Busiest But Backward

Busiest
But the most backward
Place is my neighborhood,
Seen very little change,
While, I have passed
From childhood to adult life,
Being a boy,
Collecting leaves for goat
And firewood to burn,
To a university don
And a non-stipendiary priest

Life begins here at dawn
When children and men
Occasionally, also a woman or two
Visit the leftover shrub
To free themselves of the previous day’s grub

This followed by the older folk
With un-fattened cows and slim goats
To graze the almost extinct grass
Then come those who catch fish
By stirring the stagnant pond
While the underfed stray dogs
Keep annoying the already frightened goats
Chained to their fixed posts

Towards the evening
But, only if there is no gun firing
The boys will be seen playing
Re-confirming, and re-confirming
The absence of my neighborhood’s matriarchy

Later as the sun sets
The younger from among the older
And sometimes, even
The elder from the older
Trickle towards this busy camp
For cheaper but illicit strong drink
Patronized by the state’s law enforcing machine

Busiest
But the most backward
Place is my neighborhood,
Seen very little change!

Henry Victor 24.08.1998

Heroic Compassion

Empower me
To release
My little self
To strive towards
And accomplish greater works
Compelling, if necessary,
My insignificant
Tiny being
To render for this world
And ungrudgingly
Do heroic services

Continuously
Cherish within
My little self
The desire
For supernormal
Range of human life
Performing courageously,
Even amidst
Self-seeking people,
Acts of
Adventurous heroic compassion

Henry Victor 13.01.1994

Priestly Prayer

O God
Make me not
A lazy sacrificial official
An avaricious dealer in magic sayings
A conceited worthless orator
A wicked sly priest
Or just a good stupid sheep amongst a large herd

O God
Make me a human who is
Strong minded
Imaginative
Level headed
Sympathetic
A human who knows his/her mind
And is not afraid to speak it

Henry Victor 19.08.1980

Lord Is My Shepherd

The Lord is my shepherd; my needs are numerous
He leads me in the dry desert land
When I am thirsty
He guides me to rivers that are deep and flooding

He expects me to be courageous
Among those who are callous and inhuman
He presumes that I walk in the paths of the just humans

When I walk through roads that are dangerous and dark
I am terrified of the evil humans and their structures
Because though He had promised to be with me, I never see his face

Lord, you have very often let me down in the presence of my enemies
And you have forgotten to anoint my head with oil

My cup is empty
Yet, I will follow you
And serve your people always

Henry Victor 18.01.1983

Tiger

Among all the animals I like tiger the best
She is ferocious
She is pretty
She is kind

In the forest the tiger is not the first in command
But she moves very swiftly
And perhaps she is the only animal
That can neither be tamed nor domesticated

Among all the animals I like tiger the best
She has the strength
She has the stripes
She has the will

In the forest the tiger is the most feared animal
For she pounces from afar
But never misses the target
For she has known that art from her childhood days

Among all the animals I like tiger the best
She is a symbol of self-determination
She is a symbol of resistance
She is a symbol of freedom

Henry Victor 29.07.1987

No Tears

Since all tears have been
Converted to thick ink
And I have been
Taught and trained by pen
None have I, to shed in vain

Furthermore, earlier, and even
Now, much of those tears have been
Expended for purifying my mind,
Heart and soul – no! My entire being
Teaching me the secrets of the unseen
And increasing my understanding of the seen

Those continuing tears eventually turn
To be the cement that holds my self
Together with those stray birds flying
With, already, broken wing,
The wretched of the earth

Henry Victor 04.02.1995

Folly

Folly is that which
fails to recognise your names
that others, joyfully give you
while I name you, the nameless

Deafness is that which
delights not, in praises to you sung by others
in Sanskrit, Pali and countless other languages
while I, in Greek and Latin, praise you, the ineffable

Blindness is that which
braves not, to discern your presence
in temples, mosques and shrines
while I, in Church, establish you, the boundless

Arrogance is that which
admits not the right of others
to follow, their chosen path
while you, always, remain the unfathomable

Henry Victor 22.12.1996

To Evelyn Menzies

Among your friends
I was the last to visit with you
My ignorance the prime cause for my delay
But soon your contact
Made such an impact
And I’m here this daybreak
With your other friends
Not merely to conceal
In earth your feeble frame
But to canonize
Your lasting personality
While what you left behind
In Barrhead Museum
Will surely bemuse many

Beauty was that you created
Much colorfully
Also artfully
With your flowers
In farm, outside
And in room, inside
Beauty was that you saw
In animals that crossed your way
And birds that flew to your window
Beauty was all that was in your soul
Beauty is all that you take to your eternity

Simplicity was the costume you wore
Humility was the path you walked
Eternity is the destination you reached
Until I see you in that eternity
Good-bye Evelyn
May your soul rest in peace
And let light perpetual shine upon you

Henry Victor 24.01.2003

Your Presence

It is your presence
That I seek beyond my thoughts
I acknowledge your being
But I struggle to connect with your becoming
That is part of my own biography
That in my pain I see your pain
And in my joys I enjoy your joys

I discern and discover your faint presence
Wrapped up tightly in my feeble presence
That is spat upon
And trampled under foot
Of that tall, stout, short, and slim
The so-called elected members
Of today’s Sanhedrin

I, now, wait for your risen presence
With patience and a new spirit of inquiry
That I may walk ahead
Beyond that Golgotha into Emmaus
To break bread with Jesus, the Nazarene
So my heart may glow and feel the warmth
And my tongue announce an awesome presence

Henry Victor 27.02.2008

Speechless

In your presence I’m speechless
My vocabulary is inadequate
To describe that which I see in you

My concepts of you falter to provide
A handle to deal with your splendid
Being, so huge, for my puny mind

Hence, I sit in silence
While my soul wonders and wanders
In yours, but trapped in that cage
That I have carefully built
For years fifty and more eight
Increasing my need to cling
To that which is inclinable

“Wretched man that I am!
Who will rescue me
From this body of death?”

Henry Victor 28.02.2008

merging

listening to the clicking of the clock

my mind comprehends life’s briefness

reminding me that as i pass week

month and year i’m closer to my grave

listening to the cawing of the crow

my body takes wings to fly to gather

without belittling the other gatherers

to fill belly that marches to my tomb

listening to cooing of the cuckoo

my being dances to unheard rhythm

merging into the world of dancers

until that final closing of the screen

henry victor 22.02.2003

My Salute to Jesus

I do not cry
Wail, weep, and lament
The poverty, misery, and humiliation
Suffered and endured
By Jesus of Nazareth
For he is not a weakling
Requiring my sigh
And stupid sympathy

Neither do I rejoice
In his crucifixion
On that Passover Day
Hoping his messy death
Will blot my sins away
Knowing too well
That true love
Never attempts to patronize

But I salute
His commitment to his vision
His courage to counter the cost
And his stance of nonconformity
At all times, including
To the point of his death
On the cruel cross
In the hill of scull

Henry Victor 04.01.2003

Deserted

Many times I have climbed that hill
On which is the House
Temple for Murugan, Tamil hill god!

Twice I observed
His seat he had deserted!

Once when two innocent lay dead
Like dead animals on wayside
After being shot and killed
In the name of national security

Next when my Toyota Liteace
Rolled back and hit the rut
Since the Sinhalese government’s intent
To genocide led the road to be neglected!

Henry Victor 19.10.2003

Feeling Your Feet!

As I stop to listen to the heartbeat
Of those I am expected to serve
And those connected to my life
Marked only by that simple fact –
Geographical accident –
While some may suggest
Transcendental incident –
I clearly fail to feel your feet!

Even as I habitually name you
In that absent presence
There are those who protest
And many more ignore
My naming that appears too comical!

Elsewhere, in my life, I see
Those who came to defeat me
Stand defeated
But I do not think victorious
In my mind that likes to shun pain
That can creep like a leech to suck
My blood until I fall dead
Hence I refuse to praise
You, considering that game silly!

So, I stand here early this dawn
Gazing at an empty sky
Grazing for a star, or a cloud pattern
In which I may sense you
That may lift my soul
And prompt my journey to continue
Until I fall dead
Or, cease to consume more emptiness!

Henry Victor 03.03.2008

Maturity

Three things I am inclined
To do:

Confirming green as beauty
Walking on path less traveled
And preventing ants striking
My mother’s feet

In these three I see
The secret of gods
My own maturity
That fruition
Prompting a continuity

Henry Victor 09.07.2008

Breathe Your Breath!

I pray you will breathe your breath
Into me to strengthen my mental agility
Even as I face my accusers
The bunch that has ganged together
To remove me from my present seat!

Since I have opted not to be dictated
Or, directed by any other than your spirit
That blows where it wills
Gathering the small, the wounded
Healing them to serve your cause
I am in that crowd that lacks
Worldly sophistication to manipulate
The forces that eventually write the right
And record the wrongs, changing events!

And since the meek look up to me to fight
The arrogant men and women of this world
I, in my helplessness, lift up my eyes to you!

Even as I turn to you for grace, my mind
Sways like a pendulum, this way
And that way, first to your power
That creates the cosmos, recreating colour
Morning and evening amusing my eyes
Then I, at once, wander into Golgotha
The place of mere skulls
To witness your powerlessness!

Nevertheless I choose your breath
That adds freshness to my soul
And freedom to my spirit
That refuses to bow down
To the insolent might

Henry Victor 21.02.2008

No Angels

I am fast learning
There are no angels
But only small devils
That I must be generous
To name as angels
And continue my journey
Acting always angelic
Disregarding that history
That lacks imagination
To create fresh facts
That carries the latest life
Demanding from me
A constant readjustment
In my perception
That writes my story
With full of angels

Henry Victor 09.07.2008

Grace Without Magic

My love for ease prevents
That release of the creative
Energy stored deep within my soul

My fear to take risk fails to kick
That engine that needs a kick-start
Leaving me in bed
To that comfort of that lie
That my body needs more sleep

I then turn to you for cheap grace
Believing the unbelievable
Until you kick me on my face
To pull myself together
And work hard for my release
Or to be damned in that relief
Of my own more sleep and slumber

Increase in me that knowledge
That with you there is no magic
Turning stones into bread
Or skipping consequences
Of my acts – good or bad
While I focus not
On the worth of wealth

Immerse me in that wisdom
That makes you to send the sun
Shine on both good and evil
And rain on wheat and weeds
Viewing wayside pampas grass
In the same way
As you glance at the oak

Henry Victor 08.02.2008

Miraculous Grace

This time in your grace I sense a miracle
Enabling me to confidently walk
Between the growling angry dogs prowling
To tare me to pieces with their ugly teeth

I felt cool on my head, concluding in my heart
That that was your anointing with oil
In the presence of my enemies
Confirming that I speak from above with a call

I now pray that you give me that word to heal
As I tell and live the story of your constant grace
To those that have been stalking with satanic force
To establish the dismantling of your servant-kingdom

Walk with me with your invisible presence
As I walk through Golgotha, the darkest valley
That I may eventually stroll beyond my soul’s death
Into green pastures and drink from still waters

Henry Victor 10.03.2008

A Handy Vessel

I am an agnostic, now not sure
Whether I am clay in your hand
That hand of the cosmic potter
Or, in the hand of a dung roller
The beetle that thrives in shit!

But I am certain of that pain
Caused by continuous hard spin
And thrashing with smashing
Turning those primal elements
Within my soul to bleed to death!

There is one thing that echoes
And keeps constantly re-echoing:
Before it is too long, and my eyes
Fade to perceive effects in light
Will I become a handy vessel?

Henry Victor 23.04.2008

slow me down

million thoughts pass
through my mortal mind
including one that analyses
the veracity of calculation

i sit helplessly while cells
in brain spin like a wheel
with no brakes to bring stop
or, at least, slow it down

hence, i turn to you
the source of all speed
and no haste in pace
to induce in me calm

lead me to the silent planet
that stores no fret nor carries fear
transform my wits to that of a bear
who knows the smart art to hibernate

henry victor 07.04.2008

The Source of Peace!

While driving back to Fairview
I was, very strangely, relaxed
I stopped a few times
Just to watch the sky
To enjoy the beauty
And to let the colours
Of the sky make imprints
On my mind while I also
Clicked a few digital prints

On quiet reflection
I saw the source of paint
With varied shades
As the rising sun
But an overcast, like
A dominating woman
Refusing joy to those around
Swallow all tint that hint
That greater peace with grace

Henry Victor 05.02.2008

I Saw You Hanging

Jesus, I saw you hanging there alone
Like truth that needs neither props nor supports
Deserted by your studiously chosen apostles and
Disowned by Peter, James and his brother, the approved inner circle

Jesus, I saw you hanging on the cross
Like a slaughtered goat for public sale
Condemned by the elders who induced the masses to ‘crucify’
Convicted by Annas and Caiphas the diligent chief priests!

Jesus, I saw you hanging at Golgotha, the place of sculls
Like a criminal with no legal practitioners to defend
Beaten with cruel hands, legs and whips
Belittled with filthy motions, petitions and abuses

Jesus, I saw you hanging outside the gate with your cassock missing
Like an un-ordained ordinary layman
Accused by both religious and secular powers that wish to stand apart
Avenged by Herod, the foxy culprit, and Pilate, the cautiously benevolent

Jesus, I saw the truth hanging there alone
With neither props nor supports to ease her suffering
Jesus, I saw truth hanging on the cross
Forsaken by both the elites and the masses
When truth didn’t profit them

Jesus, I saw truth hanging at Golgotha,
The meeting place for sacred and secular
Abandoned by ministers of Church and State
While truth disturbed the status quo

Jesus, I saw truth hanging outside the gate
Humiliated and defeated, ready for burial
Because truth refused to compromise

Henry Victor 30.01.1992

Flowers and Thorns

Let me neither linger
To gather flowers to keep them
Nor to walk on
Anticipating for flowers
To bloom all my way
For what is important
Is to be on my way
To my eternal home
Through the path
That life has designed
Never grudging
But always appreciating
The flowers that bloom
And thorns that prick
For they are nothing
But providence, a grace
From heaven
For my incubation and fruition

Henry Victor 02.11.1992

Giving

We live
Not with
What we brought
But by
The generous giving
Of others

Even our being,
In short,
Is someone’s giving

By giving we live
By withholding we perish

In any case,
What we have
And what we are
One day
We will be giving

Therefore,
It is better
That we give today
And give that
Voluntarily

Give,
And give now

Give
Not so much what we have
But give
Just our-selves

Give,
And give now
We
Like the trees and the cattle
Give
Not only
For the deserving
But also
For the undeserving;

Today,
We give
The smile they need
The time they require

We give
Not for ourselves
But for others;
Therefore,
We give
Not for recognition
And not for manipulation;
We give
Not for acknowledgement

We give
To those who ask
And
To those who ask not

We give
Because
We believe
In life

And
We live
Only by giving

Henry Victor 26.06.2001

Giving

When the economy is booming
“Giving to the poor” is another name
For “clearing your junk”

Giving, then, is for grabbing!
“Give the old, grab the new”
Give to the poor, to feed your greed

Such giving is hurting and also wounding
Not the giver but the poor
Ending in falsehood and in an outright mockery!

But in the more real sense
“Genuine giving” is another sound for “sacrifice”
That hurts and also wounds the benefactor

True giving heals the meager and creates more space
Not for wealth in giver’s coffer but for joy
In the heart of the donor leading to peace with justice

Henry Victor 21.03.2001

Denials and Praise

Neither my denials hurt
You, nor provoke you to will, or act
Against my puny self

Nor do my praises soothe your thought
To bribe you
To favor this bastard

Nor, do they affect you in any way
Or, do little to impair your strength
Neither will they change the course of my fate

But, then these do not lead me to silence either
For your stillness, too, remains a mystery
That prompts my speaking
Even when it is irrelevant
To you, the creator, or, to the other
My fellow creature
Two sure realities
I, unfalteringly, establish
By zealous affirmations and angry abjurations

Henry Victor 17.05.2001

Constant Treachery

When I go for copper
You give me a nickel
When I go for dollar
You give me none
Making me your slave
Bonded so permanently
To your constant deceit
And my colleague so treacherously
Announces: the divine mystery

Henry Victor 25.01.2001

Uncut Stone

An uncut stone
Am I, with bone
Strong like that of John
Who bent not for wind
Of the desert
Or that stronger
From the palace of Herod

An uncut stone
Am I, with bone
Strong enough to stand-alone
With neither praises
Nor graces
From heaven above
Or sources below

An uncut stone
Am I, with bone
Strong to stand stranded,
Refusing all mendaciousness
That goes with marketing
To those with lesser flavor,
Unsold even in eternity

Henry Victor 04.07.2001

Not Magic

Not a magic that I expect
You to quickly act upon
But a miracle that I yearn
In my life, you to execute

I do not ask you to change
My water into red wine
But transform my taste buds
That colorless will hint as wine

I do not ask you to multiply
My loaves, but that me
And mine never go hungry
Or ever disown the weary

I do not ask you for powers
To walk on the roaring sea
But that I will have the luxury
Of a friend, my woes to see

Not a magic that I expect
You to quickly act upon
But a miracle that I yearn
In my life, you to execute

Henry Victor 20.05.2001

details

details, details

when you have nothing
worthwhile to talk
talk of details

length of his beard

width of his garments
seating arrangements
when he supped with his friends -
circular, oblong
rectangular, or something else

details, details

when you have nothing
worthwhile to talk
talk of details

the age of the ass

and the color of the colt

experts on details

you explore, and explode more details
while the hungry are helplessly hanging
around those feeding centers
and the penniless poor
for sake of development, suffer crucifixion

talk of more and more details

until the unseen evaporates
your face is hidden behind masks
while the anxious masses
are disillusioned by your talks
and that holy week is utterly obscured

© henry victor      03.04.2001

To Happen

Nothing happens
Unless you make it happen
All have happened
For you to make it happen
Sit not, thinking that will happen
Or, someone will make it happen
For that will never happen
Until you make it happen
For it only happens
When you make it happen

Henry Victor 10.11.2000