furthest star

i constantly smell, hear
and continuously see voices
from beyond, clearly, from right within
my heart; then with the aid of mind
i ponder without funking the infuriating
experience, a life more authentic
making my mortal soul into a state
of dreaming thoughts of divine essence

these provocative dreams
nay, the violent thunder clapping
make me a stormy storm impregnating
my tender being with lightning, lightning
spontaneously gathering around snarling
quarrelling and discord leading
me at the end to Golgotha the empty
scull but hoping that one day though
comprehended much late like the dim light
of the star that is furthest, so at last
my soul shall enlighten innocent children

13.02.1995

Note: Is Justin, my grandson, painting a picture or crafting a poem? His is a piece of art!

releasing the anchor

fear of depth and hesitation
mind’s preoccupation
with shark is only in the shore
the beginning of a voyage
an opening of a business

further in open sea challenge
is to enjoy those gulls mindlessly
surfing, sitting on the ocean

as rowing your little vessel
continues, like a walking exercise
of a man stingy with time,
to cross the chasm

02.08.2012

gossip

poetry is an art of playful gossip
with focus of that chatter
dressed colourfully for mind’s eye
to catch the butterfly

fluttering around like a gossip
in a metaphor concealing the nakedness
with pubic hair jutting out
making head to turn away

02.08.2012
 

conversation

four tall men in five hundred
year old tradition of wearing a turban
were seated on picnic seats
beside my walking trail

did the Punjabi men in conversation
content of which sounded Greek
exclude me for what they knew
or for sake of an art i failed to learn

01.08.2012

optimism

chipped, truly cracked, broken
is my windshield of the vehicle
my automobile that gave my soul
the mobility and the speed to move

that’s my nest, my family, my all
in which i lived, swiftly moved
had my being creating and crafting
my toy toying with my time, my eternity

but George sees this whole in future
un-chipped, un-cracked, un-broken
this hope, or that un-real, the ostrich
total blindness, an optimism

30.07.2012

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

give give

‘tha-tha’ that sound
the Tamil word for grandpa
from justin’s lips
is the sweetest in my ears

‘tha’ in that dialect
means give, or give me
making ‘tha-tha’ to mean
give, give, or give me, give me

‘give, and give me
your time, your love
and your all
to fill this tin

just for fun
tha-tha’,
dreams my grandson
my little big man