dogs barked

dogs barked a lot last night

i know they saw

which i refused to see at night

as i rolled on bed at night

i also pulled to hold tight

my blanket

my eyelids too

closing very tight

my eyes though feel not

the sleep i much desired!

at dawn, from my bed i’m out

and in hand an empty wallet

but

with eyes

now

wide open!

henry victor     18.08.2007

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

arms to embrace

you have given me much moons

and plenty of many an opportunity

yet i remain absolutely empty

but pleading from you for more!

awake now my soul! for it is time

to rise from sleep and slumber

to un-hoard the clutter of desire

in that nothing, the ego, act as if all

instead stretch your arms to embrace

the homeless, the hermits, the marginal

and the bleeding, walking also to the jail

to set free the broken-wing birds to fly!

© henry victor       02.01.2016

by the waters of the Pacific

by the waters of the Pacific

i sat down and wept
as i remembered the hundreds
of immigrants cheated
and let down by a culture of bigotry

on the weeping willows

i hung up my violin
and my cymbals refusing
to sing the songs of plenty and freedom

in valleys of the Rockies

and in spacious prairies my Caucasian
hosts wanted me to sing
some songs of joy

but, how shall i sing

the song of joy and freedom
in a land where the colour of your skin
matters the most

if i forget my rights let my right hand

wither and if i forget my honour
let my tongue cleave to the roof
of my mouth

if i do not remember your discrimination

or, if i do not set my rights above my joy
let me perish in this alien land

blessed is that one who takes up the cause

of colured immigrants and does not dash
their hope on the rock of prejudice

henry victor     27.05.2002