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my love for you both in the past

and present fluctuated like my blood sugar

sometimes too high, and at other

times dropping so low, threatening

my soul with a coma, as excessive grace

hits my heart like the fast acting glucose

i chew bringing in some normalcy for plasma

to carry the required energy to limbs

since i am nearer the gate of your mansion

i desire now a devotion that is constant

so you may, in my heart, find some rest

as i work your acts with my feet and hands

© henry victor            24.02.2018

triumphant city

plenty of preparations

too many high-rises

busy planning and working hard!

implementing a scripted plan

shifting even the pole star

bending the Ursa Major

establishing four divine worship

in a single cathedral with tall steeple

leaving no room for rest

little space for impulse

not even little for a spontaneous

geese flying in for nesting

beside water holes

a resting before a flight back

when heaven here break

forth for hibernating

pouring purity

the snow once more!

©  henry victor       19.03.2016

soling the soul

you stood outside my door for so long

before i let you in; now, for you, i long

to keep you in my embrace, to explore

every aspect of your being, head to toe

i want my nerves to feel your heart beat

on my chest, an unrented bed in long wait;

it was actually due to fear of bed-bugs crawling

to suck blood from a heart that is pumping

but last night the very thought of you

created that most beautiful tempo

for both my peaceful deeper sleep

and nightmare free hike for a poetic soul

© henry victor           21.01.2016      

my manuscript

i cannot believe i let you sit there

but i am not surprised

for i know you knew how to push your mother

to the back seat

while you pestered

me for the driving seat

as well!

this morning, i sit here

alone and stare at this picture

for many more minutes

quickly rolling down the many roads

we drove together

at times singing

other times fighting!

i remember

as soon as the deer hit my windshield

you refused to sit in front!

what a thrilling journey

for me to scribble this graffiti

a manuscript

i will take it to the Eternal Publisher

after yet another longer one

but without you!

© henry victor           15.11.2015

Brian Chan, my Edmonton poet friend, first met my only daughter Gitanjali when she was about eleven-years-old and battling cancer. Since then he has repeatedly told me “Gita is the leader of your family”!

For sure, she has been leading the themes and the moods of my poems. She dictates, very lovingly, what mask I should wear at a specific moment. Into her nuclear family of four, plus her pet dog Sophie, Gitanjali has now carefully grafted me as I wait eagerly for the longer journey to my Eternal Publisher with my manuscript!

Henry Victor

for poetry

my pail for poetry is empty

and the well is also deep; a rope

the rhyme and rhythm, for verse

too from my mind is missing!

for you, the well-spring of beauty

my thirst is curled deep inside

my heart, persevering within my soul

for an apt moment, relentlessly hissing!

let me then creep into your sentry

that lets into being change and new seasons

for fresh life, fruit gathering, and scattering

of colours, that fall for sleeping with freezing!

© henry victor         17.10.2015  

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

not bored

i am not bored but broken

shattered completely, like that bus-shed

in service, now vandalized by a teenager

un-named, an incarnation of indiscipline

i am not bored but empty

with my purpose, from me, stripped

and my use made naked

un-public, souls from me fleeing

i am not bored but dead

living lifeless, walking around

like those zombie in a video game

un-dead, but soon to be buried    

© henry victor        10.07.2015

stuck in the web

my mind is sick, like a gnat in spider’s stuck

in the web of mindless and unloving speech,

a sickening and stuttering response

to my moments of selfless love

sacrificing hours i needed to plough and dig

the field, the city archives retrieving speech

of men and women of the past to paint a story

of the spirit and values of a surrendering

the life-jacket my ancestors put-on to glide

the visible, the same i wore to collect speech

the sores in tongues of my contemporaries

that i was destined to balm with my poems  

© henry victor        25.07.2015

unused brain

begging for many more opening

like a homeless, restlessly carrying

a wallet fat as her unused brain

to discern not wealth, an affection

at the door step that she is kicking

seeking more love, bent on biting

the hand feeding her mouth, a gate

opening strength to a flexing foot

will she ever, ever open her wallet

to let her mind know a bird in hand

fulfilling more than many in a scrubland

as un-grasped affection is life discarded

© henry victor           15.07.2015 

too soon

a single Amaryllis bulb

into my Christmas gift did bump

like devotion to Christ

i, on time, with care did plant

blood-red flowers soon did bloom

delighting my heart

prompting fingers to photo-shoot

like fancying a young bride

too soon the wisdom of the astute

did knock on my door, my head

dollars in night dreams too fade

on waking like my drooped floret

© henry victor         12.02.2018

the three

he holds you tight under his arm-pit

dancing on waves like a wood on drift

with other drift-woods swimming not

to the shore, to you, the eternal rest spot

the other, with you on the same spot

too swims with speed, not aimlessly float

but deep under water with intent

to whirl the water above with its content

the third he steers the rudder of the boat

pretending to swim with others in the moat

his own dug-out, to colonise you and the rest

the submissive slaves, with no quest, nor zest

© henry victor           31.08.2013 

blame game

i am inclined to blame another

for my lack of skill and resolve

to complete the task entrusted

or undertaking i volunteered

even in my blame i am prone

to pass that buck to Adam

and his spouse, or that gene

i inadvertently inherited

instead of abandoning the blame

game i continue my play

that relay race i chose to name

as human nature frail and faulty

© henry victor               04.12.2011

night dreams

my mind is omnipresent god

neither sleeping, nor slumbering

not even in the coldest night

painting dreams, thinking thought

and constructing poems

forever with vivid images

simple symbols and newer metaphors

rooted in my cultural existence

© henry victor     29.10.2011