sandwiched

sandwiched between the jagged immortality

and the feeble mortality

i carry within me the great sea

with her pounding waves

on its sandy soil

are scattered shinning shells

where even a silent shrimp

find a safe home

in surrounds of rocky reeves

while elsewhere

with those changing seasons

including the fallen leaves

and broken branches

the abandoned agricultural implements

witness the deer carcass

protected by a coniferous forest

henry victor      11.09.2003

my roads

i have traveled many roads

highways and byways of varied size

and countless length

i have often journeyed with much load

and at times with none

hardly an extra change of clothes

many nights i have slept on roads

counting the uncountable stars

while being stung by beastly bugs

and malicious mosquitoes

in my sojourns i have met numerous spirits

including Buddha, Jesus, and Muhammad

frequently in perfect harmony

and at times at squabbles and war

in these wanderings

roads that were not closed i cherished much

that i may reach home like a mother bird

to feed the nestlings

but now a road that is closed is what i desire

that i may never leave home

© henry victor     09.09.2003

grace i seek

i seek that grace

that sought me at Calvary

i seek that grace

that paid for my release

i seek that grace

that erected an altar in my heart

i seek that grace

that ordained my soul a priest

i seek that grace

that is absent in hypocrisy

i seek that grace

that overflows in common sense

© henry victor     03.09.2003

bird feeder

my new bird feeder, another

avowed addition to my extended solidarity

with the community of winged creatures

had a larger opening at the bottom

for seed to easily slip

soon i realized i made a hole

in my wallet too

i, therefore, covered the gap

with little pebbles to control

the outflow of my loonies

realizing later the very act

of my calculated charity

with all my good intentions

towards my little friends

in fact, i built a solid wall

to shut them out

© henry victor     09.09.2003

the three magpies

 

three magpies, first i thought

invaded my lawn

inhabited usually but now deserted

by those numerous nattering sparrows

the tiny birds i fed

to their full stomach

ungrudgingly with my generosity

i curtailed towards my kith, kin and kind

first i considered the three magpies

as intruders bent to take advantage

of my kindness

declared in my new bird-feeder

but soon as the three ignored

and went past my exhibit

i realized myself a stupid selfish glutton

that wants not to lose my control

© henry victor     15.09.2003

few of my poet friends

 

remarkable are my many poet friends

winning, among friends, some fame

a greater reputation in their own minds

though struggling to earn +a decent income

foremost among these dancers is Zinga

self-righteous, self-proclaimed a Nigerian chief

an angry immigrant to a terrain too unfriendly

he now like a sober sage proclaims, affirmatively

the old English maxim: ‘all that glitters is not gold’

justifying also his unwillingness to change with times

hence denying, within self, traces of a chameleon

as i move on after failing to uncurl the dog’s tail

then comes Brimstone, the brilliant bask

singing morning, noon and night from work to escape

arguing the need to speak truth through a mask

claiming, unlike me, a Tamil writing in English

he also thinks the language of his colonial master

he is a migrant poet, and his face is behind a mask!

Leister is the other, licking the others’ liquor glasses

basking in coffee shops, establishing his charisma

only after failing to find his worth elsewhere

but in a land that alienates the new arrival

he networks with the underdogs

constantly kicking George’s ass

thriving on the exploits of his comrades!

last but not the least is a damsel, Dorothy

writing with the pen name Dana

claiming to be like the beaver

a true daughter of the soil

with little education and more with her skin

very confident that her poetry, for sure

will fix peace in the warring world!

© henry victor     18.09.2003

imitating the cougar

help me imitate the patient placidness

and the love that let goes

inbuilt in psyche controlling the strong

the swift, and the slender mother cougar

let the same permeate my mind and nerves

pervading my life even as i prepare

my only daughter for her life ahead

knowing, at the end i cannot live

my daughter’s life!

help me, then, learn my lessons

well from the truly self-governing

sage of the jungle: the cougar!

© henry victor     20.09.2003