Monday, December 4, 2017

After three long years at this url, I have decided to give Nothing Rhymes with Orange an upgrade and it's own address.

You can now find me at the link below. My old poems are on the new website and I will continue posting 3X a week.

Thank you!!!

Riley Welch

This blog has moved to

Saturday, December 2, 2017


Things disappear sometimes and
not for reasons you
think but probably
just because the going gets tough sometimes.
So they have to move on.

Riley Welch

Wednesday, November 29, 2017


I forgot how to write
and I don't know why
how hard is it 
to spend all day
teaching kids to sound out words
but then you get home
to put a pen to paper
and fall asleep instead. 

I know "a" sounds like apple
and "k" needs to sound real short (snip snip)
and I know that pretend words can sound real, 
but the spelling is usually hit or miss. 

Then I sit down at home, 
and get ready to write
and forget all the letters I've ever heard. 

I think about how hard it would be to learn another language.
And learn all the sounds, and the ones that break the rules. Maybe I'm too old. 
Or maybe I'm not stubborn enough. 

Writing always felt like my nightly diary entry. 
My fresh breath of relief, 
but lately things haven't been coming together, 

maybe that's why I sometimes feel I can't breath. 

Riley Welch

Monday, November 27, 2017

It's a Monday

I think I prefer a Tuesday to a Monday.
I'm back in the swing of it.
I'm not too exhausted.
It doesn't feel like a crushing end of the weekend.
It's working my way back through the week.
Slowly, slowly.
Digging my way there.

Riley Welch

Saturday, November 25, 2017


The rain clouds brought down wet memories,
of family gatherings that had passed.
I felt such a sadness in the pit of my stomach,
that I could not lift out and remove,
whether through old recipes
or silver jewelry
or old prada perfume.

Riley Welch

Monday, November 6, 2017

6 Keys

The fog settle over the stadium lights,
in a way that made me miss high school football,
but not in a way that made me miss high school,
adult life is more stressful,
but generally better.

This is mostly due to being able to eat whatever I want.

But the way the fog settled that night
reminded me of being 14,
and walking out onto the field for the first time.

"Are you nervous?"


"Good, you'll play better"

Riley Welch

Wednesday, November 1, 2017


My stomach is full of caffeinated coffee and anxiety,
and I get that one of those things,
I didn't consume.

But let me guarantee,
it is still there.

Lunch waits around the corner,
and my forgotten breakfast
was not enough.

Riley Welch

Monday, October 30, 2017

Monday Blues

Today I had the Monday blues,
different than the one that comes on a Sunday. 
This one felt long and trudging. 
This one felt cold and stagnant. 

Tuesday’s aren’t meant to be better. 
But maybe this one will. 

Riley Welch

Sunday, October 29, 2017


I just couldn’t sleep.
Everything seemed incorrect.
But light would come soon.

Riley Welch

Wednesday, October 25, 2017

Sleepy Wednesday

usually the sleepiness comes on a monday
it comes
slow and steady
as sleep does
catching me while i work
and while i write
and while i cook
hoping tomorrow
i could have five more minutes

Riley Welch

Monday, October 23, 2017


This sleepy Monday came to soon.
Both stressed and underprepared.
Thursdays seem so much nicer.
They are close to the end.

But I've made sure not to wish my weeks away,
they are still valuable for now.

Riley Welch

Saturday, October 21, 2017


The air was still when I left my house,
but 15 minutes later,
the leaves threatened my ankles.
I think this meant it was fall,
though I did not yet feel ready to let go of summer.
Something about bundling up wasn't what I wanted just yet.
Would this mean I would gain a thick layer of winter fat?
That wasn't really what I wanted.
Do hot beverages even keep you warm?
I don't have a fireplace. 

Riley Welch

Wednesday, October 18, 2017

After a long week of feeling both mentally and physically exhausted, I will resume poetry posting on Saturday. 

The last few days I've been attending a conference for all AmeriCorps members in the state of Colorado. I greatly enjoyed the content of my two days in Denver, but often left the presentations feeling tired and unable to turn off the thoughts in my head. Usually this is good for my writing, but I found this time it was not. There are many benefits to the non-profit sector -- mainly that you get to participate in meaningful work. But occasionally, thinking of all the need present within our communities, outside of our communities and in the world leaves me depleted.

When you look at the big picture, it can sometimes feel like there is always more that can be done, and never enough people to do it. And that just you as one person can only have so much impact. 


Even with that, this week sparked many productive conversations with my friends, my fellow AmeriCorps members and my loved ones about ways we can better our own small piece of this world. Whether it is through direct service and action, difficult conversations, education or just being a little bit nicer, bettering your slice of the pie will sometimes be all you can do. 

I know this isn't poetic, but I felt I needed to express this feeling, and because I have had a few days without content, I thought this would be the best place for it. 

I know that everyone makes an impact on their world in some way and I don't need reassurance that I do, I simply had to turn thoughts into something more tangible. 

Wednesday, October 11, 2017


Have you seen the mail today?
I couldn't find it.
I think I was waiting on a check.
Yesterday or the day before,
I created all I could.
I was left exhausted.
So I forgot what I was doing.
everything seems lost.

Riley Welch

Monday, October 9, 2017

2 Miles

It was late at night,
when the sun first spoke to me.
I heard she might be coming back,
but this felt like a cruel tale.
I missed her warmth, but will admit,
I felt the dark sky held a certain comfort.
Not knowing who to believe,
I waited until dawn.

Riley Welch

Saturday, October 7, 2017


A rainy day

brought the biggest laziness

and I couldn't hold

it in, as you chuckled

through the strained

pages of "Anne".

Riley Welch

Wednesday, October 4, 2017


Today's the first day
and I'll try to do "better".
The mountain air has
dried me out
and I miss the
warm sweet
kiss of a Texas summer.
The wind blew cold tonight,
and I finally remembered
my home.
She felt the same
and maybe I felt
a bit changed.

Riley Welch

Monday, October 2, 2017


Sometimes I can't think straight.
Or I can, but it's too rapid fire to make sense of --
usually this is when it is
hurt or
angry or
especially sad
and sometimes when it is incredibly confused.

And all of that is what washes over me.

Riley Welch

Saturday, September 30, 2017


I drove down Colorado, over New Mexico,
and into the top of Texas.
And back.
In 12 short hours.
I rested my hands on my soft stomach
and let the glasses shield my eyes
waved at every cow
saw the pink-lit mountains at sunrise
I missed a lot of things,
and was content with much.
I spent most of my time tired,
but tried to also see it as fulfilled.

Riley Welch

Wednesday, September 27, 2017


It's a sleepy Wednesday,
and boy am I so tired.
I can't seem to keep the sand away,
I'll lie outside for hours.

Riley Welch

Monday, September 25, 2017

A Monday Haiku

This is the morning.
Do you see the dawn's sun yet?
I miss it's orange glow.

Riley Welch

Saturday, September 23, 2017


I feel a great divide.
Like cold and hot,
and maybe it's something I can taste,
but more possibly it's something I can feel.
I haven't really decided yet.

Riley Welch

Wednesday, September 20, 2017


In a certain way it felt like no one maybe understand.

Riley Welch

Monday, September 18, 2017


Enviable consciousness
I wished for days where I tried to be my best person
Sometimes I left behind thought I had
most of the time,
I didn’t

I spent too much time searching for something to reveal itself to me.

Riley Welch

Saturday, September 16, 2017


Sometimes when I was bored I climbed to the top third of a tree in my front yard,
I got scared climbing that high,
and knew I would be well hidden if I stayed in the center.
But something about the pride made me want to be seen.

I couldn’t find a direct link between anything else in my life and pride, but I let it rest on this regardless.

Riley Welch

Wednesday, September 13, 2017

MM Part 3

Bubbles collected at the rim of the glass

and I watched them surge from the bottom foaming the top.

Riley Welch

Monday, September 11, 2017

MM Part 1

This is the only home I’ve ever known.
I know all my neighbors
they’re all my family.
Each room in the house has a different memory
and all the carpets are tan.
We’ve stained them with coffee and wine and once, spaghetti sauce.

There’s even a wall that I once threw up bright purple on after a school carnival.

Riley Welch

Saturday, September 9, 2017

Happy Saturday

Happy Saturday.
I threw a birthday party last week.
I forgot the invitation list.
But not the chips and dip.
But the cake.
And the ice cream.
It was a disheartening party to say the least.

What do actual people do when they throw a party?
I've made assumptions in my life that now prove to be incorrect.
The amount of time it takes to make lists.
Perhaps, it takes others less time.

And I have an odd anxiety linked to using the internet,
it feels like if it were to disappear I would lose,

Riley Welch

Wednesday, September 6, 2017

A short haiku

Here's a short haiku,
because I don't have much time.
I'll be better soon.

Riley Welch

Saturday, September 2, 2017

21 - again

again. With the same
type of.

I've lost my train of thought.

Riley Welch

Wednesday, August 30, 2017


I biked 26 miles summer of 2016,
mostly to prove to myself I could.
I wanted to be strong.
I wasn't sore the next day, though,
I never did it again,
but it hasn't even been a year.
So, that doesn't mean I won't.
I think 100 miles will be my next.
I'll remember sunscreen this time.
I didn't even bring anything to fix my bike if it had broken.
How risky I let myself be.
I listened to billions of podcasts.
I think I'd do any audio book next time.
Maybe my legs would ache. And be sore.
Or, perhaps they wouldn't burn the soft pink they did the last ride.
I felt truly victorious.
Maybe even safe.
Like I did the most and best I could.
If I walked my legs turned to jelly.
Could I really do 100? We'll see.

Riley Welch

Monday, August 28, 2017


I have a reoccurring fear
this isn't a great   .

This is just normal, but I have never known it before.

Though, I suppose I could feel like that about any random section of my life.

Riley Welch

Saturday, August 26, 2017


There was a metaphor about a hand,
but I forgot it.
Clutching softly
maybe --
who has the time for all that, though.
I wanted hard words to spill from my fingertips,
the way they fell from my chattering teeth on nights when I had too much.
Or the way tears fell from my eyes on the last night of my college career,
when I realized I was growing up and out.

Riley Welch

Wednesday, August 23, 2017


For your eyes only,

Days with worry,
they slip out of my hands
the same way sand falls
and I'm not proud of that.

But, I do have some days,
when I stoop below them
and count each grain as it falls.

Which makes me feel less bad about the loss.

Riley Welch

Monday, August 21, 2017


The sky was grey and I lost myself at a stoplight.
The car in front of me had mesmerizing brake lights.
I was glad the sky was the same color as me.
Until I peaked over the rim of my sunglasses, and realized it shone a bright blue,
and I had been deceived.
Left to wallow, knowing it was not like me.

Riley Welch

Saturday, August 19, 2017


Been awake so long, 
but my brain never clicks off.
Only keeps going. 

Riley Welch

Wednesday, August 16, 2017

Main Room

I let salt water hush me to sleep.
Although, actually,
it was just chlorine.
I slept in the same room a ghost made its home.
She tapped me on the shoulder
and told me it was morning while I sang her lullaby to babies.

Riley Welch

Monday, August 14, 2017

Two Highways Intersect

The echoes made Jacob feel lonely once again,
from the edges of the cliff he asked for forgiveness,
in the kind of methodical, practical way people do when they feel regret.
Sitting alone, pleading back and forth to yourself, maybe god.
He wasn't sure if the feeling left him when he decided he deserved his guilt
or when he saw a sign that sealed his fate.
Like a bird taking flight, or a wilted flower.

Riley Welch

Saturday, August 12, 2017

This hiatus lasted longer than expected, but I was tired and the rest felt good. Without the pressure the write three poems a week, I found myself wanting to write more than I have in the past few months. Here's a short haiku, and Monday I will resume normal posting - one original poem on Monday, Wednesday and Saturday. 

I guess I felt a bit lost
or maybe confused
but, oh, it feels much better.

Riley Welch

Friday, July 21, 2017

I am on vacation for a few weeks and then moving across a few states. 

Poetry will resume once my life has settled. 

Saturday, July 15, 2017

Three Galaxies

I waited to long for the postman
because he lost my letter.
I forgot to stamp the corner
the second time around.
When it came back to my
I couldn't stand it
and threw it off the edge.

Riley Welch

Wednesday, July 12, 2017


Another Wednesday went by and I lost my mind
on the corner of two streets I forgot. 

I hadn't gotten enough slee in weeks, and my brain reached the edge. 

I fell asleep behind the wheel and switched in and out of traffic. 

Before I flew off the side of the road. 

Submerged in the water. 


Riley Welch

Monday, July 10, 2017

on whatever street

Sun sank sharp,
while the moon let out a vicious moan.

No days off. What a crappy job. 

Sometimes the sun got to hide behind clouds,
but the moon got these half-asses waxing and waning days.

Where he's still got to show up -- but only, like, a little bit.

Where's the fairness in that?

You know how hard it is to make other plans when you still have to show up a little bit?

Every now and then he'll get lucky.
And the night will go pitch black.
But then he'll get feedback of how "unsafe" it is and how "dangerous" driving becomes.
Perfect service 360 nights of a year, and still only a 2.5/5 on yelp.

At least in the summer. The nights were short.

Riley Welch

Saturday, July 8, 2017


green eyed sparkle
green eyed demons
stopped writing
started typing
bags grew
until faces shrunk
gold and purple
used to be royal
what happened
nothing remember
leaves were large
the sun was small
the demons danced,
like they do
never seen one walk

have you?

Riley Welch

Wednesday, July 5, 2017


I found a baby somewhere deep in the woods.
Hidden in the crannies of a tree while my brain slept.
Everything shut off except the sun rising through the trunks.
I saw it and tried to run.
I knew I couldn't close my eyes,
because I let the words back up inside me for too long.
Pen to paper.
Paper to pencil.
Where are the notes in the margins of my books?
I lost them.
But I don't think I've lost it.
How do I make time for the important things....
I found a baby somewhere deep in the woods and cried to forget him.
I felt I couldn't remember how ink spread anymore.
What's gone is gone anyway.

Riley Welch

Monday, July 3, 2017


Heart racing. 
Ankle swelling. 
Mind beating. 
Seeing cloth. 
Patterned ripped. 

Oh. I have such doubts. 

Riley Welch 

Saturday, July 1, 2017


I don't have time for anything. 
I am falling asleep. 
I miss soft pillows.  
And blankets that way me down. 

Riley Welch

Wednesday, June 28, 2017


The week came a day too late,
with empty bubbling in the pit of my stomach.
Although, I began to think the bubbling actually came from the tips of my toes,
and all I felt was it slowly working it's way up.
I didn't think there was a way to avoid it.
This feeling.
Thoughts clouded my more important thoughts,
my mind was busy and tangled up.
In one month I may be settled then.

Riley Welch

Saturday, June 24, 2017

Written Down

Scrawled in the corner of my notebook,
there left a date I had seemed to forget.
I wrote it there for it's memory.
But now, can't find it.
No where, anywhere.

I'm sorry to this day, where I was in a frozen moment of time.

That I cannot, cannot, cannot recall.

Riley Welch

Wednesday, June 21, 2017

Fresh Red.

Stomach turned into battery acid.
I melted metal in it's pit.
Hissed and spit.
Maybe others sang.
Moved like a robot.
Like an animal.
Like the devil.
Hit a pitch so high only dogs heard it.
Howled back that they didn't know what I meant.
Can you repeat it?
One more time maybe?
Got lost in the woods or a jungle or a forest.
But it wasn't very wet.
Feet got stuck in quicksand.
Rolled over on my belly.
Beetles walked out over it.
Hovering on top without sinking in.
They said it was their feet.
Spread like plates or leaves.
Held them up on top.
Wrote eight bars of music, only knew 4/4.
Easiest thing to rhyme to, rhyme in, write on.
Easy quarter notes kept my honest.
Everyone else in the bar lied.
Drained clear cups.
Everything smelled like limes.

And when I woke up, my stomach settled.

Riley Welch

Monday, June 19, 2017

Old Tile

The slanting wall turned from blue to gray as the sun hit it lower and lower.
I felt sweat drip off the tip of my nose.
And water fell in circles like rituals around me.
Legs bent ready to,
hit the pavement.
Water smacking,
I slid my feet back.
Knowing I would lose teeth if they skidded.
Smack right through the front one.
White a bold no more.

Riley Welch
Riley Welch

Wednesday, June 14, 2017

Split Checks

And someone preached to me in the backyard.
I surely could not stand it.
The splintering cadence of his voice echoed
almost comfortably with my annoyance.
The grass blades outside the window
They bounced with the weight of raindrops and bending pressure of the wind.
The sky held grey all for me.
I couldn't break hypnosis with this point in time.

Riley Welch

Monday, June 12, 2017


The clouds hung so, very, low
but I knew when I left for the day
they would be cleared.

That thought brought a tear to the corner of my right eye,
because this was something I could not change.

It was hit and sticky. And my only protectors, were the low hung clouds.

Riley Welch

Saturday, June 10, 2017

not well

This is not a good
Haiku. But it's the best I
Could seem to  do now.

Riley Welch

Wednesday, June 7, 2017


Working hard to write with emotion.
Or working hard to be an emotional writer.
I work on telling,
though I sometimes ponder this advice.
And how to do it.
My computer shown red, light coming through a large umbrella over head.
Keeping the hot sun off my part.
Avoiding a sunburnt scalp.
Thinking on it, that would also shine red.

Riley Welch

Monday, June 5, 2017

Not a Saturday

Everything added up felt so reflective.
He was just a small dog.
He didn't know how big the world was.
All the roads looked the same.
Everything with four legs was just another him.
Everything with two was just another Mary.
Trying to imagine the world with his small truth.
Was just too much.
It could not be done.

Riley Welch

Saturday, June 3, 2017


Wind echoed around me in a way I had forgot about.
There were no free seconds anymore.
A certain disappointment made its way from the coffee I drank to the depths of my stomach.
And the tartness of a blueberry gave me cross crossed goosebumps.
I missed all the days I thought about this more.
Or thought about anything more, really.

Riley Welch

Wednesday, May 31, 2017


I lost my thoughts down a wishing well
and didn't how to get them back.
The bucket's string was worn to thin,
and when I sent it down,
it never came back.

I went mad pacing around a garden.
All I could do
was wish for them to come back.

Riley Welch

Monday, May 29, 2017

Coffee Shop Car Wreck

Coffee shopping
parking lot

Oh, I backed right into you there, didn't I.
My mistake.

Do you have your license? Insurance?
You scuffed me there.

Yes, but it's just a scuff, do you really need my information?

Yeah, ya know. I think I do. Who are you anyway? Thinking you can get off here?

I don't think I can get out of here, I'm just saying, if you had knocked a stone off a ledge or something, it would have had the same effect.

Okay dude, but I didn't hit a f____ stone off a well trimmed garden's edge. Are you for real?

Woah, wow, no need to get so aggressive. What is up here?

God, for REAL. You are a piece dude. A piece.

Riley Welch

Saturday, May 27, 2017


We circled the block
over and over again.
I felt like
My phone floated over my fingers and slipped away.
I saw lights on in the doorway, but no one was there.
To me it felt hopeless, I couldn't face them,
or anyone else.
The coffee didn't perk me up and
I drowned in shower under the weight of the air.

Riley Welch

Wednesday, May 24, 2017


I had a dream about everyone in the world.
That everyone reborn is just everyone else.
And I felt overwhelmingly lonely.
The thought of being surrounded
by so many, but really,
just me
is too alone for me to handle.

Riley Welch

Monday, May 22, 2017


I guess writing,
Everyone seems to.
I wonder who listens to these thoughts I leave.
Especially when they have no direction.

Riley Welch

Saturday, May 20, 2017

6 Pills

I hate that best
and chest rhyme.
I always want to find the cliche in it.


I wish you the best, with a pain in my chest.
Don't walk away now, no I can't see you frown.

Gagged. Saliva.

No, really, I just can't listen to that.

Too dramatic?

I don't know.

Riley Welch

Wednesday, May 3, 2017

I'm currently in the last week of my undergraduate degree. I've also been thrown off with a nasty case of contact dermatitis. Between this, and finals rapidly approaching, I will be postponing posts for the next two weeks. 

Expect to hear from me May 20th, (the day of my graduation (!!!)), when I will resume my regular posting schedule. 

For anyone who's missed it in the past, this will mean Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday, as I've been doing for the last three years. 

Room 200

I knew what was coming,
I predicted it in a dream,
where the ceiling shattered,
and crystals fell around me.

Riley Welch

Monday, May 1, 2017


I had a nightmare about zombies,
and all my friends had turned,
and I was alone,
and pretty scared,

and then I got up early,
because as soon as my eyes opened,
and realized it was fake,
there was no way I would close my eyes again.

Riley Welch

Saturday, April 29, 2017


Slept too long
day drawn on
brain melting
or frozen in time. 

Slept too long
hours tick off
one at a time
I couldn't think of a rhyme. 

Slept too long
made mistakes but now they're gone
said goodbye, 
but I was wrong. 

Where's tonight? 

Riley Welch

Wednesday, April 26, 2017

All Across a Campus

I liked the days best
when the clouds hung low
touching the top branches of the trees.
I pictured the dew,
start there, and then move down the trunk
hopping leaf to leaf
slowing sprinkling the grass
when it reached it
The sun filtered through
soft and light
all at the same time.
The air was heavy,
padded with water drops I though I'd missed.
It was my favorite kind of morning.

Riley Welch

Monday, April 24, 2017

Too Tall

A wave
came over me
like it always does
and I tried to shake it off
but I felt this pull,

Riley Welch

Saturday, April 22, 2017


The font flowed
I kept thinking of weird repeats. 
Bloody, maybe. 
Everything felt hard lately. 
Not difficult. 
But this a certain toughness. 
I couldn't chew threw and regretted that. 

Riley Welch

Wednesday, April 19, 2017


I could feel my cheeks split open
blood poured into my mouth
I thought it would be warm
but it felt cold.
I spit up mouthful after
mouthful of crude red
mixed with saliva,
it didn't turn pink, pooled in
my cheeks, holding it like
nuts for the winter.
My teeth gleamed so white
in the contrast.
My gums acting as grey
between the red and white.
I didn't know I had it in me.
Cheeks suck in like dimples,
popped like biting into a grape.

Riley Welch

Monday, April 17, 2017


I coughed up everything I'd forgotten about.
I remembered them when my throat itched the next day,
vomited up what I felt I could muster.
Cold like the day before.
Ice from my center
that my stomach couldn't warm.
The bite of acid wasn't there
and snow fell from my mouth,
crystallized individuality in each flake.
Jaw clenched, tension, and locked.
I forgot to hold my tongue
and swallowed it down
choking as it went.

Riley Welch

Saturday, April 15, 2017


Getting harder and harder to be on time.
I need a lazy productive morning.
Things can be both, you know.

Or at least.
I can try.

Riley Welch

Wednesday, April 12, 2017

3 3 Line Friday Thoughts

Too much caffeine was a bad idea
and I knew it
but I really, really couldn't stop.

Here I'm shaking
nodding really subtle
but I know it's not.

Hot walks
this sweater is too thin
but it's shape is so lovely.

Riley Welch

Monday, April 10, 2017


So it's late on a Monday.

Later than usual.

The sound of the wind lacks the comfort it has when I am not scurrying across keyboards to finish my work.

I feel a sharp pinch of loss,
I felt it more strongly when the sun set.

I miss the light that I know will come back tomorrow.

I think I loved you.

I cannot wait.

Riley Welch

Saturday, April 8, 2017

2:25 PM

The walls are made of salt.
And the ground was salt.
And the ceiling was salt.
And the air was wet.
And all the linings of your body.
Leaked water.
Because of osmosis.
Sucking it outward.
How long can you hold your breath?
Would it even make a difference if you could?
Is it blood, life, Earth?
Could you drown your body in water?

Riley Welch

Wednesday, April 5, 2017


Surely I've posted
about the way words wound before.
I'm mesmerized at how you learn words.
Follow letters.
How do you picture letters and words.
I don't know.
I wish I did.

Riley Welch

Monday, April 3, 2017


The color teal pressed itself into my eyelids and I saw a firework sprawl.
Explode behind what was left.
I pictured giggling women.
Beach frolicking.
Filling dark bathtubs
in awe.
Surprised by the way corsets laced up
and left intricate marks
on the ones I've loved.
My entrancement is like worship
until I've run out of water.
Oh. Please.

Riley Welch

Saturday, April 1, 2017


Wishing well lost my coins
I feel like I'm out of luck
I wonder if they'll drown
just sink.

Riley Welch

Wednesday, March 29, 2017


My eyelids can barely stay open.
I blame myself for this, though.
I really -
Maybe not everything has to go onto paper.
No matter it's relief.

Riley Welch

Monday, March 27, 2017


I need to get more ambitious.
Like the plateau of weight loss
I wonder what will come of me writing three poems a week
over and over and over,
until it becomes second nature.
Will my learning reach a halt?
How do I push myself further,
and continue supporting my other aspects of life.
I have this worry,
that by furthering some parts of my life,
I'm pushing myself back in others.
It's as though I can't decide where I want to go and what I want to be.
I'm just doing my best.
Writing three poems a week.

Riley Welch

Saturday, March 25, 2017


Days turned into weeks
the way they do.
I didn't miss them,
but I felt the same way I do at the end of each day.
As the sun turns gold and sends shadows across my room.
A bit sad that there is ending, because no one likes an end,
but mixed with happiness
for the night that lies ahead.
And the fresh morning even farther,
before the sun, once more, sets.

Riley Welch

Wednesday, March 22, 2017


The doves had returned above my house,
constantly cooing.

"I hear you, I hear you!"

I try to relay.

But it continues until I am driven mad by the repeating.

Just please, don't shit on my car today.


Monday, March 20, 2017


This is a haiku.
It is not a good haiku.
But I am sleepy.

Riley Welch

Saturday, March 18, 2017


Creep crawling sudden stares
wrapped up like linen, I don't think I care.
Wooden boards hang down,
so low,
high up?
I'm watching out.

Riley Welch

Wednesday, March 15, 2017


Something felt wrong or missed
so my stomach dropped.
As it always does.
Thank god it doesn't literally,
it would touch my toes by now.
Dropping out the bottom and running along.
So sweet and sad.

Riley Welch

Monday, March 13, 2017


Sing song,
lyrics so loud,
I lost myself
in the clouds
your arms
felt strong
It felt
at least
like something,
with more gravity.

No, no.
That's not the correct word.

I think I've lost it.
I felt the mist spray,
or I heard it.
Now I can't remember.
Maybe it was something else.

The espresso machine pressing grounds?
Why can't I recall.

I feel like I love you,
so does that mean I do?
I hope so.
So easy.
In a good way.
For, really, anything.

Riley Welch

Saturday, March 11, 2017


Lightning struck in an 'X' like the curves of a woman's body.
Where they met,
her waist sucked in.
And in a flash the thunder called
and she was gone.

Riley Welch

Wednesday, March 8, 2017


Notes for days
stress for
Maybe it's days too.
I don't know.
I wanted to write a beautiful poem.
But I could not force the words out.

Riley Welch

Monday, March 6, 2017


I saw lights about to break at the horizon.

But cars never came over the other side.

Riley Welch

Saturday, March 4, 2017


You should remember you are beautiful.
And even if it isn’t all there is. It’s still nice to think about it sometimes.
And that’s alright

Riley Welch

Wednesday, March 1, 2017


Maybe you
should focus
on being sad
or being right
or being wrong
about all the chores
I've ever had.

Riley Welch

Monday, February 27, 2017

Too high up

The clouds filtered over the moon.
Sung songs so sweet I cried tears straight to God.
Do you hear me now?
What is left unanswered when the wind blows over and out like this?
God, the air is so cold.

Riley Welch

Saturday, February 25, 2017

UQT (Unworldly Things)

I think all could be solved with a shot of caffeine.

A perk.
Suppress some sleepiness.

Or other unworldly things.

Riley Welch

Wednesday, February 22, 2017

Almost There

Weight is so
great today.
I feel heavy
confident in the
weight holding me down.

Riley Welch

Monday, February 20, 2017


Red curve
curls slopping.
I cannot lose
anything I've created.
I hope.

Riley Welch

Saturday, February 18, 2017


My hands aren't even
and I feel like
there's an art
in all my outstretched
Listen to me.

Riley Welch

Wednesday, February 15, 2017

[ ]

My attention span has
begun to affect all
corners of my tiny, tiny

Riley Welch

Monday, February 13, 2017


Sometimes when I can’t sleep I write aimless poetry
afterwards I’m always exhausted
I think words back up inside me and my brain can’t turn off until they’re gone
I think it’s a blessing
it could be a curse
it’s probably only worth while if what I’m writing is something people want
but it’s what I want
so there’s that
sometimes I think about my voice
about how I come across in every poem I’ve written
I think maybe I can keep it
I think maybe I won’t have to change it to something different
maybe if I send my work out to enough people
someone eventually will take it and decide it’s good enough
I’m not against editing
or corrections
or anything like that
but I don’t want to alter what I am and who I am
so that I have pretty metaphors
illustrating the way your body is a comet
instead of the comet’s actually circling outside your window
I just want to feel like I have something
deep down inside me that’s worth something and does something
instead of this inescapable vomit that I can’t stop from coming up
even if it’s no good at all.

Riley Welch

Saturday, February 11, 2017


This tiny notebook
has so many pages
I worry
I will never
fill it up.


Wednesday, February 8, 2017


Two years ago, almost
to the day I wrote out a lovely piece that captivated,
I don't know,
probably someone,
definitely me.
I haven't been able to recreate a poem in the same burst.
Oh. Oh. Oh,

I miss it.

Riley Welch

Monday, February 6, 2017


Rounded out.
God I missed her.
She felt soft.
Which is a bad
Because they're always soft.

But not like her.

Riley Welch

Saturday, February 4, 2017


All feeling.
I drove through darkness
and felt lost.
Words come to me in a quick second. but.
For reasons I cannot explain.
I let them come and leave. The pressure
of not having a job with them.
Calmed me.

Riley Welch

Wednesday, February 1, 2017

The Wolverine Farms Collection

If you regularly read my blog (do I have regulars? That would be super cool, thanks y'all) you know when I finish a notebook I write a poem to it. They aren't particularly fancy, but they help me finalize the notebooks end. This notebook was bought in Fort Collins and took me much too long to fill up. 

So stretched out and long.
I was told it wasn't plot.
I was building character,
long and hard.

All, so, drawn, out.

I became exhausted.
And I slumped.
just somehow.

You let me write through it.

I'm not sure how.
But thank you.

I am so full of gratitude.

Riley Welch

Monday, January 30, 2017


Comets outside my window
seem to circle and then connect.
I have hopes
to connect back at
you know
where time ends
and circle back.
I wish
in some ways
that I didn't get it
that I got it absolutely.
No in-betweens.

Riley Welch

Saturday, January 28, 2017


Quick little
I think
I don't know
sorry, don't forget me.
Or, they. Not.
Thing and slow and swirly.

There's spinach stuck between my back two teeth.

Riley Welch

Wednesday, January 25, 2017


I had some idea
for a great piece of
but, I lost it
or forgot it

Riley Welch

Monday, January 23, 2017


A part, so centered
so well, split
torn up the valley
or down the middle.

Riley Welch

Saturday, January 21, 2017


How do I lay it all out.

Like lyrics on a page.

The chorus is always what catches me.

How to repeat it

over and over

in rhythm anyone could sing.

Riley Welch

Wednesday, January 18, 2017

Screwed Up

A scab healed over
my burned knuckle.
This brought both
relief from the tenderness
and a slight itch.
The latter was quite uncomfortable
it meant that it was not infected
which I was thankful for.
It was a careless injury.
A knuckle pressed to a hot pan
a slip.
My brain couldn't react fast enough.
Too, too bad.

Riley Welch

Monday, January 16, 2017

Hopeful, just yet

The 13th,
I'm thinking of it
with some fondness
the morning is fresh
so I have all the hours
to do with it
what I want.

Riley Welch

Saturday, January 14, 2017


I feel much better
which might be shitty
but I don't think I care.

Riley Welch

Wednesday, January 11, 2017


When you move place to place
you stay light and quick
get rid of what you don't need
keep what you do.

Everything I own fits in my car.

I can sleep anywhere if I need to.

The longer you stay,
the heavier you get.
Your things sink into the ground your house grows on
and the roots lock in as deep as they can hold.

18 years seems so long to then rip the bandaid.
I have friends who have lived in the same house their whole life.

I've got a few constants.
They feel like comfort.

I can never find light switches in unfamiliar bathrooms.
I find myself zombie walking in the dark.

I wonder if some day I'll let the sand settle down into cracks.
Grow heavy, sink.

I can't imagine keeping myself in one place for more than 6 years.

But I'm sure I'll lose track of time eventually.


Monday, January 9, 2017


love bubbles
it always bubbles
I think of emotion
as a pot heats up.
I wonder what a boil over signifies.

Riley Welch

Saturday, January 7, 2017

12:02 am

I decided I was done.
So I am.
Finish up.

Riley Welch

Wednesday, January 4, 2017

Room 1302

Motivation is easy for,
date at night
my brain is a tank
and I am an idiot

held full

submarine is a word
that makes perfect sense

I love the overlap of language.

I've got blisters and dreams

catch me, but I don't think you can.

Riley Welch

Monday, January 2, 2017


I'm sorry
because you're a good notebook
but I feel sort of
stuck in you

I need to write
again and again

to get over it.

Out of it

Move to

a new.

Something fresh and


Riley Welch