un-camping

it rained last night and it poured

raining cats and dogs the whole night
and i slept not, not even a wink
for inside my tent i was drenched

the thunder storm with lightning

provided my camp with blinking light
after blowing out the candle, a blink
in my corner before it stood shining

now i un-camp to continue my expedition

hoping soon the sun would shine bright
to wash and dry soiled laundry, my link
to tomorrow’s trade and rest-filled vacation

henry victor     28.05.2013

 

jammed cento

retreating from the world, all i can do

where no man has seen the third hand
and i meet the Bishop on the road, and
i caught this morning morning’s minion

in an upper room at midnight

when i watch the living meet my last
Duchess painted on the wall!
oh, my love is like a red, red rose

for which the thirsty earth soaks up the rain

and flee from me that sometimes did me seek
with Chieftain Iffucan of Azcan in caftan!
Milton! you should be living at this hour!
 
henry victor     10.04.2013

ingredients

i prepared a simple supper

but with great love i cooked
that main meat of refined wheat
durum semolina, traded as rotini

an Italian pasta to go with beef, a grace

from a Canadian cow grazed in prairie grass,
spiced with herbs from the hunted tropics:
ginger, garlic, turmeric, and coriander

powdered, with red pepper powder

and red pepper crushed, black pepper
(also powdered), added to the onion
chopped, fennel, fenugreek, and cumin

(all seeds), and the magical mustard,

adding leaves chopped: basil, chives
and parsley, with garam masala, a Bharat
special, sprinkled with hardly a pinch of salt

before adding the slow-cooked African beans
and Mexican sauce: chopped and crushed tomato,
and boiled potato, after being sautéed
in the US canola oil to enhance the taste

of minerals and more already in my pan:

folate, iron, niacin, riboflavin, and thiamine
already mixed in carbohydrate, the main
with Chinese additives: citric, soy, and seasonings

unlisted; likewise the two sealed cans

that curtailed my sprinkling salt for supper
came with corn starch, sugar, more spices
and blackstrap molasses, and a poetic muse

henry victor     04.05.2013

from your son

mommy! you made your slim and sensual frame

into a shapeless bundle, bundling my being inside
you for nine long months, keeping me, a worm, warm,
free from hunger and thirst, marks of the world outside;

and today! you struggle to work so hard to remain a mom
of great affection, cuddling me, as you march to a profession
greater, and your time for me is likely to reduce, to dim
like a lamp gathering smoke soot on her facial expression,

like your mom before you, travelling that path of darkness

prior to teaching you skills to swim, to avoid sinking in a pool,
without that settling in a trailer park, to bike and hike, distances
incredible to inspire me, that i may avoid the way of a fool!

henry victor     12.05.2013

moulding the clay

in an unexpected moment you, the source

and content of my being, the providence
dumped into my hand a lump, a handful
of clay to mould, to squeeze into my soul,

with your intent to realign my finger

and my voice to your purpose littered
in a bird with wings free to fly away
breathing a breath of rebellion to rebel,
 
with my pain and pleasures now i clean
a baby’s bum, carry a child, run behind a teen
and beyond, my sculpting a living being
in which is hidden the trends of my doing

henry victor     29.04.2013