Total Visitors

Creation and Criticism

ISSN: 2455-9687  

(A Quarterly International Peer-reviewed Refereed e-Journal

Devoted to English Language and Literature)

Vol. 05, Joint Issue 16 & 17 : Jan-April 2020


Silence: A White Distrust — R K Singh

R K Singh (1950), recently retired as Professor (HAG) from Indian School of Mines (now IIT), Dhanbad, has authored more than 160 research articles and 175 book reviews. He has published 46 books, including:  Savitri: A Spiritual Epic (Criticism, 1984); My Silence (poems, 1985); My Silence and Other Selected Poems : 1974-1994 (poems, 1996);  Above the Earth’s Green (poems, 1997);Every Stone Drop Pebble (haiku, 1999); Cover to Cover (poems, 2002); Pacem in Terris ( haiku, English and Italian, 2003); Communication : Grammar and Composition (textbook, 2003); Sri Aurobindo’s Savitri: Essays on Love, Life and Death (2005); Teaching English for Specific Purposes: An Evolving Experience (2005); Voices of the Present: Critical Essays on Some Indian English Poets (2006); The River Returns (tanka and haiku collection, 2006); Sexless Solitude and Other Poems (2009); Sense and Silence: Collected Poems (2010);  New and Selected Poems Tanka and Haiku (2012);I Am No Jesus and Other Selected Poems, Tanka and Haiku (2014), and You Can’t Scent Me and Other Selected Poems (2016), etc. He resides at J/4 (W), Rd. No.1/Block B, Vastu Vihar Colony, N H 2, Govindpur -828109 (Dhanbad), Jharkhand and can also be contacted at


Silence: A White Distrust 


(An experimental long poem in haiku and tanka sequence)


ever evading

happiness for the now—

unfinished song 



this November night

livelier with stars

and breathing silence

perfumed with night queen


still lingers

her scent on the linens

drying in shade


half painting

palette and easel

collect dust

in the studio

painted silence of mother


lemon tea—

shade of her lipstick

on my lip


last night’s rain

paves way for a clear sky

this morning

the breeze is cool and the sun

adds a new hue to the spring


filling emptiness

waves dance over each other—

the sky meets the sea


life is beautiful

when you enter another


and become one

in each other


closed eyes:

smelling the cleavage

crescent wanes


her name

a soothing music

in the mouth:

I forget the pain in back

I seek the sky in silence


unzipping her back—

hundreds of nights grow wings

with wasp touch



the darkness of bedroom

a tree’s silhouette:

she whispers its masked presence

and says no to making love


brightness of the star

half-closed bedroom window:

moon shies away


waking to a morning

tainted with prayers

on the toilet seat

nude nature waves a dull sun

smitten by the night’s long eclipse


moon energy

fills up the inner space—

call to wake up


the busyness

and weariness of now

they toss about

regulating their sleep

by one another’s


stain-dried lingerie

reminds of the night’s act—

flowers of lips


smallness of the small

no sharing half-chewed betel—

mischievous whisper

in bed fuzzy sensation

ruddy lips that’s no love 


muscle or meat

hang it on the forehead:

spine migrates


things get hairy, scary

with body failure

ailments pop up

spirit dries up

mind disconnects



to take the first step through—

stands at the door



with how I look and

feel right now

seek a best version

and just look within


silk silence

the sky measures

new cup of joy


in the white of night

sighs for supreme delight

steal tender pleasure

manipulating wetness

in bed unmask simple sin


greet the sun

on the terrace—

two roses


November morning--

too many thorns to reach

the only rose

and the tormenting thought

that I am forsaken


stunted bud

in the earthen pot—

winter sun


choking air

in a walled colony:

two tired pigeons

perch on overhead tank

whisper pity on us


a robin whispers

our talk in bed last night—

another bird


light switched off

love sliding on

window pane

moon too shies away

behind the bare tree


stolen truck

in parking lot:

they have a quickie



in the icy wind

my fingers

she fears the chill

on her cheeks



on a late-running train

squirrels frisk near track


if I die today

it won’t matter to any—

I have no worth

they all care for themselves

search nearest in curved space


repeats daily

in the mind my own story—

a feature film


a couple of drinks

and soft  music to forget

the year’s hard days

now welcome the new morning

bid good bye to factious party


darkness of the heart

bouts of quiet clashes:

midnight oracle


visit Vinayak

each day new prayers inside

years old faces

at the threshold hit their heads

the dumb deity stays unmoved


visiting home—

shadows of forgotten days

on the wall


spiders’ network

between two photo frames

bridge or bury

sensations no longer

spurt action in silence


on the terrace

facing the sun

an empty chair


black pigeons

sitting in a row


cracked for seeds to die

before they fly back 


cease growing

new lines on the palms:

broken bangles



I’m not alone

waking up in the grave—

angels await

my rise to eternity

my love’s union again


noise of crackers

monotony of light



4 a.m.

a noisy start to

Chhat puja:

blaring songs from neighbourhood

sweet smell of frying from kitchen


incense sticks

perfume the air around—

offering on altar


end of May—

scorching heat follows

rain and hail

before iftaar this Friday

prayer promises bliss


Easter Sunday—

blood stains stick on the cross

more bomb blasts


wearied winter

each night bed a living grave:

drying breathing passage

and lonely shadows

delaying disaster


dirt conscious

everyday struggle:

rising up


too small to explore

the sea of the unknown:

island existence

breathing hell of darkness

dreading hungry excursions


cleaning the remains

of burnt out earthen lamps—

dusky temple yard


source of salvation

depository of sins

no cake cutting

in church promise of reaping

if we sow recovery seed 


aching legs—

nightly tension crowns

moon sickness 


an island

between the head and fate lines

bridges blackhole

in life’s labyrinth shadows

move always ahead of me


after the discourse

beer and biryani in lunch—

Happy Drinksgiving


earthy body

and nightness of silence

fear in mirror

return to the river

echoing hollowed sound


long waiting

short consultation—



morning smog—

an asthmatic with grandson

coughing restlessly

on the terrace even

a limping crow seeks fresh air 


she stoops down

writes her name on the sand

waves return


dark alleys

chaos on the road

fear delays

homeward move at nine

lumpens lie in wait


in the street corner

breeding maggots and vermin:

abandoned father


the wounds exit

the pain of truth lingers

under my sky

savage head battles for

vacuity, a victim


sprinkling spices

on the fried fish

hungry hubby


full blue moon—

divine channel from heavens


arrival of Easter Sunday

and April, the angel month



microbes of her complaints

poor hubby 


before retiring

swallow pills to mitigate

her hackles

that walk me through to death

of desire for love in bed


pre-monsoon ramble

wilderness in harmony—

worlds within world


hail stones

lashing mango florets

my car too:

I fear thunder squall and rain

leaking roof and wetting bed


wild sugarcane

no animals savour

ageing monsoon


fishes swim

weeds disheveled

silent lake

I inhale

the city’s garbage



my watch not worn for days:



with foreign sound

I couldn’t be a lasting poem—

provisional body

nude smell and white distrust

play freedom in mounds of cloud



Creation and Criticism 0