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

that depth

she carried a deeper sea

none, not even she

has ever, in full, explored that depth

further, thickly she has veiled

the surface, her face covered

that none may see her cry, or smile

she like Maryam was willing

to bear the Word of God, killing

not what needs to be revealed

fearing not the heretical thoughts

bred by men of power and wallets

living what she heard in that depth

© henry victor      20.06.2016

with clowns around

seated beside the lake with no waves

beating the shore, or above the surface
bleating fish i see neither wrinkles
nor the need to crusade for life

neatly pressed while clowns pass by

at times nodding at me to acknowledge
my absence elsewhere in the market
and crowded malls and other clowns

mere passers-by, often with sombre face

and more of others with firm intent to mask
face true, rooted to their heart, with more
to tickle faces stuck to glue of the past pain

henry victor      03.04.2014