Face of Time

I am the face of time
Can you look at me
Without squirming inside?
My eyes change
As adjustments are made
The way you see me changes
You'll see.

I am the face of time
I no longer try to tell you
That which you wouldn't understand
Because you believe
As you take your stand
In the end result of your notions inclined

I don't speak because I know
I don't seek because I've grown
From the inside in patterns
I can't now express

I'm solid and patient
I'll wait 'til you've spent
Your years of currency
Towards what you expect
I'll be here for sure
When you come to me after
Wanting to know
If I've known your disasters

Wanting to borrow
The time that you've spent
Only to find you've been banking
Pure knowledge of
An infinite kind
Of folly and heartaches
No intentional design
Just a unique catharsis
From intentions sought blind.

-Kelly Voelker

The Roots of What is Sane

On a road trip or at home
A companion
Busies himself in the periphery
Talks about his day
Discusses his thoughts or
Sits silently nearby

In the corner
Orchids bloom
Plants grow
At work
a cat sleeps
on the inbox
at my desk

All the while I drift
Seeking newness
Seeking what's next
What new things
Are growing, appearing
As surprise ingredients
For this day and the next

My peripheral companions
I scarcely acknowledge
As I check digital inboxes
and appear in the feed
of my friends as they scroll
to see what new, what's old

It has to do with trust and hope
I concluded only to find
Trust means both

In whom and what I trust
Within my circle of home and
At my portal to the world
Simple domestic routine
Harmonious and pristine
Easy to maintain
The roots of what is sane.

-Kelly Voelker


Definition of Periphery:
 the perimeter of a circle or other closed curve

Definition of Trust:

1. reliance on the integrity, strength, ability, surety, etc., of a person or thing; confidence.

2. confident expectation of something; hope.

Definition of sane

1: proceeding from a sound mind : RATIONAL

2: mentally soundespecially : able to anticipate and appraise the effect of one's actions

3: healthy in body

January Village

Bring me soon

A fresh white sheet

With no festoons

A clear and open road

A bright fantastic snow

For my heart rests best

When options are new

Complications few

Chimneys on rooftops

Sending signals of

Peace and warmth

That those inside

Are provided for

And stood by

Always as a village does

Together, winter’s trudge

Through cold then slush

Inviting all to take solace

In the simple pleasures

Owned and honest.

-Kelly Voelker

An Appeal to the Sun

You are missed
The grey days extend
Far as the frontier horizon
Never seems to bend

We know you are contracted
To focus elsewhere more
During this time of the year
We understand the terms

Yet our eyes half open
Much the day long
As our filtered daylight
Seems like a flat backdrop

For some it simplifies
Their day's required tasks
Fewer details, fewer ties
Our known annual last reprise

I somehow feel neglected though
Your radiance is missed
A depth it warms

Although my lament is futile
To express it helps to ease the chill
Longing for your gentle gold
Cheer and joy when shown through snow
Making beautiful the cold.

-Kelly Voelker

Just Wondering

Is this town the sum of
Declining statistics?
Is it a matter of linguistics?
Is our town protective, isolationist
Emotionless, deflationist?

Are we a frontier town
Going from brick to sheet metal?
Is our town a barracks for
Our local schools growing
Young adults for other locales?

Are we a mailing address for
corporations and legal entities?
Actual offices and building space
occupied by stored items not in use?

Are we streamlining our town
For more practical purposes?
Will the last open businesses
Be the mortuary and care center?
Will the churches remain to
Console the grieving and bitter?

Are we tired from unseen parasites
Routinely living off the cream
Our fleeting lives deal
As purveyors of labor
Just taxes no zeal?

Spend some time dreaming
How the face of our town
Will look in your best idea
Thriving through believing or
Neglected, shielded and sleeping?

We aren't leaders
We're just wondering
Where the leaders have gone
We mill around within our routines
Wondering where this will lead
What, who, where, when?