My Many Ways
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, USA
When my marrow sees light at the end of the tunnel
After a long blackout in my soul,
My peaceful entrails sweep their feet off their head
And lie flat in the baby crib of no dread.
When my light of life breaks befalling beyond remedy,
And drags me to the gravel-lane,I foresee
Veins bubble with the opiate of blood along its course,
And I am strewn with the Mare’s tail of soulless force.
When you open the floodgates of peal and simpers thy flushing kisser,
I fly into the vault of skies with amusement like dragon dancer,
In the see-through climes of archangels;
And discourse with you the talks of souls.
When I sleep under hatch and see wolf at the door often
Glutted and its limbs even-tempered, I enkindle in the coffin
Of blues and in the black rue of my light brown face
I yell, ‘What am I, a bare book,a wallet penniless!’.
Of blues and in the black rue of my light brown face
I yell, ‘What am I, a bare book,a wallet penniless!’.
Good poem, Chakra. You are a book full of thoughts with immense love to literature. I wish one day,out of blues, you will have your account full of wealth.
Keep penning, bro !
Man, i really enjoyed the way how you presented. keep it up man. Wish you all the best…
“Sometime i missed him…!”
He was like a flowing wind
He was like a soaring kite.
Where he vanished, lets find him.
While the paths always leads us…
He always made his path…
Sometimes fell, sometimes balanced but always went ahead cheerfully..
He were always worried about tomorow/future.
He always celebrated today.
He lived every minutes fully.
From where did he come?
Where he vanished, touching our hearts
He was like shade in scorching sun
He was like an oasis in a vast desert
he was like the medicine for wounded heart.
U r simply the best.
Keep on writting.
GOOD JOB BRO, KEEP GOING U WILL GET SUCCESS IN UR LIFE BEST OF LUCK.
Your poetic skill is getting spirit day by day.