not bored

i am not bored but broken

shattered completely, like that bus-shed

in service, now vandalized by a teenager

un-named, an incarnation of indiscipline

i am not bored but empty

with my purpose, from me, stripped

and my use made naked

un-public, souls from me fleeing

i am not bored but dead

living lifeless, walking around

like those zombie in a video game

un-dead, but soon to be buried    

© henry victor        10.07.2015

abyss

my wings faltered and into an abyss

i fell from where i saw a deeper hole
within the cave of my heart, and more
i lingered there, i saw more craters

bigger, creating a deep void within

and the more i pondered that hollow
within the more frightening it became
and the gulf outside too stretched afar

i thought then with what shall i fill

that chasm deep within my soul!
from that drift, an alienation i am
how do i free myself, my being?

henry victor     01.07.2002

 

toad not croaking!

 

like that toad my little grandson brought
from the park you sit in my unkempt garden
with fewer flowers, fruits, and overgrown
tomato and lettuce plants now in neglect

here i neither see you nor hear your croaking

except, vaguely, as i parse your speech, breaking
of light and sound in my dreams i hardly
ever remember as the morning sun so deadly

towards my night i embrace, dearly, with affection;

for it keeps my eye lids shut and feet in resting position,
my invisible heart and mind complacent of the margin;
thus affirming your invisibility, a faith in great precision!

henry victor       01.09.2013