my envy

i envy the log

that disintegrates into the flame

into death

and into ash

reintegrating into her beginning

and final peace

i envy the raindrop

that drowns deeply into the ocean

into death

and into vapor

reintegrating into her beginning

and a new creation

henry victor     01.08.2002

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)!

take leave to hover

o my soul! leave this familiar desk

put aside the floppy disk

drive out of the city boundaries

picking up the pair of binoculars

go out my soul!

the land out there is vast

with landscape much varied

and it is summer time

your eyes and mind need to be tuned

on for machinery discarded and scattered

have lessons to teach

winds there too will sing their refrain

o my soul, yours is a fraction of eternity

let the music of birds enter your hall

driving out every evil in that tiny hell

but let your eyes be free to see afar

and nostrils too smell

away from the jar

let your feet walk where there is none

for what your fingers type will go in vain

o my soul! leave this familiar desk

put aside the floppy disk

drive out of the city boundaries

where space floats to let my soul soar

henry victor     24.07.2002

the blue jay

let me be swift as the blue jay

flying into my bird feeder

not to fill her mouth full with greed

or sit there to own

to persist on living in free food

as if it is her right;

let me, then, move swiftly

taking into heart

life here is but a momentary breath

bringing here nothing

and take home nothing

knowing well in mind

the swiftness of my flight

much, is dependent on my disowning

this bird feeder

my present status!

henry victor      27.05.2007

Note: In photograph is, (perhaps!), a Brewer’s Blackbird (male), a temporary replacement for my Blue Jay in the poem!

flooding of the Blue Nile

an emptiness clouds around

a feeling of losing battle

not just in one front

but in many fronts simultaneously

continuing coughing also causes pain

to flow like Blue Nile

from throat to other limbs

not for nourishing

but for destroying life

above all controlling

the freer expression of words

like a poem refusing the making

making me a poet unpublished

walking into the pit prematurely

i have cried many times to Heaven

above, and deep within

to release me, my little self from chain

preventing my flight into freedom

where i am no longer enslaved

by the little that thinks big

henry victor      01.06.2007

cushioning of nests

murmuring i heard coming through windows

not shut in heaven closer to corridors

opened to slums of children!

heaven confused of ambitious preachers

serving prestigious churches in cities

while sanctuaries elsewhere permanently deserted!

generous gifts and atmosphere of apathy

produced by great organ-music so expensive

are signs for pinnacle of worldly success!

costly stained glass windows permit not

into sanctuary rays of light from slums

and the loud grief and cries of children!

supply station has been transformed by the rich

and their angelic allies into the place of refuge

with no errands except cushioning of nests!

henry victor     21.07.2002

last act

dying with courage is the last act

i wait to complete, emptying the body

with all its craving and envy to enjoy

the ecstasy of no more misery

then i shall join the multitude

of my ancestors hitherto have departed

to the enviable mansion; happy

they are now with no more tears, nor pain

many men and women struggle to depart

this life with ease avariciously clinging

to this world with ache; emancipation

they see not in healing death

henry victor     29.10.2002

awake

you inside the cave of my soul

is always awake

monitoring my every cell

for the inflow of sugar

awakening my brain when

the trickling stops

no matter even

if mind is submerged in dream

i wake; i respond

to your summoning

giving thanks much grand

naming it: miracle

© henry victor           13.09.2016 

friend i seek

i need your friendship

more now, than before;

i feel my aloneness

and the much i have lost

without a companion to chat

to receive a timely counsel!

those around me are too busy

and carry their own grief;

when not busy, or not burdened

with woes, often they are fake!

be not far away; speak loud

to me, and clear, that i may hear!

© henry victor           08.09.2016

a simple life

life and order painted

in a war cemetery

is not what i sought

after for my life

but a little brook

rolling over a rock

the hardened pain

of loveless years

that i may sit still

and listen to music

in the running water

and in the wailing

of the swaying perches

the choice of magpies

and the plainer raven

far from hustle of the town

© henry victor           24.01.2018

cataloguing

the longer i wait to be hired

my mind wanders from peaks

majestic to silent lakes

and sunny sandy beaches

my mind also walks through bushes

the elegant elephants walked my trail

to make my soul, rushing faster

from the scorching sun, there so typical

yet, the stronger ironwood

and the sturdy satinwood

the costlier ebony, and other softer woods

including the saner neem

grew with the aggressive buddha’s bo tree;

the delay in hiring could make my heart

resent and renounce the cooler shade

of the shimmering poplar

and the silent weeping willows

the majestic oaks

with the cosmetic russian olives

and the friendly birches

© henry victor      27.07.2001

death gives life

death, the destruction of the bee

at such a great height

leads not to the end

but yields to a new hive

from the new honey will ooze

boosting novel life!

defeat, destruction of victory

after patient endurance

leads not to the end

but yields a fresh muse

transforming thoughts

into lines, prompting peace

© henry victor     23.01.2004

my ashes

deep inside my heart is a dark cave

where my locker is locked with the key

the digits of this number-lock buried

deep below in the depths of my mind

unknown to the wide world around

are these poems, ashes of my pain

and poise, a secret content that converse

silently while sitting in the unlit space

these hitherto unpublished prosaic

thoughts, will they be read in public

later, or further interred with my bone

will forever, for me, remain unknown

© henry victor                  29.05.2016

towards my home

i discarded

my comfortable couch

the cot i snoozed

and my job in university

that provided

me greater security

before i began packing

to go

on my way

i learnt the need

to leave behind much

i had been hauling

dropping further

my academic gown

i secretly cherished

with pride

i then omitted

shaving my beard

with rhythmic regularity

also omitting

trimming and grooming

my hair  

that was of no use

for my journey

steadily ignoring

the lust of my flesh

feeding not

much my body thirsted

and hungered

after a little while like a python

constricting my mind

i continue slithering

henry victor     16.08.2003

giving up

in my journey others call life

i kept giving up and let go

one by one my desires even piled grief

i naturally tightly held before

where my bed should exist

at the final point i firmly know

i will lose grip of that last thought

knowing that i let go my woe

now my struggle is to move

never to stop to pick or to pile

to be objective of what may impede

so i may forward go with no guile

© henry victor     05.04.2003

hoe, rake, and wheelbarrow

the hoe, the rake, and the wheelbarrow

my constant companions of yesteryear

provided me healing to body, mind

and my soul – transforming also land

the hoe, the rake, and the wheelbarrow

those simple tools with greater output

fed bigger mouths, with larger bellies

grounding me on the very real ground

the hoe, the rake, and the wheelbarrow

pen and pencil of the humble poor

writing on pages of mother earth

for me, the scholar to read, to live well

© henry victor     25.04.2003

two sides

to escape the cost, the pain

i sought the one sided coin

with which i could buy a ticket

for that sailing across my void

a journey from cradle to an empty pit;

generous compassion, i thought

i should transact to live my todays

dodging the travails of yesterdays

but purer the compassion more pain

was on the other side making gain

repeating that Nazarethean likeness

etching in soul, advanced with soreness

© henry victor

dance with peace

alone i stand short like that smashed glass

ready to be scattered, to be interred inside

a grave yard with my brokenness

in body, mind, soul, and human ties

but with full of sap, that thick and thin

life affirming and life giving spirit alive

with masks thick and thin discarded

for dance naked with no dress rehearsal

to continue into eternity, a land

absent of ego and confusions

with love reigning and love raining

continuously i shall dance with peace

© henry victor     12.03.2012

winter is great

i thank you for winter
that hides your flower
and with it all colors

i thank you for summer

that reveals your flower
and with it varied colors

i thank you for seasons

that, for sure, makes me value
flowers and colors fill my heart

© henry victor     22.07.2003

Note: Creative colours in the photograph are from Justin Victor (A child artist)!

 

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