Patterns and Depth

I AM the patterns and the depth I sweep away in a flurry of gust All the papers and tokens kept I accelerate the rust On ironclad beliefs you trust I change the weather In front of and behind To rearrange the plans you make To show you undulations of fate And spread apart the leaves you rake. -Kelly Voelker

Fishing for Answers

The thought that the worst

Could contain all the best

The thought that I might be

A little bit wrong

Even this thought felt

Like a new favorite song

The thought of recovery

After sickness and death

The thought of connection as

A new escape hatch

We're in it no matter

We're together the same

Let's hook the answers

Like a fish in our brain

So deep in the unknown

It won't yet have a name.

-Kelly Voelker

The Sun and Moon of Spirit

When my spirit faces the sun I string optimism 'round Problems and neglect. I see promise in the condemned Misused and historic relics. When my spirit faces the moon I realize I was seeing the world Through a lens of the future Not seeing right what is important In this particular reality. Not in this town Not at this time Only in this world At magical moments Appearing just often enough To keep my spirit facing the sun As an example or moment To outlast who won And during the moon I'm still here but not seen Waiting for a better day To improve what I see. -Kelly Voelker

Proper Fall

We were living the shock of flash-frozen fall.

Now today is the true spirit of fall
With its sunshine, fresh air and
The healing smell of properly brown leaf litter.

I see a whirling bunch of leaves
dance by my window
I hear the undulating sound of crisp wind
As it rises and subsides
Leaving me breathless and
My eyes open wide.

-Kelly Voelker

Change of Plans

I find comfort
As an observer therein
Even when planned and set
The melting of circumstances sent
From the true authority of
All that we think and do
The tasks and schedules
Routes and climbs
No way to circumvent
A subspace tar pit for space and time
With forces grand and spelling out
Our limitations shown grand there too
Resetting reality's clue
Nothing to do but wait and be
Until the end of this calamity.

-Kelly Voelker

When an Enigma Dies

As I perceive through a spiritual lens
And accept the changes and amends
I'm coming short of reconciling
A departure of one beguiling

To know the hidden highlights
The lively encounters
The dynamic pursuits
Dimmed by waning hopes
Hidden in time by decades
Before my arrival on the scene

To know one so effected by beauty and life
Could no more share the same planet
Could no more be within physics
Tests the chasm between
The realms I know of and
The realms my body resides in

The bridge won't allow me to cross
To see for myself how it is
To be neither here nor anywhere
But an actual part of peacefulness
Renouncing the human qualities
Known by all but in truth false

No more having the will
To generate an acceptable image
No more willing or able to
Arrange a jolly gathering
Or beguile a single other soul
As now not of features or flaws
Not a creature with claws
A facet of wonder now pervasive beyond
What our ideas and words can respond.

-Kelly Voelker

Beguile -  1. charm or enchant (someone), sometimes in a deceptive way.
2. LITERARY - help (time) pass pleasantly.

Waning -1.  (of the moon) have a progressively smaller part of its visible surface illuminated, so that it appears to decrease in size.
2. (especially of a condition or feeling) decrease in vigor, power, or extent; become weaker.

Plain Truth

In my mind
Exists the intention
To take in beauty
To observe as
A simple intvention
Asking supreme design
For a crumb, a tid-bit
A pixel, a misfit
A signpost of truth
From designs to unwrap
Hidden in my mind
A treasure of moments
To pass on or amplify
Highlight or pacify
In my mind ideas
Like tumbled plain stones
Become more beautiful
When turned and polished
In my mind are treasures
I reach in to choose
What shall this day reveal
Which thought will thus pose?

-Kelly Voelker

plain - 1. not decorated or elaborate; simple or ordinary in character.

             2.

(of a person) having no pretensions; not remarkable or special.

3.  clearly; unequivocally (used for emphasis).

           4.  a large area of flat land with few trees.

Gravity's Fabric

The greater part
My conscious will
Rolls and tumbles
Drifts and thrills
From natural landscape
Laid throughout
The un-owned frontier
Seen still free
Patterns, lifeforms
Reacting to
Sun and water
Fabric of
Gravity and wind above.

-Kelly Voelker

Rainy Day Recess

Oh summer storm
Saturate my day
Adding flex to stay
Within this repose
Within this recess
I am hidden from
I belong within
This natural space
Thunder begins
Bringing to attention
All in range
To postpone actions
Plans and friends
Sheltered here
My clear pure place
The storm's umbrella
Under which we wait
As a time of respite
From ideas, fate
The timeline stops
Nature's orb of
Healing balance
In awe we witness
Sound and power
Replete in wonder
Grateful for
Inclusion in
Today's rhythm
Without within.

-Kelly Voelker

repose - a state of rest, sleep, or tranquility.
recess - a small space created by building part of a wall further back from the rest.
respite - a short period of rest or relief from something difficult or unpleasant
replete - satisfied and relaxed

With Forces Unannounced

When a character in my life
Can't negotiate a new season
I must imagine a plot change
Now unimaginable to me

Could someone more interesting
More surprising and present
Take the place of a person
Whose story has worn itself out

The unknown value of all questions
Being that of those yet unmet
Who don't need to know the lines
Of the former or future role
But create it in present time
With me and all new talent

This new story created behind the scenes
Beyond what I understand, yet know
Weaves rainbows and sunny horizons
After storms of all sizes that blow
The prepared linear landscape
For changes erasing rows

Poetic and precise in detail
As the tiniest and broadest all are
Holding it all together
With forces unannounced
Yet powerful around and through
Each pinpoint micro cue

I trust and allow the genius
Of those I do not know now
To fill my future with  joy
With laughter and without ploy.

-Kelly Voelker

ploy - a cunning plan or action designed to turn a situation to one's own advantage

cue - a thing said or done that serves as a signal to an actor or other performer to enter or to begin their speech or performance.

Iris = One

I contemplate the I AM
Without true meaning known
The explanations hollow
The scriptures won't bestow
A deep and integrating
Knowing from inside
But all along it's been here
Growing every spring
In my hometown gardens
In artist's favorite things
It is the Living Iris
So common that it's void
Of meaning or enlightenment
A fleeting burst of joy
I've always had a reverence
For these unique flowers
As exotic as the orchid
The Midwest's own endowed
It's time to seek them out now
The season is at hand
Examine with full focus
Their exquisite high design
Unfolding in unlikely
Unattended scenes
Displaying truth that beauty
Cannot be so erased
By neglect or abandonment
By drought or hottest sun
The iris comes back always
It's I R ... I is . . . ONE

-Kelly Voelker

Lifespan of the River

Lifetimes are like rivers
Meandering through time
Some seem never ending
Others end entwined
Giving all their life force
To another stream
Who will carry
What it can as far as
Where we cannot dream

The ultimate destination
Is the source or larger plan
We have never been there
Until our sudden end

The deltas are these places
Calm and not as fast
Whether reached in old age
If we haven't diminished
Or run out of our banks
Dispersing all we held as
Silt and sand and slough*

Life is a collection of
What we travel through
What we're still attached to
Sinks before we're done
Servicing another
Or becoming part of mud.

-Kelly Voelker

Slough -

1. 1.

   a swamp.

   • NORTH AMERICAN

     a side channel or inlet, or a natural channel that is only sporadically filled with water.
2. 2.

   a situation characterized by lack of progress or activity.

Delta - "When a river reaches a lake or the sea the water slows down and loses the power to carry sediment . The sediment is dropped at the mouth of the river. Some rivers drop so much sediment that waves and tides can't carry it all away. It builds up in layers forming a delta."

NOTE:  As I think about this, civilization can be thought of as a delta.  The layers and remains of so many lifetimes of effort and best attempts.  A city or a library can even be thought of as a delta.

Oh Magnolia

Oh Magnolia
I've known you through all time
Peeking through as softly
As a rabbit in the vine

If there were a symbol
Fragrance or a touch
Which is all I'd ever
Think or feel or want

It's you who are this
Breathless fresh and dearest
To my oldest heart depth
To my hand so neareth.

-Kelly Voelker

Spring in the Ashes

I was burning papers outside in a burn pile.  I noticed all that remained from the last fire was a metal spring.  I wondered what archaeologists would think if they found this simple element, which really says nothing about the notebook or calendar it bound or what was in the notebook or calendar.  Even at this short time expanse, I cannot say for sure if it means anything at all about the civilization we live in.

Later, I heard on the radio, that nature has very specific proteins to create life, and they look like a spring, and some like a Slinky.  They fold up and will tolerate no imperfections.  At certain points in the life creating process, with their specific perfections in tact, they descend into utter chaos only to emerge with the process more advanced than it was before.

From our limited vantage point, we cannot see or understand most of what is going on to perpetuate our natural world as well as what is living out its existence demolishing what is created.

Our sciences are short sighted without physics, and we lack much of the information to even understand ethics.

Ethics are understood best by allowing a broad breathe of intention to guide us towards higher forms of civilization.  Within this, the strong, targeted will of some will have an effect on the trajectory of ethics, but they are thankfully blind to the coarse of nature's final intended destination.

This destination, is only temporary and will branch out towards other specific directions in the sphere of this dimension, and as a particle of insignificance for the Universe to assimilate.

-Kelly Voelker

Destroying the data of
Irrelevant gain
Leaving the outcome
To wind and then rain

No meaning no order
Just everything same
Reverting to elements
The spring still remains.

-Kelly Voelker

The Grasses' Promenade

Brown winter grasses
Forced down to the ground
Forced to behave like the
Frantic water flowing over it
Towards ever lower places
Ever larger lakes
Never large enough 'til
It formed the grand consciousness
Of all water

The grasses hurried as the water
To protect the ground and remain
There after in the disguise of water
Brown dry currents of grass
Protecting what it could
All else yielded and released
Leaving tree roots suspended in air
Over raw river banks ensnared

After having no choice but to serve
Land and acquiescing to the flood
The grasses regained power and rose
Upright off the ground through
Their horizontal remains
Towards the sun refrained
Grasses . . . the proud
Waving mane of the plains
Allowed to brush the belly of deer
Offering to hide one insect from the next
Green renewal and healing
To regions and fields
Creek banks and meadows
Proudly a-wave
The grasses' promenade*.

-Kelly Voelker

*promenade -  a public walk, typically one along a waterfront at a resort
- a leisurely walk, or sometimes a ride or drive, taken in a public place so as to meet or be seen by others.
- (in country dancing) a movement in which couples follow one another in a given direction, each couple having both hands joined

My Cloverleaf

Three days watching from my room on the third floor, I look at the cloverleaf's revolving pace. Each truck ticking by, engine's compression breaking in the sub-zero temperatures. Every driver of these ever-revolving trucks is a master driver. Each driver is more capable than most people at navigating weather and hypnotic, repetitive sequencing along the linear route. Each driver is driven as he drives, to meet the next tick on the click of larger ticks on the clock of commerce. How many of these master drivers exist, when so prevalent as this just on my cloverleaf?

Three days watching from my room on the third floor, I look at the Wendy's across the street on one petal of my cloverleaf. Is it just another modern roach motel poisoning time-crunched, value-conscious travelers? I realized after going there myself, that it is managed by a wonderful and capable person; responsible day in, day out, for staffing as well as making sure the food is hot and satisfying. This person is responsible for the facility itself functioning perfectly for restrooms and seating. It's an indoor travel park for the pausing traveler.

Three days watching from my room on the third floor, I see countless semi-trucks parked as their drivers sleep, and yet others are chatting with the 24 hour night manager of my hotel. Is she happy for the company? It matters not, for as a bartender, it is her job to entertain and accommodate those who need a place to rest, or someone who just wants to stand and visit awhile after sitting and being alone for hours on end.

This is just my cloverleaf. How many others as you replicate each across the United States? I will not think of fast food restaurants as roach motels but now, but as efficient ships with their own captains and crews, serving the public at all hours, sleeping, eating, and then doing it again and again. They meet the public's needs on a daily basis without fail, and if they fail, someone else must meet the need. Are their needs being met on this timeless extent?

-Kelly Voelker

cloverleaf - a junction of roads intersecting at different levels with connecting sections forming the pattern of a four-leaf clover. (North American)

extent - the degree to which something has spread; the size or scale of something.

Code of Tiny Details

My mind open wide
My eyes scoop up
The vast prairie landscape
Mile after mile
Yielding tiny details
Huge subtle patterns emerge
The local spoonbill scoops
Large amounts of water
On the move
To yield tiny zooplankton
From which to nourish himself
To survive longer than other fish
From what is written
In the code of the tiny details.

-Kelly Voelker

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

Sand and Snow

The wind turns the prairie
Into an ice blue desert
Crystalline sparkles
Water lifts into air

The sun agrees simply
It's more and more fun
Shadows dramatic
When crystalline spun

Sand too as crystalline
Earth born in air
Drifting in sugars
Molasses and waves.

-Kelly Voelker

Before Words

Before words were ever said
Uniform responses couldn't blend
Each person unique was read
A natural sound or gesture
Willingness to understand and mentor

Before books were used
Alertness was but for cues
A sigh, a glance, a normal stance
Before behavior was standardized
I wonder why, whom and where
Could thoughts be transferred with a stare
Or known in advance by character each
The code of human before speech.

-Kelly Voelker