To attain Cupid
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
1. To reach out unto the Divine
In love as in prayers, to the Cupid, is a destiny.
How would one so then do?
His heart, as truest and feeling as Cupid, must be;
His life a devotion must be,
His eyes should luxuriate
In the melody of Cupid,
His being should quest endless love
However further from the normal it is.
2. Poet
The aura around— the floral and fauna, the songs of birds, the unending chant of a shore, the passing twilight, the dusk, the silence— created you.
This life a drop of dew
That hangs in a taro leaves, transitory and short-lived,
Could in moment’s split pass.
To you a sound make a passionate oeuvre
That sound sounds like a melody
Played in the twilight as opera;
To you a river’s chant flows
With smooth finish of a song,
And even the darkest of hour glows
With excitement and utter fun.
Thou art poet, separated by art,
Special so made by art
That shan’t from thy heart depart;
Thou rise like kites with thy spirit
And that the world sigh with a deep breath of relief
With thy strength of a pen.
3. Inner Beauty
Inward beauty at no time age
And neither does it with age fade;
It as eternal stuff are, forsaken not
For not it is a trifling phenomenon of heart.
No outward facade makes our heart’s aching desire,
No heart’s perfect without intrinsic beauty,
A beauty in the flesh,
Outward visible,
Does not always
have inward divinity.
Beauty is what our eyes seek
But the true one our hearts;
Our heart yearns for beauty, sublime and pure,
Like the purity flaunted in the aura, untouched, envisaged by the heart as the truest stuff.
4. Devotee of Love
A true devotee of love perishes not
He who gives in his will for love
from the heart;
He’s a true worshipper of love
Who’s uncovered the heaven above.
He loves whole world and casts out evil thoughts
And shun hate, avarice and all the lust
For things; he gets the truth through world:
he dwells within unity, with faith and never from faith depart;
Faith is what you do everyday with integrity.
That daily value is what’s all
that lives as a whisper that you hear from the distance.
5. Music of Life
Does the music come and does it then go
As lights going to the dark
And happiness dwindles so
When the life a music doesn’t embark.
It is as plain and simple as that music of life fades
As though the fading of last vestige of thing
And as things life then doesn’t beget
To give sheen to this being
Longing for a sheen of life.
6. Mind
Envisaged by minds do our stories go
And evermore does it reecho—
Our stories of the play-riddle of existence.
Does our mind to us count first
And does the mystery count
For what’s life if not immaterial thing as it is—the ideas of minds— for us?
You may define it in whatever way,
The world in its figment of imagination sway.
Mind seeks light, vital and unending,
to usher this mortal frame;
Mind is a glint through which our brain functions;
Mind is a gist of all essence.
7. Spirit
Kept under wraps
Our spirit seeks for a way out
To frequent in the being of us;
Spirit flows and flaunts like a wind
Disentangled in the azure above.
Body a pleasure of things seek
And pleasure does an epoch of life be
But an spirit, in the fulfillment of life,
Goes on and on,
Seeking for higher truth, higher reality;
Spirit is that which quests for eternal truth.
8. Florets of Fancy
Life through spiral goes
Weaving florets of fancy
And then it seeks for a dream
To usher us to a path of perfection.
For, if only for a short life we could dwell
And dwell like an empty vessel,
We could not have fancies.
As humans, we dwell with innumerable fancies;
These fancies are ingredients of life
Too, to make a gateway to our destiny.
If we could dwell without fancies
Could we then a dream never achieve;
We dwell with fancies and are we thus humans— with desire and wants, dreams and destiny.
9. The Art of Living
We go through ups and downs
But our art of life does count,
And does then the play of its lute;
We play with life, either foul or good.
Art of living is what we as humans seek,
In the world prodigious and bleak,
To guide us through windswept state;
To falter and to go a long way is never too late.
With all attempts we dare to create artistic life
To let our art in the future revive;
Artistic living is what guides us
To let us never evermore distract.
10. When the Soul Longs
When in the soul shall I uncover light
And in its pathway trail for delight,
Let I be set perplexed, marred,
I shall with soul’s conscience alone be lured
When heart sleeps and soul awake
When all falsehood goes and so do statements fake,
I shall with all its permeating grasp
The essence of life, before the time elapse.