glory of nothingness

 

silly thoughts and worthless dreams flooded my mind

yesterday, and this morning too, like pounding waves

leaving me to lick my lips to taste its saltiness;

vain glory of poetry is that which i am seeking

in this world, walking on roads paved with eggshells

and leading to nowhere, an absent heaven!

poised moments do surface in that ocean, but to dive

leaving the shore and light into the darkness of depth

a Dutch courage i lack; for what if the road does not continue

to that peace and nothingness i crave with great intensity;

hell if i end up without Sylvia Plath being there!

© henry victor     24.02.2006

nothing

nothing i regard with importance

to nothing that i am now a slave

gold i seek not, women i care not

triumph i prize not, kings too stir me not

collapse frightens me not, nor poverty

wealth and lust keep aging with time

leading, sure, to death before i die

teaching me i last longer than these

even eternity is beyond me to grasp

and i crave not for that nonentity

myself is, indeed, only lees and scum

and it’s not worth that careful caring

© henry victor     03.05.2003

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

dew on my lawn

like my mouth watering after a spicy dish

when my stomach is empty, last evening
my heart craved that highway leading
to nature’s carving the million-year-sculpture

that unambitious hard work, Grand Canyon!

but my sober soul suggested something else
to run around prompting a Nikon, or a Canon
a pair of better eyes and mind, a larger book

to photo-write, to note, to store to play later

and with others, also advertise my, already
overweight and extra-large ego lost
this morning like the dew on my lawn!  

21.07.2014

a piece of poop

i see my nothingness clearly yet becoming
a bodhisattva is nothing but a mirage
unreal water good not for quenching
thirst of self, tired of search among poop

lee and scum people leave behind in cup
unlike that of the creatures bigger but smaller
brains for palaeontologists and the likes
to construct and instruct me the path

to nirvana, that extinction, a blowing out
to me a smaller a crow on the tree top
that worthless chicken poop in a fowl cage
walking on ground with shoes with no grip

making the walking tedious and frustrating
looking always down on the ground
unable to see awesome scenes around
to spark fire in heart, an energy for soul

henry victor     21.02.2013

nothingness to nothingness

my trembling and tottering

on the brink of nothingness
all around and within me
prompt me to turn towards you
like my cacti to the sun

but you remain silent
unknowable despite all
my years of seeking you through
the many mythos and philosophia
floating like rain clouds in the oikumene

but did i not see you gazing
in the direction of nazareth
the man wearing only a loin cloth
booted out from this world

so i turn to him in hope
only to find him emptying
his wallet and his soul
leaving no room for bloating

he permits only heaven’s winds
to bring whispers to his whisperings
and clouds to float him back into that
nothingness the world battles to fill