Reworked

Select, delete,
Select, delete,
Hello pattern
Hello pride
Hello hurt
Hello hollow
Hello how do you overcome that all incasing feeling.
Let's call it a cocoon
Nothing can be gotten
Rid of
Because your brain is the worst hard drive
And it is the least efficient
It never recalls data as it was entered
Don't you wish you had photographed the bad times
Instead of blocking them out
Then maybe justification could be easier
I don't understand how it feels like I'm losing something
When it's already
Simultaneously lost
And saved somewhere else
I'm glad days keep moving
Because otherwise
I would have probably paused time
And never ever moved forward
From anything
And that is no way to live.

6/24/2015
Riley Welch

Fermented

Some days I think of the writing process

Like fermenting

The words of my poem will dance off my pen

Incredible release

Until one moment

I've used it all up

And it stops

And when I try to write

It's not bad

But it's week

Think of espresso

Compared to tea

But then, when I let all those ideas ferment.

Then they come bursting out

Like a tightly sealed jar 

Filled with carbonation

Shook to the brim until things are bursting. 

Sometimes hiatuses are good

Sometimes taking a break from forcing words on a page,

Lets me put better words on a page.

More refined,

well done.

Something I could spit out

Pouring

Overflowing

Until I am empty

With words to ferment again. 

6/20/2015

Riley Welch

Overeast

Soaking shoes

Splashed

In accidental puddles

Lovely feet with happy curled toes

Sprinting legs

With rain drop mud tracks

Painted up calfs

And pant legs

Stretched out goosebumps

Head to toe

Rumbling stomach laughter

Ending in sore stomachs belly aches

And glinting sparking's of bright green lightening bugs.

6/22/2015
Riley Welch

Faucet

Lately writing had been on or off
Like a faucet that doesn't know how to just drip

I wish it were a constant flow
Words one over another over another
But instead

It is either words
Spilling
Overflowing

Slipping down the drain before I can get them on the page

Or

It is off

Nothing garble that can barely build crumbled up letters and scattered presentation

But in the icy winter of this book

I ask for a slow
Constant
Drip

So it doesn't all freeze.

6/11/2015
Riley Welch

Mugged Disappointment Part Four

Here we have another installment of my poems about horrible coffee. As you can see this is part four - will this ever end? Will I ever reach a point in my life where all the coffee is better than the last? Or maybe at least not as bad as the coffee presented to you in my Mugged Disappointment series. So here you have it, another terrible mug:

Waking up early, groggy, and beat

I decided this morning I need a treat

Instead of taking the time to craft my usual plain brew

My favorite beverage would make this morning easier to get through

So I left a few minutes early, to swing by the shop

To get an iced drink, that espresso…drop drop drop

Not my normal coffee shop, or usual town

I figured an order so simple would not procure a frown

But when my drink was served up, opaque and heavy

I got a bad feeling this would taste messy

And I predicted the future upon my first sip

And to keep from spitting it out, bit my lip

This was burnt and bitter and very hard

And I trudged through that beverage like a caffeine filled marsh

I suddenly longed for my plain ol’ coffee

‘I paid for this!’ I thought scoffing

And for the first time it couldn’t be finished

I poured out that coffee, my pride diminished

I’ve had plenty of coffee, iced, hot, and blended

But all of these bad mugs – I’m a little offended

I really want to be done writing about bad cups of Joe

But when that will happen, I do not know

It seems my mugged disappointment will never be relieved

But in the next cup, I will always believe.

6/10/2015

Riley Welch

The Same

Maybe all these

Nonsense connections

I try and make

Are just taking up

Important head space

Dropped off and shoved out

For something better 

But now left all filled

By things that won't help me

Solve my problems

Not by a long shot

If this is like this

How is that like that

Fill in the blanks 

Do you get it? 

Do you not?

And now I'm running in circles

And can't figure out 

How to exist in this world

Without any doubt. 

6/12/2015

Riley Welch

The Burgundy Collection

If you've been reading for a while, you know that I have this blog to force myself to write. It makes me accountable for at least three poems a week. In addition to that, I write whenever I get an idea, so I carry a thin notebook with me almost everywhere I go. When I fill up a book, I write a poem about it. This one had a burgundy spine, and it's a little shorter than normal - but that's kind of how these four months felt. Enjoy!

One more book
One more binding
Of pages and pages and pages

And scribbled out thoughts -
Sometimes half empty,
Sometimes so full they're too heavy
To move off these sheets.

Pouring and pouring,
If you didn't count the repeats
Have I built a dictionary?

One made with
different inks and depths

And scribbled out,
Heart-felt and handwritten.

It's lacking definition
So maybe I've just
Scrawled a book

Three messy,
Inked up,
Strong and personal,
Books.

Goodbye burgundy,
You've been good.

6/10/2015
Riley Welch