rusty, mouldy, and faulty

your household cherishes rusty liturgy

irrelevant to daily days

giving no stimulation for struggle

to overthrow burden that cripple years

men and women who bear your son’s name

play with a mouldy mindset, dead doctrine

that has lost its power to guard your yard

from straying cattle destroying vegetation

children in your hall dance to faulty tune

until they are tired to meet death

and your banquet hallway is empty

being freed of all perishing wealth

henry victor   09.05.2003    

Note: Art work here is that of Justin Victor, my grandson when he was 5 years old: A Dinosaur (with a small brain)!

a distorted vision

my left hand moved

swiftly

to remove the log in my left eye

sitting there

obstructing my vision of the globe

leading to an erroneous measure

but my right traveled

more swift

to prevent the left arm

serving good

thwarting the removal of wood

to enhance my vision of planet

my left eye joined

spontaneously

the protest of right complaining saw dust

in neighbour’s

demanding my left hand joins right

to remove my neighbour’s speck

henry victor     23.09.2003

i write a poem

sometimes i quickly write a poem

when a dagger has pierced my heart

or a mercy has reached my soul

making it dance to rhythmic refrain

other times i struggle to pen a verse

when desire to discipline is high

or to my daughter exhibit my brain

making her evolve into a genius

on occasion i compose rhyming lines

when my ego is bloated too big

to remain small, humble and modest

making easy an empty expedition

henry victor     23.03.2003

the photograph

words and images reign

my thoughts

dictating disorder out

to establish the couch

for more sun shine

deep within my heart

during this regime

on the roadsides  

i see much rain

puddles, my poems

reflecting for eyes, ready

to see the neighbourhood

henry victor          16.12.2018

posting in ghost towns

i drive many hours

through ghost towns, abandoned

poetry groups, planting words

with pants and images

with wings to flutter

inside hearts like butterflies

decorating the walls

hosts have left behind

for guests passing

through zombie towns to post

their songs; but the brainless

seldom see music

leaving me to dance alone

with not even a single applause

testing my inner mettle

to roam the towns

bereft of taste and depth

of rational, observable substance

henry victor           11.12.2018

pitching your tent

 

pitching always your tent

where i have pitched mine

beside my neighbor’s

you remain my lord

you are my peace

from above

a light from heaven

with life like an ever-flowing river

to quench my thirst

you are that glorious whole

the most holy one

my feeble feet discover rest

in your place

you are the pioneer

that stone in the corner

by being my servant

serving me in my need

henry victor     02.02.2003

my impediment

underneath the starlit sky

my impediment

that fear of humans

i carry within my heart

is, suddenly,  revealed

despite the terror of animals

with nature

unexpectedly enraging

i have overcome

the trepidation of human colleagues

capable of falsifying

my intentions

inflating the innate inherent little evil

and butchering me with no tools

but by naming me with a name

carefully considered

an uttered contemplation

in a twisted heart

with a distorted reason

in it

i comprehend

my cross

my Golgotha!

henry victor     29.01.2003