Even in our sorrow
Can we not see
Past our imaginations
How a soul refreshed
Could now be gifted
Such a renewal beyond the minds eye
Beyond roles or identity
Still observing as one's true self
The clearest majesty of creation once more held?
-Kelly Voelker
At last, I've put a finger
Firmly on a strange feeling
Before now I couldn't identify
When one sees pictures of hieroglyphs
Or tours a grand home from the previous century
Or as now when I carefully sift through
What is left of my parent's long life together.
Or when I see where a railroad track was removed
Or a one room schoolhouse standing in ruin.
What is this feeling so sad and so dear
It is the profound 'sense of loss.'
I feel we are losing the ability to be simple and free
I feel we are losing our basic survival instincts
To a mountain of plastic nothingness.
Our virtues are tied to commercial holidays
Our emotions milked with well designed ploys
We rely on calculators as we rely on this nothingness
To chart our lives as emptiness drives so many
Out of their minds.
No stability thrives, as security hides
From the amplified chaos the nothingness breeds
Can one construct from what's left
A life to preserve and use what others would refuse
In solitary satisfaction that these were correct actions
Are these surviving objects futile or essential clues?
-Kelly Voelker
The problem with life is my emotional sensitivity is aghast at 'what is.'
This without overly romanticizing occurs
Without a second thought or word.
The problem with life is no one sees
Romance and tragedy in the same degrees
Some are elated and pleasant to witness
Some are deflated, weak and listless
The problem with life is no one agrees
People compete and resort to sleaze
The problem with life is we sprout without purpose
Survival and limits corrupt and coerce us
The problem with life is what it consists of
Aside from poetic expansions of reality
Life is a tendency to have constructed intentions
Hijacked, rerouted, punctured or blunted
Eventually or before it's performed it's main function
To live is complicated by others it seems
So some will choose to go it alone
Observing and pondering with attempts to postpone
The reality is no one will finally atone
Fiction will argue but I often see
Life is a friction not a slip-stream it seems
Grounding the static in what ever way works
Will send strife back down so we can feel our true worth.
- Kelly Write Away
aghast - filled with horror or shock
listless - (of a person or their manner) lacking energy or enthusiasm
sleaze - immoral, sordid, and corrupt behavior or material, especially in business or politics
coerce - persuade (an unwilling person) to do something by using force or threats
atone - make amends or reparation
friction - conflict or animosity caused by a clash of wills, temperaments, or opinions
strife - angry or bitter disagreement over fundamental issues; conflict
In a world of poisons
I stand and flourish
I will adapt quickly
I will grow through
Difficult conditions
Drought and flood
With enduring vitality
I offer my healing to you
As a simple cup of tea
I am going nowhere
No matter what
I will come back
I will always be here
Take some comfort in that.
-Kelly Voelker
Among the grasses and shrub
Some sure part of me is veiled
Just as the wild animals
Wait and watch in dappled light
The wind and treelines occlude
Detection from those
Who would extrude or presume
To know our identities
There among the grass and rush*
To weed and thin is like
Destroying a part of me; a sin.
-Kelly Voelker
*rush any of several flowering plants distinguished by cylindrical stalks or hollow, stemlike leaves.
The clouds were parked in the sky
Like ships in the doldrums
The clouds rested
They were parked vehicles of change
Cargoes of moisture and shade
Their anger had disappeared
They were light and lofty
No drift or unrest
Just floating
Awaiting their behest*.
-Kelly Voelker
*behest - orders
The quietness contends with patterns now broken
The feeling persists, is felt but not spoken
My purpose in neutral, scatters my focus
I will separate my thoughts and ambitions
Far enough apart to allow superstitions
Their rightful place among daily endeavors
Waiting to show me I'm idle, but clever.
-Kelly Voelker
