blending

by the river i bend down

to note down

in my note-book

for i hear the water flow

but see not the bottom of bed

not even knee deep

i breathe the fresh air

but creeps that ugly doubt

i think i feel the pollutant

inside the hairy cave

as my eyes gaze across

the floating smoke

but breeze brings closer

the tall grass

while the flower on crown kisses

my cheeks

does it also say:

take it easy

now i become truly aware

of my ignorance

of the music of another language

earlier my eardrums

did vibrate

for songs of winged friends

and my eyes

transcending colour

determines my career and size

of my worn out wallet

there, once i saw

the transcendental unity

the perfect blending of north

with south

with a clout of the latter

in the human litter by the river

it read, SUN-RYPE:

apple banana with citrus pectin

and natural flavor

a perfect dried fruit snack

recommended, also for those striving hard

to keep harm count low

henry victor      18.06.2003

mediocre muse

risking as little as possible

his muse is his timid tortoise

moving very little from his house

providing shelter and security

sitting indoor with closed eyes

and plugged ears and tight lips

he fears the hearing of his own snoring

loosing, at the end, a joy of journeying

that would otherwise invite much applause

as received at the end of the mythical race

where Aesop awarded a gold to the tortoise

that thumped the over-confident hare! 

© henry victor     25.02.2006

Blacky, the Stray Dog

Blacky, that’s how my little daughter
Caringly christened Bruno, the stray dog
After months we also met his owner
Who loved much, the four-legged creature

Blacky, at dawn would slip out of our yard
Even when we tied him with the strongest chord
After sun set he will need, never to be told
To keep guard of our unfenced fold

Blacky, had two homes to guard
With two titles, ‘pet’ and ‘stray’, together to hold
Daytime faithful to owner, chasing, always, any burglar
Nighttime compassion to stranger, driving, every evil intruder

Blacky, we needed so much in that garden
Closer to that lake, with no homes firmly planted
Pitched blackness was all, in night, that was seen
With tales of haunting genii that weren’t benevolent

Henry Victor 17.07.1999

My Mother

Older Army Sister was my mum
To many at Anbuvalipuram
New sub division named by Tamil erudite
Kuntrat Kudi Adhiahlaar in his visit

Dickie’s Mum was she when my brother
Made his mark in town that did not bother
To shun him out in spite of his vigor
Making things very heavy for those sober

Joe’s Mum she became later when death
Transformed life that not even tough wealth
Failed to achieve in that one lifetime
With that name mother passed into life prime!

Henry Victor 12.05.2003