Wednesday, February 13, 2013

ROSE

a fading rose
lies with weeds between stones--
valentine day

--R.K.Singh

Tuesday, February 12, 2013

GRAPES

nipple-black
two juicy grapes
between her fingers

--R K Singh

Poems from SenSexual: A Unique Anthology, Vol.I

Backstory: In the subjective process of creation, human body is a picture of the
human soul I celebrate to understand the world and the self. And, it is normal for a poet
to create out of himself or herself: whatever outside they see excites the inner vision. I
see sex as truth, rendering the experience with beauty and power. Making poetry sexy is
focusing on the flesh to enter the spirit. My erotic haiku also seek to explore the body, or
naked physicality, leading to love of the spirit, or man and woman as one in coitus. The
fleshly unity is the reality, the passage to experience divinity.

In fact there is so much lived and observed in one’s sexual life but hardly fully
expressed. My deep interest in erotic poetry often makes me compose “erotiku” that
happen, as you rightly say, “to relive a thought,” or re-enact sex acts, or re-create a felt or
lived experience of a moment. Haiku offers a good medium to express love and sex
subtly as well as explicitly, yet leaving lots of room for the reader’s imagination.

I consider the expression of passionate sex in my poetry as the internalized substitute
or antidote to the fast dehumanizing existence without, and ever in conflict with my
search for life, search for meaning in a sort of routinized, boring existence. By writing
brief personal lyrics, including tanka and haiku, or confining myself to the privacy of
lovemaking, I make my life itself a work of art, and enlarge myself to the universal
sameness of human feelings.

I see woman, and her nudity, as the mainspring of our being (and art), shaping the
psyche and constituting the sensory experience. She is eternal and there is no poetry
without her. I sing of woman who is both my passion and interest, who is the balance
point of various beings, the very cause and end of life, perhaps the means to rediscover
the original magic of life.

From My Silence: 1974-1984

25.
Every sleeping guy
gets up
at the last kick
of a waking tart

From The River Returns: Tanka

44.
The thought is sin
she thinks and denies me sex
to protest against
my mind in the gutter
that breeds erotics in verse

156.
It’s not ageing
but eternal delight:
you under me
smooth belly nude necking
slow stroking parting flesh

Published in SenSexual: A Unique Anthology , Vol.I (ed: Susana Mayer), USA: Sensexual Press, 2013
(www.sensexualpress.com)