graffiti

have i now matured into a youth

with an urge to scribble on rock

trees and walls a heart and an arrow

with my initials indicating i passed

through this way alone with a heart

full of lost love and longings new

and memories of good moments

and winter nights that passed

like a short summer and at the end

i graduate piling up my graffiti

to name it poem from my heart for readers

absent, screaming for an applause that passed

© henry victor             26.11.2017

  

wedding

july, the month of rain

for my garden, weeding

and for pairs, wedding

homily to couples

for my preaching, i say

but this was indeed with much difference

a blending of two souls in open presence

overlooking the pyramid

not in egypt

but one of the rockies

on side of the canadian

beside the maligne canyon

with creek and waterfalls for music

the summer sun providing the light

and the warmth much needed

among frozen relationships gone too cold

but will they give birth to a child

like the mountain goat

with no veterinarians around

that query is from the soft-spoken

black-billed magpie

and clark’s nutcracker

as the columbian ground squirrel

on her toes, stand to witness the union

and will that child

survive the intrusion

the invasion

of her privacy in this world

of excessive cameras

© henry victor               18.07.2004    

 

 

loads of love i did provide:

food, clothing, and security

i supplied in hefty quantity;

language skills and logic

i did not hide from her;

travel abroad and to towns afar

with exposure to beauty and beast

too was never in small amount;

yet i failed in my adventure

to instruct and inspire

my posterity in the path to success,

sitting in front of screen with my muse

i craft that crap, the broken line

calling it poetry to amuse

none but this silly self, the swine

indulging in miry excess

© henry victor                 07.08.2004

two together

desperately i try to create calm

deep within the cave of my heart

while secretly surfing on the storm

whistling outside, snarling at my want

to beat all swirling inside my soul

treacherously betraying my spirit

climbing, combing a higher mountain

clinging to the goal, the gold crown

thus i carry within a single self

two corpses:

a stillborn child

and my own

© henry victor              18.08.2004

conflict

 

hand in hand he and she went

to Miquilon Lake in fall colours

there he saw heaven

and wanted to remain

but she smelt hell, dying

with stink; defying

the desire to camp,

thus he and she

my nostril and eye,

walked with conflict

as waves of season

rolled on, and on

© henry victor              25.09.2004

 

 

end of my claim

the tiger, i said, is a creature of habit

hunting down, unlike me

with no concern to abstract

that thought

a compassion for his prey

despite senses acute

his is an insensate brain

with limited memory

and power of prediction

until into his mouth

went my brainy brain

and there did end all my claim

© henry victor           20.09.2004

 

 

naked dancing

 

night and day i have been awake

always looking for a way out of misery

keeping a close account of the cost

eliminating errors in my estimate

determined to find cure for life’s ills

dancing to the tunes of band masters

avoiding only the loss of modesty

not dodging sacrifices that are basics

conniving not with crooks and crooked

i am now tired with end not yet visible

naked i have become with all wasted

garments, but searching i stop not

© henry victor          11.09.2004 

 

 

foolish fish

a foolish fish am i fattened with folly

to swallow an un-baited hook

while already trapped in a trap

that manipulates my own excess

now i wait for generosity to un-hook

and keep me in that closed corner

letting me feel closely a providence

a grace to swim though in tiny space

and before extinction to mouth

creative curses on those enjoying

the extermination of others using sly

methods ignoring also their conscience

© henry victor       19.05.2002

a prophet is born

when my mind refuses to accept

absolute power in a single person
like a Constantine collecting church
and chisel a creed to control the masses

or persons amassing together to present
pretentious democracy promoting untruth
and crazy inefficiency my heart and soul
join to protest without weighing my cost

or visualizing gain in heaven, letting loose

poetry giving birth also to a prophet in line
of Moses, Amos, Ezekiel, Isaiah, Jeremiah
John, and last but not least, Jesus of Nazareth

© henry victor           20.05.2002

glory of nothingness

 

silly thoughts and worthless dreams flooded my mind

yesterday, and this morning too, like pounding waves

leaving me to lick my lips to taste its saltiness;

vain glory of poetry is that which i am seeking

in this world, walking on roads paved with eggshells

and leading to nowhere, an absent heaven!

poised moments do surface in that ocean, but to dive

leaving the shore and light into the darkness of depth

a Dutch courage i lack; for what if the road does not continue

to that peace and nothingness i crave with great intensity;

hell if i end up without Sylvia Plath being there!

© henry victor     24.02.2006

trending in my mind

these days, and cold nights

of winter, you trend in my mind

where i see my fingers sailing

on your long, silky black hair

that covers my face as my nostrils

sniff and squeeze gently sprinkled

fragrance on your whole body

like that red rose in full bloom

even as my lips search to kiss

your forehead where the waves

dark are parted before moving

to your eyes and tip of the nose

© henry victor          04.11.2017

mediocre muse

risking as little as possible

his muse is his timid tortoise

moving very little from his house

providing shelter and security

sitting indoor with closed eyes

and plugged ears and tight lips

he fears the hearing of his own snoring

loosing, at the end, a joy of journeying

that would otherwise invite much applause

as received at the end of the mythical race

where Aesop awarded a gold to the tortoise

that thumped the over-confident hare! 

© henry victor     25.02.2006

meaning

those events, joys and pains

that you send on my way

are designs that you, the unseen artist

scratch, sketch and etch

that i may ponder in my heart

the secret

intentions of that invisible artist

but never am i permitted

to publicly interpret

to proclaim

the meaning of artistic events

making me a mute

in the very presence of your absence

© henry victor     17.12.2008

battling boulder

you roll around me like a stream

with your sleeplessness as i sleep

deep, like a rock hard and un-wet

un-hurt in my soul as souls wait

to merge into the ocean of your love

like my body eventually becoming earth

to earth, and ashes to ashes! for in death

as in life, none can separate my heart

from yours flooding and surging in love

for me more than my daughter does for her

baby daughter; thus launching providence

you let me roll as a brook battling boulder

© henry victor             16.09.2016

friend i seek

i need your friendship

more now, than before;

i feel my aloneness

and the much i have lost

without a companion to chat

to receive a timely counsel!

those around me are too busy

and carry their own grief;

when not busy, or not burdened

with woes, often they are fake!

be not far away; speak loud

to me, and clear, that i may hear!

© henry victor

jealously guarded cell

 

jammed, jailed inside

a silly small self, eager to serve

secretly my little cause

and building my own

a fragile castle laboriously

brick by brick i raised

ousting others

from their rightful seats

using opportunities in my favour

stopping not to weigh cost

of seclusion, yearning more

until i collapsed in cell

 

© henry victor     18.03.2004

my dream

disgusting realities

my awake mind

refuses to let my eyes see

but when my eyelids are shut

my heart reconstructs

scribbling a perfect poem

a nightmarish dream

with graphic imageries

to haunt my soul, transcending

fear, words and lines dropped

on paper and prompted by vanity

i, then, name it, my verse

© henry victor     25.03.2004

caged puppy

am i not that caged puppy

running around, within that wire mesh

barking, and playing with toys

belonging not to self

unlike the little dog

i know that i am caged

with sloppy freedom

to flee, or fly higher

© henry victor     20.03.2004

low tide

i am back, again, to sit

on the rock in middle

of the flowing river

surging, splashing waves

after rising water;

the young men

and plenty of damsels

among them future rulers

too, walking through

the hub mall as i sit

to watch my muse

swelling in low tide

©  henry victor     24.03.2004

double stars

like the double diamond

i bought for your pendant

i thought the double stars too i own

i mean you, my soul, and your son

my mind, hence, endlessly craved

to light my grotto, my simple life

with your bright light, the laughter

you brought, and your son later

but the lustre in the light

inside the cave of my temple

where brighter memory is venerated

as the creator of poetry is now faded

© henry victor           07.07.2015

stripping to let in

a complete stripping

to see the naked

that beauty incarnate

is not, for me, feasible

but i am glad it’s possible

to throw away the covering

those chunky blankets, years

of schooling, educating mind

to probe the inner splendour

that my eyes of my soul

may gaze the light

as brightness enter my heart

©  henry victor     12.02.2004

in retreat … i wait

in retreat i wait for a voice

a sense, an assurance
a word of admonition, a declaration
of a direction and i wait

to charge my soul, rundown battery

and i am seated in front
of that window with curtain
rolled, and my coffee cup empty

it is a wintry morning

with a moon waning
yet to set
as leafless boughs sway

and pine branches

have shed the snow
as bunches
of mountain ash berries swing

they add

an extravagant red
to rising reddish rays

but in retreat

i wait
for light
to shine in heart

© henry victor     11.02.2004

i try not to touch

 

it’s 7.10 am

last day of the retreat

again i am in front

of the same window

the curtain too is drawn

to see the beyond

the moon, perhaps waned more

now blocked by the spruce tree

winds are not blowing

but some smoke is puffing

the chimney causing a chase!

i hear

doors opening

and doors shutting

men, women -- nay

priests and priestesses

tip toeing!

i have overcome, i notice

bits of self

i know

neither i belong here, nor there

a thought with which i am

now comfortable;

the moon is still hidden

i try not to touch the moon

© henry victor      11.02.2004

please! don’t fill my cup

my cup is empty

and i have desire

for no more

in this land of plenty

food here taste no more

for my taste buds are depleted

as if x-rays have destroyed

my heart, my desire

in the land of scarcity

there was joy at that time

every instant i returned home

to share potted curd so tasty

© henry victor     11.02.2004

effects made easy

they make things easy

for themselves

walking in terrain unknown

without being blown

they stroll around here

with weighty artillery baggage

that soon transmutes into

my coffin, a heavier luggage

for my daughter continuing her walk

they deliver it from high in the sky

making effects easier

for my offspring as well

and they call this:

“liberation”

but i add the alias

“genocide”

© henry victor     05.02.2004

death gives life

death, the destruction of the bee

at such a great height

leads not to the end

but yields to a new hive

from the new honey will ooze

boosting novel life!

defeat, destruction of victory

after patient endurance

leads not to the end

but yields a fresh muse

transforming thoughts

into lines, prompting peace

© henry victor     23.01.2004

blow, i pray!

winds from God: wind

from humanity, winds from nature

winds from north, winds from south

winds from east, winds from west

blow, i pray; blow it hard

blow in my nodding mind

and in my unproductive yard

until aged are dropped to be dead

blow, i pray; blow it hard

until the self in slumber is awaken

and the roots are shaken

and shaken hard

and new life become firmly rooted

in my mind and in my yard

lent to me for productive plenitude

blow, i pray; blow it hard

© henry victor     03.02.2004

triumph and failure

when intoxicated with triumph

fame follows as the path winds

through hours, days, weeks

months, and years!

but a little failure, a minor stumble

on a little boulder may rock the boat

appearing as an insurmountable

mountain that can never be conquered

hence the heart hangs

with feet up like a bat

even when much light is around

for mind to sail on wings of the wind

© henry victor     23.01.2004

finding my true soul

perceptions leading to plenty

in my purse is to be worldly wise

and practical like the tractable

triumph i first sought much

while sacrificing my sympathy

to small, a single sheep that compels

a sacrifice of success, a  prosperity

for ninety-nine in the fold of safety

but that Nazarene seeking me

taught the folly of not tracking

the lost in whom is my true soul

also lost, waiting to be found

© henry victor     02.01.2004

game is now over

statements taken out of context

twisted and perverted truths

half-truths, lies, and more blatant lies

woven together with graphs and hard numbers

enhancing the appearance of objectivity

to make the unsigned written statements

sometimes contradicted and at other

corroborated between the accusers

that accused to condemn, also assassinate

the character of a person, nay, themselves

the game, in any case, is now over

i must be quick to re-pack my bag

with jersey, sweat socks and boots

to be on my way home

scores are unimportant

performance is irrelevant

for sure, i kept my calm

and did not collapse

my wife that last refuge and comfort

will anxiously wait with hot chocolate

that i may drink to sleep tonight in peace

to journey tomorrow into another calvary

© henry victor