Breeze of Tides
Welkin Siskin lives in Seattle, Washington. He is the poet of varied nature, who writes on various themes. Poetry for him is the healing ointment of a heart destitute of vision.
He believes that poetry is the play of words, the change of verbs into nouns; the game of words surging through the heart's inside.
His poetry is the yearning for freedom, love, life, and the expression of the Nature that adorns the Universe- the mysterious eternity of the Infinite.
Welkin Siskin
Washington, America
- Breeze of Tides
The world has stood on faith
The undying real consciousness
And with faith has world moved
To this stage; this order is not ambivalent—it’s not surreal.
The stage in which we play our life’s circus is ambivalent, surreal and good as well.
This circus is led
By the breeze of tides.
For an instant we dwell
In this world vast and uncanny
With ego and avarice, love and compassion,
And within the short period of time we languish with varied anomalies,
Treading on diverse pathways.
We walk between the rock and a hard place,
Gather thistles of life and expect pickles;
We are led with ambitions.
Equally, in the phase of life,
We are led with despair.
Human story is somewhere forgotten,
Somewhere remembered.
Our lives are untold tales
Where each one of us is a plot-line,
An excerpt, a protagonist.
2. Moksha
Two hearts and one soul long
For the ecstasy of time;
These times are time-governed;
These moments create a chime.
When in life and afterlife do the delights haunt,
And the ghost of light remains calm
And the whole gives in and shuns
the purity through which we were born,
These veins shall in the long-run seek
Blood of the Moksha
To attain the purification of the soul.
3. Fervors of Eyes
Disfigured by time does the body wither,
And yet the Time tarnishes and dirties this flesh,
the heart and eye of romancers endure and stay.
Eyes tho’ are diminutive,
And the heart broken oft,
The lovers see not through the heart alone
But with their eyes— everything.
And in doing so, they discover everything
Cast out as desire, put aside as trifle anomaly;
And they build a nest of paradise
With fervors of eyes.
4. Transience
Do our lives fall short
Of fare of love
If we with two minds dwell—
With hate and love.
And yet our make is of varied phenomena, must we with love-emotion dwell.
For fair eyes, fair lives are
But of love, we must navigate
the rudder of the boat
Of our journey with love.
5. Bliss and Moksha
Happiness is when life-blossoms ripe,
Bliss is when the fruit is all ready
Ecstasy is when you savor the fruit.
Nirvana is when the fruit digest
And Moksha is when it recycles as an ecosystem.
6. Life is a Bittersweet Episode
In the circus of life
We beat and we are mazed in;
This race is not unsettling.
For we race on the pitch of time.
Dreams and desire to win come
And we race through roads safer and luckier we think,
And build a nest of paradise we wanted to; this process is unending for us, for we are humans.
7. Mine of Visions
Behold on the heavens
The stars are merrily dancing;
This dancing is the mine
Of light dance: dancing to the tune
Of light;
This light is the mine of delight.
Behold the shimmer
Of moon with still silence, a placid nature;
This shimmer is the fire of life,
Giving to us a countless mine of vision.
8. I
I am a rolling boulder
On wheels
Rolling—-wandering aimlessly
To a place never gone before.
9. The Omnipotent
One does to the life
Of mine bestow
The dreams of untold mosaics;
These mosaics are the gateways
Through which I enter the room
Of endless dreams:
Dreams of the norther stars,
Tidy and orderly, easy to catch.
10. Withering Tides
Life falls gently
Like the droplets of a canopy;
this falling is unending from birth.
Life, then, in the similar manner, goes
Stage by stage;
this stage is inevitable, undoable.
With nude flesh you come
To the world as drama
And met hundred forms;
These forms are sustainers.
Culture and language comes,
And do teach you values
To acculturate and coexist,
And do in these ideas of value
And culture you grow
To be a man of worth.
11. A Reality (I)
For transient time we dwell
And we dwell like moon and the soil
Searching for what’s called fulfillment.
We dwell with consciousness
In the realm of reality,
And as a tiny moth we gather
To beautify this short life.
12. A Reality ( ii)
We dwell for a short period of time,
And in search for a life we undergo vast difficulties;
This life and time are the marring of life.
For the reality is acrid
As the Time’s play is oft ploy;
We forsake the magic-laden tides
Of time and we desert all that
we befriend with and we live our name alone.
Amidst the dreams and the reality
We live like the serpent of the dark.
13. Eternal Bond
I shall not fall behind time
To witness the lasting of our love
For we are both into it deep
And we shall bask in the sun and so shall we with love sleep;
This love’s from the heaven above.
I shall not fall behind time
To predict the eternity of togetherness
For we with all we retain love
To cast out narrow lanes
And travel the broader pathways together.
I shall not fall behind time
To dream in this love
For the passage and the dales,
The rivulets and streams chant
It as a divine sound vibration.
14. Transgressions
We have gone through what love forbids
And goodness refuses to allow;
We have transgressed our stance
And in doing so, distracted.
But to go distracted is life—
And to piece together the strength
Of each vein is the valor of a human.
15. Love and Life
I shall never let love slip
In the dungeons of hate
And shan’t let it be further from the truth.
I shall with full force of conscience
guide the strings of it
To pass through groves of illusion.
For to love is a gift, a blessing,
To steer clear of falsehood,
And to stand as one,
I shall hold this love until eternity.
16. Writing
My writing is a test
to harness what my mind retains.
My poetry is the forceful remnant instincts
that humans are imparted by the Maker.
The last wish of a man is writing
To elucidate his environs: to give life to his thoughts and his aura.
My writing is a witness
To create purity of soul;
Writing purify human minds.
17. Hate
Hate is not what I aspire to
For in hate does a life die:
Every possibility of love fades,
And every chances of life
Lie flat on the ground of misfortune.
Hate is not what we should strive to,
For in hate does a good-living ideas fade
And untold miseries come as
A surge-tide of unfulfillment.
18. Ego and Hate
If you can give what is not given
And get what is not got
You are most likely not just satisfied
But you’re endowed with what you are meant for.
If you are dead and you want to live,
You must break the chain of ego,
Hate that writhe your inner conscience!
19. Darkness
The darkness passes from
trees to trees
Boughs to boughs—
Flowers of the Asteraceae family,
The camomiles, impregnate redolence of night.
Bringing one gasp of breath
Waving, leaning towards the curve,
The wind spread wide—from pillar to pole;
the heavens, starry with lights, bring about a sheen to the planet.
All of a sudden the wind darts
And the shadow mirages creep to the shore of the heart.
The aura becomes inpatient
And the impatient heart rushes
In a sudden move
To discover the wilderness
And kiss the skyline of the planet.
20. Good Seeds
Wherein the sowers sow
The seeds of various ends
How not have lives grown there!
These ends are the state of highest knowledge.
Wherein extremities of ideas dwell,
There the storms swell;
Extremities of mind is distressing.
Wherein, but, ideas
Of decent and pure form reside,
Therein lies the dream, falsehood hides.
21. Humans
You have to cross the frailty of life
Giving a hope to the world you dwell in.
Today, the world around seeks thy hand
That scratches the soil of toil
And stretches the mighty limbs of love.
Like the stars fallen in the space
To give sheen to the rayless night,
You have to produce light
To guide things of various nature.
For the darkness have risen
from one pole to another,
From hamlets to cities.
To awaken scathed heart,
To ward off scattered spirits
O, man! You have to give life
to the spring-tree of hope
22. A Way of Hope
The distance lengthens.
The spirit disperses, its eyes widen.
The nocturnal lute touches your name
Looking for a way of hope;
the quiet night spends its time
Like the delight of the Garden of Eden;
Bringing a smell to the stars.
Axis through the corners of the world,
The moon shines with full swing.
The mind becomes restless in the search.
Without knowing it, the pulse sings choruses of untold songs
The wind impregnates in your whereabouts.
In this time, despite everything, the night is silent and calm
Like the stiff boulders hanging on
the cliffs of the hilltop.
23. Humans
He’s a speck lingering in the dark-light world
With ample victories, ample faults;
He’s a lost boy scratching his head
to find a way forward.
He who penetrates the dense and thick of the universe,
The talisman to the world species,
And, equally, a misfortune to other species,
He, who molds the twine of existential path
And journey through sweetness and scathe
Is but a man;
He’s the seeds sower
To make the garden of love
And as a symbol of dove
In the home of million species.
24. Going Time
Where do the longings meet its ends,
Where do the unfulfilled tales of life
Discover its lasting nest,
How fruitful and unsparing the time!
Like the cloudless night,
How open the delight of love-jaunt! How sweet the memories—
both bitter and sweet—
Like a bird’s tweet!
How sweet a blend of memories
and love
and a fulfilled night!
25. Lode of Inklings
Were we with love alone born
And could we with all fault shun
The hate that comes out our doings
Would we give birth to many inklings
Of peaceful living.
From time immemorial to date
We dwelt with two concerns-
Making a living and searching a mysticality.
With self-observed behavior we dwelt
For centuries__
With egocentric ideas we dwelt.
As the rift of manhood and virtue,
Like the cleft of broken things,
As the fissure of two narrow objects
Like the breaking objects
We distracted in the pathways.
And we are stranded
In making the world a beautiful place
To live in.
Like an insect in a poplar plant we are
Headed to making a survival out
Of what we gather as fare,
like love, like philanthropy and humanity.
26. Cumbersome Tides
Even when the weather disfavored us and trampled us,
Even when everything made it hard for us to think about the time we were spending,
Even when time made the circus of life,
It twisted its band and made us humiliate it;
we moved to achieve a change.
Life is metamorphosis.
Life is transition.
Life is change.
From a small event to a sudden success,
Life comes as a barrage of stories.
With transience and impermanence.
In these transiences and impermanences,
Life slides its extremities to the ground of vast fields.