the struggle

to remain a little longer under that blanket
in the space heated with my own body heat
i preferred but struggling against, in the same
time, idleness to live the ideal of an early riser

i win the battle but with an empty trophy
i wake but to empty trash for collection
to shorten a word to fit into an empty page
to re-naming empty, un-rhyming phrase as poem

do i complain, then, to heaven the unfairness
picking crumbs fallen from the table when
the partying is over and the music is stopped
as i still secretly hope the distant water to be real

for too many mirages i have witnessed
after driving many miles through the land
of opportunity, a journey I began leaving
my mother land to book my six foot space

henry victor     22.10.2012
 


 

an emerging poet

as i carefully chewed my snack to digest, to chew
it thinner and tinier than the sesame seed
i had just consumed, i noticed my face on left
side suddenly swelling, covering also my ear

prompting my daughter to drop me in the emergency
clinic where wires connected my beats to a heart
monitor that informed a confusing signal, also, confusing
the young doctor in his early stage of a long journey

my three-year old grandson, an emerging poet
next day narrated to a friend the story of a monster
from that broken building hitting his grandpa
on face and he took the old man to the hospital

henry victor     20.10.2012