Welkin Siskin’s Poetry Series -15

Welkin Siskin
Washington, America

1.
Converse in this passing hours with parable
and wheeze; euphoria and glee, and delight,
Let it be harkened by hearts of all
And as a caught beauty by all sight.

Talk of the lively spirits; talk of the vim and vigor
Of teenage, youth and adulthood so very missed
The stories of foreboding nature that all gets lured
Those days where fleshy world ever kiss

The existence of our thoughts; let wheezes never die,
For in such wheezes alone the beauty of lives lie.

2.
Harken it through the window of life,
A decanting whisper flow in each drizzle
From the mouth of space, evermore rife
Stretching out over world, one and all.

3.
And if love should procreate hate,
And hate should create crankiness and ego
Why do for long, prolonged hours wait
Execute your life, give a point and veto

To come clear out of disarray and mess
And figure out the best in love and life,
For if life led be like death, an unknown guess
Between what’s true, between facing and strife,

Let thy love die out in womb and never get produced,
And yet, if it has to produce from bad creation
Let it a vivid nomenclature give and introduce
As genuine love brimmed over with what’s full of lesson.
Be it a love of a romantic full of feelings,
Yet unknown might be its fount of inklings.

4.
In these hours
where the tides have
reached out
to the fullness
of a day,
I recall how strangely does the dusk
Take its glory and merge into
The unfeeling trends of time.
I rethink of a twilight that’s going
To kiss the dark in some hours from now.
I think of how twilight vanishes into
An ending sorrow of a night.
And how the sorrow of a night kisses
wee hours, and eventually, burst
out like flowers
Of a delightful morn,
with the blushing reddening
orange of the early daybreak.

5.
I’m coming to a journey impassable and pathless
With no substance, neither beauty.
With neither good or bad fate

And in-between. I hide from where to go
And I go not where I must go
From what to do and what not to do,
I so many things create, so many dos.

Yet I wait my being to get the pointlessness of time,
And in such hours, fragile and forlorn,
I somehow make a chime, and rhyme,

I seek out for a point of time that that brings in delight
And carry through in me a sixth sense and sight.

6.
What in purest love matters if not the heart’s share
Of passion without letting it go bare.
Our heart for perpetuity derailed be
And sloughed our hearts with filths be,
Never, never love this be as alchemical
As some untold stories, fanciful and whimsical.
I might in any given time be absented from passion,
And with the lack of passion may I bear no witness to love’s lesson,
But bear in minds that this love shall bloom
In the cold stall of backyard with nature’s boon.

7.
Where are the whispers of sunshine
of yesterday
Lost like primal artifact
of something unheard of,
And where are the lost hours of today
Ripped apart by the paws, wild and callous?
Where are the deathless songs of morrow,
like Rapids in the shrubs and tendrils
Lost from the grip of a man?

8.
An absent love does in going in halves
Come up juvenile and immortal,
And absent a sharing in such a way, lapse
Be love, and never can it epitomize all.

And heart be that which is bereft of touch,
And pulse forevermore cease to beat
And yet there is hate pretty, pretty  much
Love whatever form and yet be, it befits.

Let there such be case-hardened
And there be ruthless spur as hard as anything
But in all appearances, after all the bad shunned,
There’s always a soft touch in love, and souls’ links.

9.
I have enlivened you
right through my life,
And in doing so made immortal:
Timeless like the eternity,
I have been to the deep
in search of you
In the cavern of life
To give you the sunshine.

I have revived you
In every part of my life:
Let the stage of life come to a close,
In every apse I have been to,
I have named you as the final vestige
Of what’s called life’s longing.

10.
When in silence did I wish
Thy name a witness-proof of a genuine love
And surging through the heart thy love never dismissed,
And never put to filths, and never, never sloughed,

I find it evergreen like the Alpines,
Where untoward, immaculate beauty lies
Wherein one discovers a truth and finds
A world beautiful, and as time flies

To simply enjoy the untrodden, indivisible lanes,
A world devoid of time, space and the heavens.

11.
Rail against all hate
Become reconciled to life—do not do late.
Life’s most invaluable thing is love—
To share among all species coming from above.
Life girdles with all love—let life become a Mantra,
To come along through many, many life’s strata.

12.
Innumerable are words
And innumerable the turn of phrases
But he longed for what’s a love’s rush
With all beauty, with all elegance dressed

The word of the heart—LOVE—
that’s not mere word but a deep feeling
Expressed, articulated and explained inkling
Eventually experienced, and undergone—it is from above.

Dying it may seem, love is perpetual and unbroken so
Made by the ways trailed through by Plato.
Be love and yet demarcated by two hearts,
Assuage all the worlds, and it moves and never parts.

13.
Many, many memories are yet to recall
Where when the twilight fades into darkness and fall
At the edge of the earth, darkly led, orange-dim;
I recalled hundreds of isles taken by these limbs:

Many, many memories are yet to remember
Where when there a hundred of things lured
This heart; each thing had its own beauty
To fetch love, to fetch life, to fetch sublimity.