dreaming the destiny

from wilderness i returned home

journeying by shallow but longer channels

creeping also through constricting tunnels!

i did move fast on a flat road

by a motorized vehicle

continuously getting wet

and traveling with the threat

of being run over by trains

coming from the opposite direction

with no space to step out

of the narrow burrows

making longer waiting a necessity!

and more were temptations to pick

unwanted luggage strewn and scattered

by an earlier trekker like me

helplessly lost control of his walk

henry victor     03.01.2007

escape impossible

with hardly a few drizzle

from the sky

the rain flooded the road

pouring water from roof top

also into the house

as if a giant bath tap

open now from a height

unreachable

putting me and my household

out of our comfortable bed;

add to that i saw water

flowing from the road

through the door into our abode

and the waves in the ocean

nearby rising higher

as if giving birth to a monster

a monstrous tsunami

making an escape impossible!

and as i reflected i wondered

whether the end was imminent

henry victor      23.02.2007

a revisit

i revisited my school that made me

a man of some worth

there i went to see my old two-room

little quarter above that abandoned store

that housed me for five thick years

of life that made my mind fat

and very productive too

and as i climbed the stair

that now ended just in air

and fear engulfed my heart

that i may fall; so i stepped out

of bed and eased my self

henry victor      26.05.2007

untitled

in my little boat i have left the shore

and intend not to return

until i reach the shore

far beyond that horizon

and from citizens there i learn

the art of sailing in rough seas

in my small boat

with a hole in the bottom floor

gulls did declare the regime change

in my home town

and the fishing eagles, to me did inform

my house had been consumed by fire

but i intend not to return

to bury the dead

until i reach the shore

far beyond that horizon

and from citizens there i learn

the art of rowing in rough seas

in my small boat

with a hole in the bottom floor

henry victor     18.08.2007

night dreams

my mind is omnipresent god

neither sleeping, nor slumbering

not even in the coldest night

painting dreams, thinking thought

and constructing poems

forever with vivid images

simple symbols and newer metaphors

rooted in my cultural existence

© henry victor     29.10.2011

my dream

disgusting realities

my awake mind

refuses to let my eyes see

but when my eyelids are shut

my heart reconstructs

scribbling a perfect poem

a nightmarish dream

with graphic imageries

to haunt my soul, transcending

fear, words and lines dropped

on paper and prompted by vanity

i, then, name it, my verse

© henry victor     25.03.2004

vanity

 

while parking my car in backyard

i was fretful i scratch not

the painting

on the body

realizing not flooding underneath

the foundation of my house

that had already removed

the entire soil

and my house stood

with all its content on an empty vacuum

making the entire structure

ready to go down

crashing into a huge chasm

filled with stream

taking along with it

my car too

© henry victor     21.02.2003

    

living nightmare

my waking from slumber was too sudden

also, announcing others, my companions

in journey, about the entrance of our train

at the destination, with effects to un-board

before the carriage is shunted to the yard

to be locked for hours, may be for days

before becoming a carrier of another herd

in ride to a distant land, a different moment   

 

but it was nightmarish to unclutter dream

filled minds, purposeless lives, lumped

in the baggage of laziness with scattered

shoes and stocks of habitual procrastination

© henry victor            24.06.2014

my will

am i overly stubborn in imposing my will

rejecting your will, in my failing to see grace

in freight unloaded, regularly, at my feet

or, am i lively, very vibrantly, otherwise

adding life to a decaying soul like the mountain

lion, the cougar, pouncing dissolutely at the hunter

with his gun like will hounding the creature

who as a hermit already withdrawn to a cavern

my quest, however, is for wisdom, that light

from the abundance of your mercy to isolate

the black thread in the dusk of my life, and yield

to your will even in my defeat suspending mine

© henry victor

Note: Josephine’s shirt here reads, “When I grow up I want to be me”, expressing, perhaps, her MOM’s inflexible will!  (IHV)

wait to enter

as i tightly gripped the walls

with my soft fingers, you gently

embraced my total frame expanding

ever so fast like a new house

with a sacred chamber one day

will house another me now housed

with all essential fluid, fire and firm

flesh, mettle to let me hold my soul

until ready to enter the theatre

that dance to perform with music

from other dances around and joy

and sorrows trapped deep in mind

© henry victor           02.06.2016

illusory expectation

time for me today is like a frozen

river, running only underneath

not in my eyes i see a flowing

moving of your hand, a beating

of your heart right within my heart

absence here caused by your busyness

elsewhere made me wait in vain

but i blame you not for my devotion

rooted in an illusory expectation

not solid like my pillow on my bed

for me to indulge in a deeper dream

surfacing from that brain within

© henry victor      23.01.2016

shattered dream

reality, far removed from my dream

of my earlier days of romance with success
tortures me daily in my sleep and wakefulness
cutting me into pieces each calling your name
i struggle to let go from my soul soaring
victoriously, into suffering and pain

i, now, linger in that prison, the four walls

levelled around me by my own will and making
and working of the destiny gnawing
joyously like the beaver making the dam
nibbling the taller trees with shorter teeth
arranged in nature with none to dominate
that ultimate will to shatter my heart’s proposal
i had put forward with my innocent compassion
going beyond my initial skill accumulation

henry victor      01.01.2015

 

 

mediocrity

she runs with blinkers, changing

not her course, her dream
with him riding on her with similar
pads and becoming one with speed

like a jockey on the horse racing

a harmonious linking
of two unlike souls, one
from the surface of the earth

and the other from a cloud floating

but impregnated not with rain
a sure unproductive providence
together also a mere vapour

henry victor      17.04.2014

 

 

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!

croaking this night

i am locked behind the locked door
with ground outside frozen with snow
and trees around the house are nude
to hide nakedness of that brighter bird

my prying eyes, however, pry on fate

feeling with inside of my palm her form
placing on chest my ear to feel her heart
the pulse that direct my soul in the route

my baggage is heavy and burdensome

with my mind racing to many victories
with no single victory stand to alight
and i, a frog, croak to death this night

20.02.2012

Cobras

Pretty young cobra, just out of shell
With that cute hood, the unique stamp
Marked with an omega, or some read
On that hat, that unrelenting Om!

I walked too close with that kerosene can
In mind not harm but desire to own
But now I see hissing, so sudden
Cobras, diverse color, in dozen

From that very empty sandy ant hill
Moving into protect the small snake
I took a step behind, me to wake
And think of that strange dreaming still

Henry Victor 15.07.2003

Note: Photograph provided by Gitanjali Victor