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 

my breakfast

i am glad i decided to think

outside the box
to unchain my soul
like my seven-year old grandson
chasing a magpie on the way to school

so for my breakfast

i let go my beggarly oatmeal
with that watery milk
racing to prize my daughter’s joy
that last two days of baking hard

while i washed and chopped

the apples the little rascal picked
from under the tree
i planted seven years ago
my home’s celebration of the first born

so i ate an Easy Apple Muffin
a tasty Apple Cinnamon Lemon Zest Muffin

two squares of Apple Cinnamon Baked Oatmeal
and a raw apple with a shiny skin
like that of the angelic Josephine

© henry victor          07.09.2016

my faith

how big should be my canvas

to paint a splendid painting

satisfying my soul, or the Source

the Soul that paints my soul

if it is small as my thumb nail

will it be pushed away

and dismissed as narrowly

moralistic, unduly silly

and what if it is wide, wide

as the world beyond my window!

will this be sacked as political

a revolt against the Heaven!

what if i make it my palm size

connecting dots and lines therein!

will such an art be brushed aside

as too mathematical, merely cerebral!

© henry victor