rock style religion

rock has evolved a spirituality

acquiring a living style of firmness

beyond that of a hermit

affected neither by cold

nor the heat that burn

discounting

both a pharisaic praise

and a cynic’s contempt

with rock

none can induce pain

nor cause a pleasing pleasure

for the soul of the rock

neither affirm, with affection

nor deny the creator, benevolent

remaining stone silent

as the Rockies

henry victor         05.12.2003

silenced

after i heard that ‘shut up’

right inside my ear

suddenly

an invisible monster

a formless fear

entered my abode

and silenced

my tattered couches

and the cushions

that continuously echoed

and re-echoed

those foot-falls of your soft feet

now i continue to float

with the music of your silence

sounds instructing my soul

dancing your songs

even after you had left

at the day’s end

the old man’s house is bereft

of a constantly chirping bird

in whose eyes hung my hope

giving me direction

for my remaining distance

to cope with courage

my pilgrimage to heaven’s gate

that final bed warm and soft

requiring no brain

to discern

to stop at red

henry victor                  12.02.2013

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

saw not your face

sabbath is lonely, full of pain

as you take a break to rest

and i saw not your face, even

once, to whisper my love

work days are burdensome

yet, providing a private space

for my shoulders to touch yours

your soul, for my soul to notice

i must let you go today, realize

i, for you to hide your face

from me, for you to retain

your essence for more peace

© henry victor

post a poem

observing the depth, width, and length

i refuse to scuttle like a galloping horse;

hence i choose to carefully scan the world

like a tortoise surveying, slowly, the path

superficiality, i know, refuses to dive deep

to follow the path of the cormorant

prompting the world to survey like a crow

picking crumbs and not dive for pearls

withdrawing from the rat race of this world

as a half-naked hermit with the minimum

i enter into the court, the cave of my heart

occasionally coming out to piss a poem

 

© henry victor     23.11.2003

soaked in silence

she is either deaf

to hear that loud pulse

caused by my faltering heart

or, is extremely venomous

to sting with a single word

‘drama’, that made me dumb

to speak another word

like a father to daughter

but grace from above

or, from deep within

made me enjoy with ease

that silence above clouds

floating to and fro

aimlessly as a bitch in heat

while stillness from beyond

filled my heart with peace

© henry victor            18.04.2012

the stupid wretched

in your presence i am speechless

and my vocabulary, an empty cup, inadequate
to describe my view, and my concepts
of you falter to provide a handle

to deal with your splendid Being

so huge, too large for my puny mind;
hence, i sit still and in silence my soul
wonders, wandering into the Ocean, the Soul

but i am trapped in that cage i have built

carefully for years fifty and more eight
increasing my urge to cling to the un-cling-able;
rescue this wretched from the imminent death!

night heron

roaming foxes

and creeping pythons

provoke not poetry

in night heron

that challenges me

with her silence

and unsung patience

before flying

with splendid colour

of a slim structure

reminding, also, the need

to anchor in hope

of a better tomorrow

a faith in universal care

and abandoning speed

for anxious moving

henry victor     14.01.2002

Speechless

In your presence I’m speechless
My vocabulary is inadequate
To describe that which I see in you

My concepts of you falter to provide
A handle to deal with your splendid
Being, so huge, for my puny mind

Hence, I sit in silence
While my soul wonders and wanders
In yours, but trapped in that cage
That I have carefully built
For years fifty and more eight
Increasing my need to cling
To that which is inclinable

“Wretched man that I am!
Who will rescue me
From this body of death?”

Henry Victor 28.02.2008