Monday, February 29, 2016

HOP

You have to form
full sentences
and thoughts
to write a
poem.
Sometimes.
Sometimes bees and birds come to live together
because they both can fly.

11/27/2016
Riley Welch

Saturday, February 27, 2016

BX

So many pages
and working
here,
on a deadline.
Should I work on art
with so much
structure?
Well,
I can't see the harm.
Boxes are the most efficient way
to package a room.

11/23/2015
Riley Welch

Friday, February 26, 2016

Clouds

Putting off words
and losing them.

Putting off
putting them on paper.

And because of that
they evaporate.
Maybe they float
to someone else's head.

Where they condense
into
black milky words
on papers
and shiny pixels
behind computer screens.

And someone feels like they
really accomplished something.
Out of their own head.

When anyone could have been
so lucky
to have a pouring storm
in their head
instead of letting it evaporate away.

11/23/2015
Riley Welch

Thursday, February 25, 2016

Home

Sparkling
dew drops
impeded the spiders
fresh web.
As it hung,
delicate
and silky on the
green
leaves.

The spider wished
the sweet dew away
as it scuttled
to find new peace
in the damp home.
Dew felt too cold
on thin, wiry legs.

Can spiders even feel the cold?
Maybe only on fresh Autumn days.

11/14/2016
Riley Welch

Wednesday, February 24, 2016

PIP

I'm once again backed up on poetry. As I've said before, when I get this kind of back up, I stall with writing new poetry. So, until March 15th, I'll be posting one poem a day, as a way to catch up. After that, I'll resume normal posting.

I think I get so scared
because of a great fear of death.
A great fear that upon losing
all functioning
in my brain,
and my body,
it will just be the end.

I don't know why.

The secrets of the afterlife
will be presented
to me
as they are to everyone,
but the certain
amount
of
uncertainty.

Makes me uneasy.

11/14/2015
Riley Welch

Monday, February 22, 2016

12:08

And as the early, fresh noon light cut under the sharp stone
it warmed my feet inside it's hollowed leather shoe
and I felt in that moment
a great feeling of accomplishment
of learning
of doing something to be proud of
and
that gave me a solid feeling of contentment.

12/2/2016
Riley Welch

Saturday, February 20, 2016

Grassy

And I thought about
all those reoccurring patterns
that I always think about,

And how I fell into the pattern
too smooth this time.
My chest tightened
and the air around me
seemed to suck in
and suddenly
I was shocked.
And choking
on my own thought
on my own actions
on my own choices.

Why did I make them
the way I did.
Without considering
every
possible
outcome
first.

2.14.2016
Riley Welch

Monday, February 15, 2016

19

Isn't
it too
bad
that
my only moments
of inspiration
come after
a nice,
all alone,
recharge.
But
here's some irony -
I hate being alone.
When is there time
to produce
some
happy
quality
work.

11/11/2015
Riley Welch

Saturday, February 13, 2016

Empty Lots

Isn't it odd
that shadows
are the absence of light
and yet
we give them a name.

11/8/2015
Riley Welch

Wednesday, February 10, 2016

A New Sweet Nothing

Here,
I am lacking
any kind of
lead
for my writing.
I don't know
what I am doing
or how.
I don't really
even know how to spell.

-----

I feel like humming
instead of writing
today.
A flowing
nothing
of rhythms,
all tones
that make no sense.
I tried to put my
pen to paper
to describe it.
And came up with nothing,
except the
word swirling
thousands of times over.
Swirling,
Swirling,
Swirling.
Today feels like a
light nothing.
I feel untouched
by any emotion.
Mindless humming.
Does anyone miss it yet?

11/8/2015
Riley Welch

Monday, February 8, 2016

10

Silent nights
seem so much more
abundant
in the colder months.
When the evening
lack the creaky
insects
and restless wildlife
that seem to come
out only when the
sun sets.

11/2/2015
Riley Welch

Saturday, February 6, 2016

Breeze

The leaves
moved so fast
they seemed to sparkle
in the sun's
gleam.
Twinkling
like stars everyone forgot about when the sun rose.

11/1/2015
Riley Welch

Wednesday, February 3, 2016

Wednesday

Today is my birthday - so instead of posting in the order I usually do I went through my notebook and chose a poem I really enjoy, and I hope you do too! And how fitting that this poem gets to be posted on another Wednesday. 

I'm driving down the highway
in traffic
because that is Austin.
And one of those old
punk-y pop songs
I listened to
in middle school came on
and I thought about
how sad,
and how grumpy
I had been.
Miserable, miserable days.
And I hated my fingers -
really, truly hated them.
And now,
after so many tears and shouts,
I am so happy,
everyday.
I think of how lucky,
lucky I am.
I have so much love,
bursting from me.
There are tears now,
but only because I am
overwhelmed.
Not every day
is so, so great.
But I love the way my fingers
grip a pen,
and fan out on a computer.
Doing work,
trying to make a
small, small impact.

12/16/2015
Riley Welch

Monday, February 1, 2016

5' 4.5"

My spine feels longer
than it did a long time
before.
I hunched myself
over.
In cold defeat.
Smaller and smaller.
Today I saw the tops of mountains.
What comes up,
must come down,
so I've heard.

11/1/2015
Riley Welch