Saturday, May 31, 2014

Very Late

Quiet eyes sting with sleep,
But deep dreams are not what I seek-
At least not tonight, quite honestly.
I crave to stay so very awake
Be one hundred percent entertained
At all times, no rest for me today...

The thought of the sheer boredom
That accompanies your tight shut eyes,
Would crush and shake my insides.
The constant need for stimulation,
From board games, t.v. , and radio stations.
Holds on to the evil of keeping me plugged in
Turned on, started up, and mostly
just stressed. 

Riley Welch

Friday, May 30, 2014

Very Early

The constant of white noise
Whispers wet and weathered at ear drums
Tipping, tapping.
So fast it sounds without a break-
So quick you just can't catch its pace-
Whirring and stirring blades of grace

And sitting in the moment
Of the solid block of sound
Lets your focus emerge
As life shifts to rely on its

Riley Welch

Thursday, May 29, 2014

Writers Block

I am without inspiration
Lacking creative inclination
Causing great indignation,
Which really needs elimination.

Not an image in my mind,
No ideas to be combined,
All thoughts must be confined -
Nothing good to be designed.

Write, erase, write, repeat.
Type, backspace, type, delete.
Add, empty, add deplete.
Move forward, back, forward, retreat.

Everything good is being undone.
Writers block is never fun.
My brain's been bleached by the sun.
I feel like a cap wearing dunce.

I need a sharp clever awakening,
Something to keep the reader questioning -
Something to keep my work from deadening -
Come on, haven't I done enough reckoning...

Riley Welch

Wednesday, May 14, 2014

Nothing Rhymes with Orange

Nothing rhymes with orange I've found,
A fact I know is quite profound.
That a word can exist without a match
Leaving it completely unattached.

And you can rhyme her soft, sweet peel
Thick or thin - based on allele,
As well as that tart, citrus flavor
Eaten plain or baked rich, to savor.

But she herself is quite alone,
Cannot end a sentence in this poem.
For if we put an orange at the end
The poem would stop - and not make much sense.

But in a way she's not in total isolation
Because there are a few words with she has correlation,
Like silver or bulb or even angel, all lacking a perfect rhyme
Meaning we must keep them away from the end of the line.

But now they aren't quite so deserted,
By the language that made them so sad and distorted,
For they all have each other in un-rhyming love,
Because similar traits have proven to be enough.

Riley Welch