Above the Earth’s Green

a poem by Singh R K Dr

The menopausal man
doesn’t know whether
it is love or
pressure of the groin

he preaches
searching for frolic
as another shield

Age shakes confidence
in sex he wonders is urge
to penetrate all

or undoing of
single man in aloneness
unmask tyranny

I am a stranger
to things so familiar:

the city stares
my identity and asks
why the sun rose through
enamel stripping traffic
while dusty pavements
croon new tunes against shadows
orchestrating fears
cries and griefs few bother
for convenience stay
unredeeming or

I am no heir
to their kindness
nor can live their faith
through cracks skillfully made
for immortality

they may know me well
when the sky clears
after the rains

A woman
in poet’s vision
howsoever strange
is ever new:

pierce like diamond
or thread like pearl
to weld in her depth
her nudity

I love for
all her mystery
perfect poetry
beyond the sky

The sun couldn’t help
nor fish protest:
river has no sex
so it dried up
trapped in its own banks

Philosophy frightens me
confounds obscurity
with profundity:

asking north of the North Pole
or time before Big Bang
is absurd to me

I don’t reflect time and space
or probe metaphysics
to construct Everest

I love to climb the peak and
search the best route without
high-minded debate

that affront simplicity
symmetry, nudity
a poet’s beauty

Her wet lingerie reveals
more than her body:
I drown in her sea

Let’s know
dirty water
kills everyone no need
to blame only her if he too
is wrong

When she stretches her legs for me
to shave the pubic hair we hit
the hay together remembering
the first night I gave her nothing
in my hurry to see her nude

How much I cared for tomorrow
saving suffering spoiling today
cursing the sky and wrinkles that
remind how the rains have hollowed
my dreams this morning a-sneezing
I fear again I can’t rejoice
the flash of rainbow caress sleep
flowers butterflies or glow-worms
monsoon dampens walls and spirit
without reprieve it drips from cracks
life’s helplessness prolongs lies in
foppish designs and burnished wings

Drugs don’t diagnose so
let’s kiss our sneezes
into each other and stop
worrying about repression
necessary or surplus

Environmentalists nude
protest over ‘US talks
US profits’

camouflage love:
food for eyes like good weed they
collapse on body’s delta

She’s still rolling but
yield is poor I can’t invest-
her low love sensex

Except the naked
no one talks about cold wind
whisper through window
skin-to-skin with chill echoes
burial in icy bed

There is a bay in
each of us depression mounts
to cause hurricane

crumbling caged life and
its traps submerged in rising
water and wind wipes

pressure in silence
unweave years of network
roots of up-turned faces.