deserted cocoon

he was the crusty cocoon covering the caterpillar

boneless, yet filled with vibrant life, and belittling
the very source of her security, and the sacrifices
the casing made to transform frailty and un-beauty

later to lighter flight, much fluttering with splendour

of myriad colours as of acrylic paint and clear-coat
for weathering both the hot sun and the wet rain
before seizing the right moment to flirt with another

and never return to the cocoon, the first house

that remains deserted, forever a broken heart, blood
now dried, able to give no more life, mere useless
clothing, like the shed skin of a snake now escaped   

henry victor     25.06.2013

* This poem is dedicated to Fari Lotsali of Eagle Nation Buffet in Pitt Meadows, BC

 

dancing with angels

when in mind melancholy

has anchored like a ship immovable

let my heart hear your whispers

your songs

the un-winged angels coming in winds

both gentle and rough

to unhinge my soul for dancing

after smooth, or jolting shift of gears

altering reasons and changing my vision

lest i sink in mud

that sadness mixed with pity

flowing like water to keep ground soft

and my wings stuck

disabling the soaring of my spirit

toward clouds

sailing on the wings of your storm

on paths high

much higher than above my head

encasing the brain detached

from dancing angels 

henry victor      05.06.2013