mind-eye, he is surely full of destructive chemistry. Yes, I knew Little-eyes was a bit frightened of this specific character, it was evident, also apparent was--the tribesmen--that stood around him, as the blazing fire tried to reach the heavens, and he and his body seemingly separated but not really: his spirit and his body that is, shook as he dances around the encircled fire--even scared them, his followers, their faces were distraught. The drums and-dancing continued with heavy voices of cheers from the tribesmen and women, people which favored him, or pretended to.

[The Dreamer] Instinctively [within my dream], I disliked him for some reason, as he twisted about the fire like a snake around a tree, restless with his naked women standing by, off to the side of all the men, awaiting his command, then I thought as I, Short-legs, if this was not so scornful, I would call it delicious sin, but as I looked on I knew, for every laughter within that group, there would be a death. And here, I continued to look, to and fro, 'twas, a sight to see--for anyone to see, the nakedness of the dancer, the Begetter himself, pulling onto youthful men, as others watching him dance, boys ready to please this godlike figure: to tame his lust, it could not be overlooked [I actually wanted to get out of the dream, or race ahead of it, to get done with this part, but I feared I'd dissolve the whole of it, the dream should I interfere, and so I did not].

With malignant eyes, the Begetter looked right up into the tree where I was, I, yes me, Short-legs was in it, right into my eyes, or so I thought, or so it seemed, yet he didn't see us--although with a mild gaze I returned his look, and I did grow serious at its possibility. I wondered if he thought we might be some bears, big snakes, or birds, or whatever lurking about the branches, which often they do. Maybe nothing, maybe he thought nothing and just looked up. We had only made a little noise, the shifting of a few leaves that floated to the surface, as to lie down on other dying leaves.

The Drums and the Fire

Little-eyes had only seen the Begetter's dance once, I had seen it many times, along with the fire and drums, set the mood of the tribe, as he sought it to be; hence, all the tribe's men joined in the dance now, as wild creatures of the jungle. The young-boys, and the Begetter danced around the fire with painted rumps, in circles they'd go, as the older folk followed behind, three layers of creatures danced like savages in a circle, whispering, chanting as if there was a spirit they wanted to please. As if the Begetter was a god himself.

Said Little-eyes, to me:

"All seem to have their inventive tools in hand, look, O Short-legs, look..." and he pointed to the men clawing in spastic movements at one another like tigers, like tigers clawing at the limbs of one another, as they danced, as the thick of the night covered our identity high up in this tree. They clawed, danced, sang, and beat the drums, and blew the horns. If anything, it was seductive music, out of kilter; some of sounds were so loud, they seemed to ascend to the moon and cause an eclipse.

Reverberate, echoed the shaman, the Begetter, naked as a sparrow: his many sounds to his danced: says Little-eyes to me:

"He makes the women into animals of un-thinking love." [It was his way of saying, the Begetter made the women into whores, and he did, and there was no love in the dance of the Begetter, not for them--love was reversed.]

[The Dreamer] The empire outside this tribe--the jungle empire that is, was awoken by this tribes dominating madness: thus, they awoke, the creepers of the earth, the jungle rodents, beasts, snakes and tarantulas, all creeping up to the edge of the camp, looking, sensing, knowing they'd be coked out of life by these pale eyes that circled the fire, sooner or later, coked like the shadow that fades into nowhere. And they continued to dance the night away, inciting themselves unto exhaustion; their skin became fragmented with shades of different colors, reds and brushed colors, pale colors. And the women were raped--in the sense of being taken at will, without protest, and without liberty, as were the boys, as were some sacrificed to calm the hot blood of the Begetter's dance, and the hot blood of the skilled bowmen, the warriors of the group.

As the blackest rhythms of mankind's drums faded into sleep, Short-legs and Little-eyes, knew the night was ending, and it was safe now to go home. And so slowly they climbed down the tree to make their way back, as the fire became ash, and the tribes folks were fast asleep, and the creatures of the jungle had left to join their families as well; --therefore, pacing the jungle's paths back to the Valley of the Caves.

Little-eyes
[Short-legs' sidekick]

We even watched them [them being: the Fire People] one day capture bison, they chased them over a cliff, and when they landed [the bison, that is]--some on their foreheads, others on their sides, front legs, still others on their feet, and yet others tripping over others, and forming little mounds of crippled bison--they, they were in some kind of fixture, they called it a 'fence,' or 'corral,' I simply knew it as an enclosure of sorts, as my cave is, but this was open to the sky, whereas my cave of course is not -anyhow, they could not get out, again. Now that I think about it, think hard: I knew it was called a 'fence' for I heard them say so, and I heard them say this more than once, hence I can remember things, some things that is, for the most part, when they, or when it is repeated in succession, as they often did, and did in this one situation; I just couldn't put two and two together on how to pronounce it, the sounds that is. It was amazing, this fence-corral, type object; I must have gawked at it for the longest time, hours I bet. I had never seen the likes of it before. It was shocking, watching those beasts try to get out and hopelessly pinned in; it even occurred to me: how would they like this reversed? -that is to say, for the Stone-People to corral them in. Something resembling that will come next I'm sure, somewhere down the line.

These folk [or so called people] had bows and arrows, again, just a name to me, but they killed and wounded those who got struck with them, much like our carved rocks when we threw these items at them, or sometimes lunged at them with the longer sharpened rocks; that leads me to say they also had long wooden spears with stones in the ends of them, and clubs. We had not yet fastened the ends of rocks onto branches but it was coming to mind to do so, it looked promising, and possibly could become a custom in due time. I had not seen how they did it, but it could be learned I suppose--they learned it, I had told myself, why not me? It looked as if they tied some kind of cord, perhaps from the trees, or animal skins to hold the sharpened rock in place, and split the long-branch they called a spear. Furthermore, we only had small clubs, a sharp bone to protect us with: a tooth or if lucky a horn from an animal; and the Branch-People had even less, sometimes only stones, and nothing more than branches I guess, but they had Gigantic-a, or as we called him, Big-chest, their leader, although, there really was no leaders in our Horde or their group to speak of; on the other hand, I would not say this, or imply this if Big-chest was standing a foot from me.

2

Ancient Language

It might be fair to say, when I had first seen the couple, the two people of the Garden I referred to before, Short-legs, [me, in my dream] they were being escorted out of the Garden and a trifle sad looking at that. Thence, a huge angelic being, creature was behind them with some kind of flaming weapon, the likes of something I've never seen before. It was all too incredible to put into words, but my mind, my brain was awestruck at the sight, as was Little-eyes also astounded; I moved the greenery away from me to get a better look [hiding within a cluster of branches], a few branches hitting over my head as I moved about, was a bit unnerving, but I remained calm; I couldn't believe all this, all that was taking place, happening. Here we were and here we must remain, for the time being, --I told myself if I lived one-thousand years I'd never figure this ominous day out; --yet, on the other hand maybe this all was a warning for some future preparation. By and by, we kept watching these two people, akin to, two fish poking their heads out of the water we were, Little-eyes and I that is, yes, O yes, we were poking our heads out from among the leafy foliage and branches to get a better look

Eve's Physical Identity

As I Short-legs observed Eve, she had many facial contours showing, and good skin texture, full range of tones to it, rich in quality; she was nude, or one might say almost nude, like us, but unlike us, she was trying to hide it seemed, hide the space between her legs--for some reason unknown to us: us being Little-eyes and me. Her breasts were fully exposed as was her ribcage. I could see the curves of her back; the light on her was diffused with pleasing shadows. Her skin was much smother than ours; I tightened my mouth, thinking of her smooth skin against the sharp-spiky tall grass ripping the skin open as she left the garden, and the soft sand she was walking in--sinking sometimes in, and the sunlight acutely angled, creating a grave and peaceful mood-yet an intense texture. I could have been tempted to cover her up with one of the 'People of the Fire's garments,' had I had one.

As the sun came out a little more onto Eve, hard edged shadows were created by the directional sunlight, and presented strong shadows in her background; these presented images that were at its peak, she was a beautiful creature, maybe that is what females are suppose to be I told myself. Stern-toes would have liked to have seen this, with his automatic image-maker in his head and eyes--he loved to take pictures, create images, put them on trees and walks and rocks, you name it, if he could make an imprint of it into something, he would.

Her eyes darted with rays of light; --to view her form, front or back, was in both cases remarkable beautiful; her breasts were a perfect form [I must get off them breasts]: bronze and firm; her eyebrows were black-jet that curved with luster.

I would find out in later years, as I grew to more maturity, that their God, idol, spirit, a supreme being of some kind, invisible I guess, had intentions of starting a race or new species,--in lack of a better term, I differ to say, who was who in those far off days, a different variety of animal called human-beings is what it turned out to be of course. I think we belonged to this species, indirectly anyway, and so I felt more and more as time went on--we just didn't belong completely, meaning full heartedly, yet I do believe we had or acquired a soul somewhere along this line of interbreeding, or time of change over; and along came better reasoning--for us, likely because of them and their God; to this new variety we learned and owe much; this new order of being, which was obvious, had also an insidious dark side to their soul, one we never had I believe--akin to the Fire People, or worse; and this would also be part of our learning process, and adaptation. Maybe our brains in the Horde needed the capacity to mature, grow bigger, and in time it would, I sensed this the day I saw the Eve woman, yes, I sensed this was a day of euphony, but I could be mistaken.


After Eve (Part Two: Chapter one and two) Description & Ancient Language

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Monday, December 26, 2011

Haiku - A Collection

!±8± Haiku - A Collection

1

Love tickles

with erect pistil:

hibiscus

2

Oleander and

hibiscus blaze with passion--

making love in sun

3

Suspended

on the spider's web--

a hibiscus

4

Narrowly escape

the midair web of spider

perched on hibiscus

5

The lone hibiscus

waits for the sun to bloom:

morning's first offering

6

Red oleander and

hibiscus calling morning

to Kali

7

Without washing hands

he touches hibiscus for worship:

her frowning glance

8

After little rain

lilies smile with hibiscus--

the sun in May

9

Too short

can't reach the height:

hibiscus

10

To reach the branch

raising her other arm--

twisted hibiscus

11

Chrysanthemum

on the mossy roof

deeply rooted

12

Too big for its web

between two roses--

a yellow spider

13

In their webs

spiders racing to spin

their meatless prey

14

Around falling leaves

a lone dreaming flower--

mid-February

15

Stands alone in

the assembly of flowers--

Valentine's Day

16

Not sad to die

blooming after a day's rain--

the mushroom

17

Fresh mushrooms

hidden in decaying leaves:

missing the season

18

Shrouded in fog

the lone pomegranate

in the courtyard

19

Lying in the dust

a guava bitten off

by the parrots

20

Pausing between bites

on the guava tree

the parrots

21

Ravined inner shell

of the walnut--

his face

22

Her shapely figure

in orange blouse and blue jeans

strained at the hips

23

Taking a nap

on oranges in his shop--

a fruit vendor

24

He stands before

the nude Venus awaiting

her gown to drop

25

Diving in the sky

apsaras on the stone caves--

God-touch in motion

26

December morning--

the first roses in the lawn:

fragrance in passing

27

Leaves sway

to fly like birds

free in the sky

28

Waving down

a leaf settles between

her breasts

29

Veiling her breasts

with the season's first snows--

the hill blushes

30

All night trees wave

with roaring winds:

autumn in the courtyard

31

The autumn flame

infects his reverie:

panic in the leaves

32

Raising her saree

above the thighs bends to ease

and blocks my way

33

Rising early

to make tea for everyone

the newly wed wife

34

Mouth opened

to lick her ice cream--

brown tongue

36

Dissatisfied with

each other the two of us

in an empty house

37

In the grey of dusk

sway between hope and despair

their dream promises

38

Leaning sideways

she looks at mango pickle--

caries ache

39

Basking in the sun

files nails in garden chair

my wife's friend

40

No joy in lighting

the candles this Diwali:

both the children away

41

Awaits his son's

phone call from the border:

dogs and cats wail

42

His son's voice

not relayed by wire:

tense borders

43

His first winter

inside a fibre-hut

swirl of snowflakes

44

With sweated smile

stands behind the broken fence

his aged father

45

Not age but

years of worries

his furrowed face

46

Shadow of age

on the wall--

second full moon

47

Whiteness of the moon

and rocks howl with the wind--

December in the veins

48

A star shines bright

beside the crescent moon

she fakes a smile

49

A crescent

in the western horizon--

missing the moon

50

A thin fog

hides the wintry moon

rising slowly

51

The half moon

on her neck reminds of love

before departure

52

Enveloping

all of the moon at night--

white chrysanthemum

53

The sky couldn't retain

all of the moon now enveloping

my house through windows

54

Setting moon

leaves behind sparkle

on the waves

55

Noisy birds

don't let me sleep:

midnight moon

56

Through the window

gaze at the moon hid behind

cloud after cloud

57

Fearing allergies

he misses full moon party

savours white light

58

Wet bodies

of bathing women:

full moon night

59

Squeaking

under the blue moon--

the dry sky

60

They all look for

a little more moon coming

back from movie

61

Standing behind

the window bars observes

darkness in shapes

62

Unmoved by the wind

he sits on a rock wearing

peace of the lake

63

Night bombing

leaves the garden

white as death

64

An A-bomb victim

from behind the window bars

bowing to the sun

65

Vultures waiting

for the leftovers

of the sacrifice

66

In the ruins

searching her photo:

evening

67

Alone

on her bed rings

the cell phone

68

A dead voice

calling up at dawn:

drowsy eyes

69

Waiting for the train

alone on the platform

swatting mosquitoes

70

Without humming

mosquitoes alight and bite--

all night awake

71

The lone poet

watching his interview--

two minutes fame

72

Night's rumblings

prayers add wings to breezes

morning's serene calm

73

Meditating

in the morning sun--

his long shadow

74

Unmindful

of the body's joy--

the ascetic

75

A young couple

under the red umbrella

rejoicing privacy

76

Awaking

before the climax

the other woman

77

Between virgin curves

he deep-breathes evening mist

rests in the hollow

78

Shell-shocked or frozen

he stands in tears on hill top

craving nirvana

79

The lone mushroom--

a pregnant woman

stares out of the window

80

Facing the sun

the lone flower

dying to bloom

81

A dead leaf hangs

by a spider's thread

invisible in sun

82

Under the tree

in meditation sunken

a lone stone

83

So many headlights

and my myopic vision--

walking difficult

84

Setting ablaze

Muslim houses and children

seekers of Ram

85

White-yellow trail

the Mirage on mission:

ten souls buried

86

Amidst roaring guns

clouds blossom snow lotus:

light hilly terrain

87

On the margin of

home-to-work-to-home routine--

life's achievements

88

Shivering in the cold

young boys sell balloons late night--

New Year revelers

89

Half-fleshed faces

track from behind the windows

rawness of journey

90

Journeying tries

to raise his silence

to prayer

91

Never enough

the earth's hunger for graves:

peace barricaded

92

The red light is on:

they all have secrets to hide

no use peeping in

93

Disposable blades

one over the other--

dusty switchboard

94

Seismic lab

a network of cobweb:

no earthquake for long

95

No Zen thought--

scribbling haiku with

gun in hand

96

With her breasts bobbing

up and down she challenges

the moon as she walks

97

Sees the eyes

in walls as I rise

to kiss her

98

Drowned

in empty whiteness:

love

99

Wiping tears

from each other's eyes

two souls in love

100

Writing with strands of

watery hair on her back

a love haiku

101

Shedding bitterness

of the tiff in sex act

she and I

102

Moist lips parting

on a tea cup promising

expectation

103

Tastier my tea

with her one sip--

I keep the cup

104

Bending down to pick up

apple she presses

piercing embrace

105

Looking lovingly

she bends his head down to hers

twines like a creeper

106

She preys the body

behind obsidian sheath

fatuous flap

107

After burns

leaving the body

the dead skin

108

Rain-soaked sun

sheds its sultry light:

her bare back

109

Crouching out of the bath

with hand on the genital

his new tenant

110

A pregnant woman

bending over the mushroom

bloomed under a tree

111

Awaits the bloom

of love in her womb:

silent action

112

Lovely with hope

the glow in her eyes:

no need of sun

113

Her body--

the night's perfection

in dim light

114

Seeing her

a liquid sensation

between the thighs

115

On a canvas

a poet in twilight

painting her skin

116

Sensing her presence

he stares down the street--

lingering perfume

117

A star in making--

but an island appears:

the palm amuses

118

Sipping gin with lime

he says he loves sex each night

but hates the smell

119

Looking for Taj in grains

through sand-storm find history

trapped between toes

120

Bleeding fingers draw

new domes of betrayal in

windy matrices

121

He walks down the aisle

looking for the nave in her

to kneel and slide out

122

His tongue

between the teeth--

sudden sneeze

123

Fed up with my sex

she threatens to move

to our daughter's room

124

Leaves him alone

to escape daily rape

in bed his wife

125

The bedroom altar

no substitute for temple--

sacrifice of sex

126

Winter's chill--

sweating under the gown

her thighs and breasts

127

Scanning

her stooping breasts--

the first night

128

Measuring life with

ejaculatory rhythm--

envies sparrow sports

129

Her thighs--

resting place for my head

on bed

130

Trying to decipher

the complex curves on my palms

in the morning rays

131

Fondling her breasts

I incite a poem

on her body

132

A film of mist

between my eyes

and her image

133

Locked in her eyes

the bright glow

of the goddess

134

Melting in

the colour of the heart

the sun in the west

135

A lizard shrieks

before the climax:

love making

136

The blood passes through

green veins I hear the heart play

melody of dews

137

Every breath

love in action--

fire in the hole

138

No bottom reader

but the shape and the lines do tell

she can stir the soul

139

The aching limbs and

blood dripping between the legs:

love-making postponed

140

With his head between

the knees he squats and smells

the body's sweat

141

Bones rattle to make

a song of flesh in the night---

togetherness

142

Insomnia

blaming her

not old age

143

Lies with her

in freezing cold:

an empty tube

144

Invisible

jangles odours presences--

twinges in bed

145

Drying on the line

pork venison and beef--

the room smells their vests

146

Don't know their tongue--

the stars beyond the mountains

whisper among themselves

147

While I lie alone

shapeless fears rest on my eyes

heavier than time

148

Searching salvation

a moth flies into the lamp:

oily burial

149

Colours sparkle in

the morning's dew on the blooms--

my breathing changes

150

Nobody cares

burial of my dreams

in coal dust

151

Besides allergies

so many other complaints:

sudden weather change

152

Bronchial breathing--

the only sound audible

in the soulless space

153

Noisy birds

don't let me sleep:

midnight moon

154

Sparrows couple

on a withered creeper--

peep of day

155

He sweeps yellow leaves

or gathers years in a heap

burns to merge with dust

156

Cleaning dusts from

the old sandals for a walk:

again the same pain

157

Peeling paint

from the drawing room--

shaows flicker

158

Seeing no image

in the mirror of time--

foggy blankness

159

Hot bath or no bath--

the cough persists unmindful

of the New Year's eve

160

Sees in a flash--

opening the eyes

takes a long time

161

Linked with anxiety

my comfort at his home:

Ph.D. viva

162

Fear of forgetting--

car insurance premium

paid a month ahead

163

Fears the approach

of night with him--

twisting tassels

164

In the lone room

prefers haiku to yoga

drinking scotch

165

My bedroom

a maze of cobweb

spiders breed

166

Sunday afternoon--

waving into gin

two drops of lime

167

Difficult to change

I am what I have disowned--

dressing down salads

168

The bed is short

and the covering shorter--

crouching alone

169

Unruffled

by passions and clamours--

Buddha's calm

170

Seeks Buddha's stone bowl

to win the bamboo princess:

she dwells on moon beams

171

Her heart

a thousand doors of

oneness

172

Standing behind

the window bars observes

darkness in shapes

173

Disappears

into dust her last

photograph

174

Trying to read good news

I look at the lines taking

new turns on my palms

175

Looking for riches

in her left hand shortening

days on the pavement

176

They sculpture psyche

in the city of dumb dreams:

idols sweat in sun

177

Pulling out white hairs

she reminds increasing age:

time's fragrance unchanged

178

Still a child--

embracing a breast

sleeps her man

179

Exchanging

anger with roses:

petals fall

180

They all walk

like shadows in night

for themselves

181

Lying on his table

a few unanswered letters

and unrealized dreams

182

A little child

chases the painted dreams

on butterfly wings

183

Two butterflies

racing with each other

perch on the wire

184

A child's fingers feel

the butterfly lying

one with yellow leaves

185

Sudden rain drops wet

the wings of a butterfly

lying at the basil

186

Lost my way again

asking for direction:

a pleasant change

187

Locked between the cracks

cockroaches in the alcove

dropping their eggs

188

Awaiting their turn

to feast on a dead dog

crows in a circle

189

A crow hits

the scare crow and cracks

its earthen head

190

A crow picking

at the ripe papaya and

another waiting

191

A yellow spider

on the blooming marigold

weaves tiny webs

192

Two lizards fight

to mate on the wall--

balancing act

193

Swiftly passes by

a yellow snake on the grass--

moistened trail of love

194

After the quake

a dog sniffing his master's

presence in the rubble

195

Searching Christ's sandals

in the pile of shoes at

the church's entrance

196

Traffic snails through

the water-logged road I feel

a manhole cover

197

Dust mites devouring

the secrets preserved

in my diary

198

Seeing my shadow

three fish in the pond look

for a safe corner

199

In the well

studying her image

a woman

200

A hooker hides

behind the green letter box:

looking for a client

201

Cut wrongly

each body a slave--

grey faces

202

Too heavy

these man-made machines

choking weight

203

Students murmuring

over the class test result:

the teacher's curved lips

204

In the moving train

sleeping on his feet

the newspaperman

205

Flowers inviting

seeds of love scattered in

the perfumed garden

206

Looking for a prey

a snake slides through the fence:

warmth of the sun

207

Safe from sun

under nascent leaf

a gold fish

208

After sleepless night

a drowsy sun tears

the morning sky

209

With sunrise

gone to sleep

the morning moon

210

Two dreamy eyes

await the rising sun

through the fogged window

211

A sweating sun

after the midnight chill--

changing hues of spring

212

The sun conceals

aeons of darkness planets

mirror in the sky

213

Closing its eyes

in the setting sun--

the Ganges in autumn

214

A cloud-eagle

curves to the haze

in the west

215

A butterfly rests

on the butterfly tattooed

on her sunning back

216

The sun not yet set

but the full moon rises

as if in a hurry

217

Setting sun

leaves behind sparkle

on the waves

218

Suddenly rise

the sleeping waves from far off--

'quake in the sea

219

Swollen sea

boiling over the head--

roars increase

220

The sun rolls

on the waving Ganges--

whitens love-hope

221

On the wave's crest

travels a fallen leaf--

rot on the bank

222

Couldn't erase the wind's

soliloquy from the waves

breaking on the shore

223

Traveling back

from the waves of bliss

a foam-leap

224

On the waves rise shells

in accents lie with love--

beauty on the shore

225

A lamp floating on

river breast in bridal grace--

waves in the gloaming

226

Bathing in thousands

they float lamps on her breast

the river sparkles

227

Knee-deep in the pond

standing obeisantly

nude worshipers

228

Ends with ritual

one more morning--

sun-worshipers in the pond

229

Awaits the sunrise

in the chilly Ganges

a nude worshiper

230

Sees visions

eating food of gods--

mushroom

231

Fills the void

with illusions and self--

names them god

232

December almost

over what new wish to add

to Christmas wish list

233

On Christmas eve

santa claus takes leave--

mist on chairs in pairs

234

Standing

between flowers

Jesus on the cross

235

Making holes

in the wooden cross

white ants

236

Colours of envy

stick on their colleagues' faces:

Holi revelry

237

Krishna offering

parijata to Radha:

Narada looks on

238

The temple's dome

in the flooded Ganga--

empty kalash

239

Fermenting spring

in the arms of lovers:

a secret sin

240

The cherry pink

in the spring--

a framed nude

241

Embrace

suffocates in bed--

chill seeps through slit

242

Wintry chill--

enters the cold bed:

skips morning walk

243

Winter allergies--

I stay inside to escape

the wind in full moon

244

The long night passes

sleeplessly I deep-breathe

the December chill

245

Alone and sleepless

count hours by asthmatic bouts--

the long winter nights

246

A part of the night

hidden in the morning moon:

the sun waves bye-bye

247

Nothing changes

the night's ugliness

in the lone bed

248

The first night

spots on the sheet:

clothes wake up

249

Long wintry night--

opening the mail box

for a date

250

Vulnerable

darkness of the opening:

standing erect

251

Whiteness of the moon

and rocks howl with the wind--

December in the veins

252

Seek my haven

where the sky arches the sea--

a white gull leads

253

Stars mock his drinking

alone on the cement bench:

moon in the glass

254

Spend our short time

together after a long

watching the moon

255

Enveloping

all of the moon at night--

white chrysanthemums

256

Seeking smell

in cactus flowers:

late monsoon

257

Awaiting rains

for the litchis to sweeten

in the dry backyard

258

Clouds don't rain

coldly come and go--

icy bed

259

All night rain

the gaping roof

her shelter

260

Sudden rain

on the way home--

a peacock

261

After the night's rain

the sky's still overcast:

wet Christmas today

262

Through thick clouds

sees an arc of moon--

her belly

263

Shadow of age

on the wall--

second full moon

264

Lonely nights and

days of non-stop rains--

depression mounts

265

Traveling

on the wings of winter

ill news

266

Celebrating

return of the light and warmth:

winter solstice

267

Feels the shadow

with wet fingers

in the fog

268

Mist surrounds:

the steel statue watches

few visitors

269

Morning fog:

her face invisible

even the sun

270

The evening fog:

invisible her hand

on my shoulder

271

Slowly clears

the morning fog--

end of the year

272

Swollen fogs

ready to make way

for the sun

273

Her make-up spoilt

in the evening mist:

looking for light

274

After dust storm rain

alloy with cool colours:

rainbow in the west

275

Splendid with the moon

night in silver peace dreams

through folds of light

276

Sees beard

shining in the mirror:

morning on the face

277

In a flash

trapping eternity--

the camera

278

Post-lunch solitude

filled with thoughts that couldn't become

even a haiku

279

The first night:

spots on the sheet:

clothes wake up

280

A sly lover

ejaculates poison--

sting operation

281

With glittering diamond

on the navel swinging

an item bomb

282

The phone rings:

in the middle he rises--

prayers unsaid

283

With a telescope

view the lunar eclipse--

midnight shadows

284

Out of wood and stone

he carves his vision of peace:

night's secret visage

285

In the ruins

searching her photo:

evening

286

Suffer animals

with a peculiar smeel:

men in white khadi

287

Crossing the shadows

in the Indo-Pak match--

the last ball

288

Drunken with force

spreading the century's sore:

nine eleven

289

Freedom to kill

with faith in divine regime:

terrorist's peace

290

Watches the snow rain

with finger on the trigger:

insurgence in Drass

291

Reaching nowhere--

ideas flying from the minds

of top echelons

292

Himself doesn't

listen but teaches

communication

293

Her anger shifts

from manure to cellphone:

10 o' clock soap

294

Winking at her

in the dark--

power cut

295

Two peacocks

on a dancing spree:

see water

296

Dancing

a few muddied crocs:

the river returns

297

Nibbling a leaf

between her fingers

a dragon-fly

298

A small frog

leaping on my hand

from the pothole

299

Birds crouch in nests

along the snow-clad path--

wheezing silence

300

Away from home--

smell of frying fish

in the air

301

Swimming afresh

in the glass box

two gold fish

302

Peace in silence

of the heart and body's cells:

Buddha's calm

303

Weaving its nest

Grass blade by grass blade

R.K.Singh

304

Sad and dull

his backyard poultry--

fears of bird flu

305

Mooching about

a rose petal in the sun--

a butterfly

306

An orgasmic view

from behind the car's window

the Taj Mahal

307

Perches nervously

on the fence a squirrel

nibbling its luck

308

Puppies groping

for the tits of our doggy

relaxing in sun

Copyright: R.K.Singh


Haiku - A Collection

Keen Naples Sandals Review

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

virtual fence dog containtement

www.inovago.com The Virtual Fence system uses harmless spray technology, rather than painful shock. Almost all animal experts disapprove of shock because of the negative effects that it can cause On dogs with a low tolerance for pain it is cruel, harmful and abusive, and can cause long term side effects such as fearfulness.

Brand New Apple Ibookstore


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