What Do I Sound Like Inside Your Mind?

For those who don't know me
When reading my poems
What do I sound like?
In your mind on your own
You must make up a sound
As you're reading the lines
Fashioning an image of
What someone like me
Would sound like if fluent
And speaking to thee
I never read aloud my own poems
It feels unnecessarily naked
Like my voice cannot own
The sentiments shared here
From an ancient wise soul
Sarcastic about society's
Strongholds and norms
Yet hopelessly loving
Trace sentiments hidden
In mundane experience
Each horse had been ridden
Each path had been trod
A great depth of experience
Eager to respond
A witness and sympathizer
From the mysterious beyond.

-Kelly Voelker

When I Finally Relaxed

When I finally relaxed
My body had changed
Not holding my breath
Not being so vain
When I finally relaxed
My hair had extended
Full of shine with no style
As genetics intended
When I finally relaxed
I expanded inside
Blanketing feelings
Evicting my pride.

-Kelly Voelker

The Thrill of Spill

Once my bucket was finally full
I gushed and overflowed
Onto the page and
Onto everyone in range

Then I am once again
A little less than full
Still once again

Sorry for spilling
Some people
Don't like to get wet
Only when they are
Expecting it

-Kelly Write Away

Feelings Blend

Life slowly rolls out details for us
Making the complexities simple
Our perspectives change slowly
This causes disorientation
When attempting to revisit
Old places and people we knew
Our memories inaccurate and few
Unlikely people move into iconic positions
Iconic people move into helpless positions
Our peers of yesterday are leaders of today
Yet in their faces is seen
The person they were as we
Realize what was can last
Even as perspectives mask
The essence of people now and then
Is a beautifully witnessed feelings blend.

-Kelly Voelker

Treading Time

Treading water seems to imply walking on it.
I'm treading time
Many days I feel I have already dialed it
Forward and back
But this time, this place I'm treading
Must be important
A chapter that is not understood
A few words not noticed
My character's entire reason
For being part of the plot
Instead of just mentioned by name
The scenery keeps changing
But I'm still here marking the days
Treading the time
No one can guess the outcome
They soldier on as if they know
Their images seem to sharpen with age
As mine fades ever more quickly
Maybe it is tiring to keep turning back the wheel
Of a vessel which is being pulled hard the other way
Resistance only exists as my own pondering
Questions within questions
Where everything seems certain
Except for what I'm doing here.