mother earth

the earth

hides beneath

all that is worth

to worthy

she opens her veil

yielding freely

like the mother

to her babe

yielding tenderly

from within

becoming

vulnerable

also for rape

as happens

to earth

© henry victor     13.01.2003

focus

two roads diverged at a junction, as i drove

my Ford Focus wagon on the snow
stormy afternoon: one was highway 651
and the other the Grizzly Trail

with no car behind i slowed down to pause

but was sorry i could not travel both, turning
then, to one looked a white carpet with no trace
of tired tires, or tracks of worn out trucks

with only a discrete distinct focus in mind:

shortest route, quickest way home!
and in any case i was no Robert Frost
to take the one less traveled by!

now, i doubted whether i should return

to the trodden black path, until another overtook
my focus: a deep desire to learn the art
to drive also in the slippery arctic, the Polar Trail!

knowing the way to a colored

an insecure immigrant
can be slippery and cold
altering, again, my further focus

© henry victor     10.01.2003

loss of my land

i was proud of my land

water clogged and swampy

cost me a small song

but providing a great opportunity

to establish my nonconformity

i cherished the three trees that came

with the swamp: a young Palmyra palm

a Neem, and a Wood Apple

supplying me shade and hope

i saw the trees growing faster

as i fertilized and poured plenty of water

from my own well sunk in my plot

that i, with my own hands, proudly dug

now i think of King Coconuts i planted

watered, and carefully cared

from assaults of those crawly beetle

attacking palms, my babies thrived so well

and of these assets i constantly muse

day dreaming of this past slog

i, at the end, exchanged for a nose stud

causing, within, much anger of the loss

© henry victor     14.02.2003

songs

 

stranger’s friendly gesture, an associate’s

gracious act, a closer relative’s kind word

a gentle smile are those that indeed

in me provoke a song of delight

a simple betrayal, a calculated

crucifying, a determined denial

and with that an atrocious desertion

in me provoke a song of protest

words of wisdom, a provocative thought

a challenging message, an alternative

vision for that poor perishing universe

these provoke a song of inspiration

© henry victor     27.02.2003

daring to act

daring determination of simple folk

to perform greater humane services
to humble and broken humans, attracts
my attention and into songs i break

four friends of the paralytic man

ascending the roof to dig, to open
and let down the cripple to receive
healing, indeed, is a heroic act

stopping, stooping down to the half dead

on path traversed by the ghastly beast
and waiting not for a tax receipt
before donating to the inn, sure, is neat

© henry victor     23.02.2003

she is outgrown

she is, for my love, outgrown

no longer, with my love, can i own

in any case, in my yard i did not seed

her; for certain, she is, a sturdy weed

now i must let her go, her kind

for her to multiply, and my mind

with heart, and soul together bind

and let go my memories all behind

and like a drift-wood me flow forward

making sure, the river bed does not hold

me back tempting with a toddler like hug

until beyond that ocean, surely i, out-log

© henry victor               23.08.2017

pissing

 

the white man laughs loud when that Iraqi

muslim fundamentalist says that Moses

did not murder the Egyptian but Moses’

breathing that made man fall like sukiyaki!

the white bastard smilingly agrees with me

when i spin a yarn mockingly the dumb

Americans did not drop a nuclear bomb

but slipped from hand of pilot on Nagasaki!

the white rascal thinks he can hoodwink

all the time, and all the inhabitants

from east of Atlantic to Hiroshima

where he keeps pissing to create link!

© henry victor     07.03.2003