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