September is Over

Bitter hearts lead to bitter thoughts,
Lead to bitter minds lead to bitter lives,
Which leads to a bitter existence.

Which is not as good as bitter chocolate - as the name may suggest.

So I am done being bitter.

I don't know if I ever was.

But I was at least on my way,
This is good for no one.

Bitter is as much hated as vinegar,

But the sweetness of honey is not what I want to create.

But a mellow taste.
Without too many specifics.

Not bland.
Not un-opinionated.
Welcoming.

And easy to remind you of what your mind wants.

Undertones of everything.
Open and broad.
The only thing lacking.

That metal-y bitter bite that drives you away.

9/30/2014
Riley Welch

Favorite Friday

This weeks favorite Friday is by my sister, Kate Welch. She is 15 and a sophomore in high school, with some serious writing skill.  This is a poem she wrote for me, and I really, really love it. Rhymes are great. 

I Love You Riley

BY: KATE WELCH

I wanna start this out with an apology
And its like Riley I love you, your my sister and yeah we argue. 
But there was a point behind that. 
I talked whack and made our mama sad. 
And that's bad, fucked up and it makes me sad. 
I can't believe I was ever glad with what I said. 
I guess I never was cause I love you to the ends of any and every earth and back. 
I'm Kate Welch, Riley's sister, you've probably heard of me and it probably helps you throw up quicker. 
But here let me just say I might be super gay, but I'm a chick who's never gonna find a clique. 
I'm lost, but who are you to judge me? 
Nudge me in every which way but at the end of the day I'm gonna have to stay the way I am. 
And that doesn't justify any of my wrongs, but that's why I don't wear thongs, and that's why and that's where I stand. 
That I'm not too bad of a person but I got some ways to go and some tolls to pay, I gotta know now that family is the only type that stays. 
And goddamn I love you Riley, you're a part of my life and I want you to holla at me. 
Any boy can't compare to the sisterly love that can be smelt even in your hair. 
You're beautiful, you're sweet, you fit the meat. 
But Riley let's face it, at the end of the day I fucked it all up. 
But here's to a new beginning I send this with luck.

SnapShots

I look back fondly,
And my stomach drops,
My excitement returns.

And I am there.
I am sky high.
Full of thinking.

Blasted backwards,
Views I remember crisp.
Take me back.

To sunset-y mountain tops
Capped with clouds
Rolling horizons
Walking for miles
Sore, aching legs loving Earth
And all it has to offer
That I was unaware of before
Damp cobblestones
And slick pavement spots
From the sky's daily down pour
Cold and hot and hills and stores and views and food and-

Take me back.

But I am here,
So I move forward
Saving for another time.

10/13/2013
Riley Welch

Water

For Kate:

A grand rain storm awakening.

Droplets pounding
Hammering the dirt to mud and over again

Forcing leaves down racing waterfall puddles
And crippling grass petals to folded bunched messes.

River beds roaring...overflowing...Folding waves one over another.

Rhythmically pushing the Earth, ripping and tearing.

    But clouds clear
    Pushed by the winds that brought the storm

Grass unfolds its broken limbs,
And the trees stretch their branches to the sky.
Thanking the sun for its drying warmth.

    But thankful for the storm,
The warm damp soil beneath their roots.

Nutrient rich mud, soft and impressionable

Tracking sweet footprint kisses, and remembering.
Soft childish giggles, throwing snowball-style mud pies.

Served with love and happiness of wild-racing-waters,
of storms past.

Bringing death,
Bringing life,

Bringing damp laughter-saturated pies,
    packed tight with silty dirt,

 Ready for creation. 

9/30/2014

Riley Welch

The Art of Language

Words are important

Because they are carefully crafted
They are heavy
They hold weight and emotion and fun
They can break bones and shatter hearts and destroy thoughts
You don't mess around with words
You don't mess around with their letters
You can't butcher what you don't know
But we all know words
We all know communication through these squiggly symbols we have no choice but to understand.

We have long luxury words that stretch out across the paper and before you even know what it says
You know
You know it looks nice
It looks elegant
It looks like a word you could not make up
But if you could make it up
It would remain the exact same
Because it is perfectly laid across the page
Like lengthy legs on a well dressed lady
It struts and turns and no moves are too rough
It's smooth and spelled perfectly.

We have short words spat on a page in sadness or rage or spite or sometimes laziness
Although that is not preferred
Those are the words you could create
In an angry sputtering
Stuttering and stumbling
To find the perfect word
To insult, to destroy, to crumble out of your lips
Sprawled across a rough edged paper
Meaningful and meaningless
Unnecessary and completely needed.

We have short sweet carrying words that move us from one thing to the next
They are everywhere
No matter how angry
Or happy
Or sad
They have to be present
To carry the language on
To make the sentence dance
Because when left on their own
They just sit, or sprawl, or lay, and don't move the thought on
You see them and you think
'My, what a (luxurious) (angry) (depressing) word'
But you have no idea why

But the why is most important
And so are the words that carry the beautiful ones on their backs
Helping thoughts from place to place
The unpaid taxi cabs of our symbolic words worlds.
Some might say the unacknowledged heroes
That bounce us back to the present past and future

Words are important.

10/13/2014
Riley Welch

Implications

Careful Rage -

Well-constructed consequences.
Thought and accepted.
Usually of the hurt.

Sneaky Rage -

Whispered in hallways,
Overheard by delicately shattering minds,
Wilting in on themselves
As a way to shrink into the background.

Hot Rage -

Typical.
Expected.
Well-known.

Cold Rage -

Hotter than hot rage,
The way scalding water leaves icy blisters
And fevers leave you shivering.

Weak Rage -

Of those who are tired,
And need anger more than sleep.


Most of the time description is not necessary.

9/30/2014
Riley Welch

Favorite Fridays

The Fish

    BY WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS

Although you hide in the ebb and flow

Of the pale tide when the moon has set,

The people of coming days will know

About the casting out of my net,

And how you have leaped times out of mind

Over the little silver cords,

And think that you were hard and unkind,

And blame you with many bitter words.