"welch" poems
Here are the names of my lovers,
The women I sleep with, whom
I use, like they use me.
Spent, they discard me, for when their pleasure needs
Satiated, they climb aboard another man.
What they do not know,
Is that in my mind, in my ears,
everywhere,
I did not let them, or you go,
We are still romping,
For I
Take them as needed.
I need them all,
For my pleasure needs, like my unshaped heart,
Addictive, endless.
If your is name is here, I do not
Apologize.
Pink
Adele
Lilly Allen
Anna Nalick
Bess Rogers
Beyonce
Brandi Carlisle
Cat Power
Colbie Callait
Duffy
Eva Cassidy
Evanescence
Alison Sudol
Fiona Apple
Florence Welch
Grace Potter
Ingrid Michaelson
You
Joni Mitchell
K.D. Lang
Kate Nash
Kate Voegele
Leona Lewis
Lizz Wright
Madeline Peyroux
Marie Digby
Mary Wells
Norah Jones
Regina Spektor
Sara Bareilles
You
Sara Haze
Taylor Swift and Tracy Chapman
Tristan Prettyman
Vanessa Carlton
So many others, used so long ago, I can't remember the faces,
Which can't be googled.
Use them hard, use them often, more than daily.
Bluntly, I tell you
Your name is on my list,
Even if I do not disclose it.
Aug 18, 2013
Aug 18, 2013 at 9:31 AM UTC
I drove past that place
where we went to see
the fireworks and there
was some ghost of me
leaning against a ghost
of you. I saw myself
grumble "we missed
them" into your navy
striped shirt, watched
you kiss my forehead
and whisper "we'll find
others, beautiful. there
are always others."
Mar 9, 2014
Mar 9, 2014 at 1:36 AM UTC
For David Jones, 1895-1974
Poet, Artist
Pte., Royal Welch Fusiliers
One can go back to one's own home…
and everything is so changed that one is a stranger.
― Graham Greene, The Ministry of Fear
I went away, a young and foolish lad
Imagining I would go home someday
Made manly in the war, someone to respect
Admired by all in the old, familiar scenes
There was only exile. Echoes and screams
Fumbling through the flashbacks for charger clips
And stepping carefully lest the lawn explode
In dreams lit only by parachute flares
While waiting for the order for volley fire
And is the safety on? Or am I off?
Nov 11, 2018
Nov 11, 2018 at 8:01 AM UTC
I slit my wrist
you watch me bleed
I'm at risk I slit my wrist's
for you to see oh Gee oh Gee,
how much pain you've given me.
how you "truly"
mean to me,
on my wrists whats left of scars
I am hear behind these bars.
tears of guilt beyond these cheeks
lisson up to all these "freaks"
If not for you I'd take the leap,
forever week always at sleep.
glayz welch
May 11, 2013
May 11, 2013 at 10:49 PM UTC
I have only one I know
He has taught me all that I need to know
To succeed in life
He taught me how to be myself because
I was just special by MY GOD
And I was just for him, He loved as best he could
He knows all about me
He was always ther to answer questions about myself
I love how he always smells like Old Spice after shave
....... Or somthing like that......
If he leaves me..... I will no longer be me.....
I lost my Grandfather Reynolds before I could walk and have not ever
seen a picture of him
I can not lose My grandfather Welch too.....
Oh how I can only seem to atract bad to those I love so dearly.....
How I wish it werent so true......
How much does your grandfather mean to you?
I would **** to keep him with me at all times..... :'(
Feb 6, 2012
Feb 6, 2012 at 11:20 PM UTC
I'm sick of feeling
seeing or hearing.
why would I turn?
to hear that real burn?..
I don't look the best,
I'm sure not a ten,
give me a rest,
I'm stuck in this nest,.
how can I fly if you just make me cry,
why such a deal if you know how I feal...
- glayz welch
May 11, 2013
May 11, 2013 at 10:58 PM UTC
she's so pretty she looks like florence welch with her
orange hair all sweet and frazzled and her
verbena scented fair
skin skin freckled and smooth and sunny like
a ******* miracle wow you're so ******* bright and just.
**** i could kiss her face._
Aug 10, 2018
Aug 10, 2018 at 12:05 AM UTC
I am from an old beaten up cloth swing
From cloth diapers and glass bottles.
I am from the broken down siding gray and cracked.
It felt gritty under my weak hands.
I am from the dandelions growing rogue around the yard,
Waiting to be picked.
I'm from the small meals
And side glances from jealous siblings and peacekeeping parents.
I'm from the collecting cans
And saving what can be saved.
From "Save some for later"
And "Why don't you eat at your friends house tonight?"
I'm from the same second-hand dress as last week,
And sitting in the back pew.
I am from Welch and the towering mountains.
From flitters and gravy,
From the stories pa told to keep our minds preoccupied.
From the love that ma gave us to make up
For what we didn't have.
I'm from the card board box in the attic.
I am from perseverance, and surviving.
Jul 2, 2016
Jul 2, 2016 at 4:03 PM UTC
Lately I feel a lot like Lew Welch
In more ways than one
Thinking about it depresses me
The Beats seemingly forgotten son
But I know once you read his poetry
In your soul forever it will seep
You can take it with you
And from with in find your strength
So that one day you won't be gone
With out a trace...
Leaving only your jeep
Loved ones forever left to wonder
Tonight when I get home
I think I will read Ring of Bone
Dec 15, 2014
Dec 15, 2014 at 7:24 AM UTC
Ooh...this... just an amazing grace note
recalling how I felt like an ***
and wanna toot 'bout me getting steered
(as a heavy metal kid Rocker)
toward befriending a brass
see gutsy, *****
and MainLine snooty upper class
action button down
(grace fully slick as vaseline), airily glinting
forcibly hawked, laundered, and pawned
by the instrumental
Mister Deangelo O'Donnell, High School
(mud flapping, ornery hearing,
and quid juicing Ska Welch ching)
music teacher oompah crass
tone deaf when aye trumpeted desire
to master the Coronet
analogous to pursing lips
blowing tightly held grass
blade between two abetted,
cinched fastened opposable thumbs,
which tooting a supposed aural aphrodisiac
to attract a zaftig well proportioned lass
(ideally shaped like a miniature Tuba)
with one steel funnel like mouthy mass
that probably explains, how such a gal
could easily emulate
****** pucker earning pass
to illustrious honorable first chair
and blasts gratitude akin
as Gabriel would declare
heavenly expressions conducting
angels thru atmospheric ether
alighting on mortal ushering melody
with rites of harkening
springtime Renaissance Faire
solar rays golden raiment
splays rainbow fragments off
beveled, bellowed, and
bedecked polished flare
audiological sound waves trick
saw toothed reflected
silhouetted orchestral shadows
to dance as conductor's baton gear
musicians horns ensemble
epochal feast to hear.
Jul 15, 2018
Jul 15, 2018 at 3:12 AM UTC
there
in the pause
somewhere between sleep and awake
between night and dawn
the shadows move
and the voices begin
is it in my head
or just another reality
am I home or just visiting
what is real and what is imagination
I drop like a sack
off the back of a truck
and hit the mattress
felt like a dream
had me hypnotized
(RIP: Bob Welch)
May 17, 2016
May 17, 2016 at 9:23 PM UTC
Just love me for the differences.
No matter what the difference is,
In times of rain,
Or times of pain,
No matter what the issue is.
Love me like a kid loves cake,
Or clouds love rain,
Or how biggie loves T bone steak, cheese, eggs and Welch’s grapes,
Love me like Martin loves Gina,
How Polo G love Piano in his beats
Be so real,
Be the truth,
Love me like candy rain
And let me be so into you.
Let me be your Brown Sugar,
And you be my baby boo.
Like Love Jones,
Poetic Justice,
Let me be the Mj to,
Your Peter Parker
Love me through the multiverse,
or every timeline in the universe
Love me correctly,
Love me gently,
Love through the beauty and the struggle,
Like Corinthians 13:4-7
With kindness, patience.
Trusting and never failing.
Love me through the ugly and the pretty.
On my worst days when things seem dreary.
Love me even when things get complicated,
In times when it’s easier to stream PND and get kinda faded.
When struggle consumes love and we’re just irritated.
Despite it all let our love stay unshaken.
Just love me through the differences.
No matter what the difference is,
Because love is an art that’ll never reach perfection.
The imperfections of affection is what makes it authentic,
So just love me like this poem,
Hard hitting and genuine.
Mar 29, 2025
Mar 29, 2025 at 12:33 PM UTC
Sadness is a badness
A disease of desperate unease
An ugly difficult anomaly
That brings me to my knees
It enters the room
On its own terms
Without a warning
As welcome as germs
Like a kick in the ******
It hurts like hell
Bringing on the confusion
Of words misspelled
I can't ****** help it
What do I do
It grips on so tight
Like a terrier with a chew
A minute, an hour,
A day, sometimes a week
There's no rhyme or reason
For how long I feel bleak
And bleak is how I feel
During the spell
Bleak, numb, disabled
Desperately unwell.
Single, solo
Alone, on my own
Deeper and deeper
Heavy as a stone
I don't want it to happen
Not ever, at all
Like rabies, like syphilis
Like headbutting a wall.
It changes my mind
And the way that I act.
It makes me go silent
I feel like a ****
I cancel appointments
Welch out of dates
Then worry for ages
That I've upset my mates
My pain, my heart ache
Nobody knows
They may have similar
But they don't have my foes
So next time you see me
And I'm not quite myself
Please give me some space
And wish me good health
Please give me some time
To get back to being
To get back to feeling
And hearing and seeing
For when I am happy
My world is amazing
And when I am sad
My world is hell raising
Sadness is a badness
A disease of desperate unease
An ugly difficult anomaly
That brings me to my knees
Oct 24, 2019
Oct 24, 2019 at 1:28 PM UTC
DIE WANDLUNG
(THE TRANSFORMATION)
In this house where I
a child grew snow has entered
drifts where I have dreamed
plays inside(where once I watched
it fall outside) in wonder.
*
ICH WEISS...ICH WEISS!
(I KNOW...I KNOW!)
Snow climbs the stair where
once I had head over heels
charged down to see it
begged like the child I was then
to go outside...inside...now.
*
DU BLEIBT...DU BLEIBT!
(YOU REMAIN...YOU REMAIN!)
Snow eager to see
me after such long ago
roams through room after
room...mindless now of time it
human now...I...the falling.
*
DER HIMMEL HINABSTEIGT
(THE SKY DESCENDS)
I watch Time grow old
see it fail to remembeer
what it should remem...
this house & I falling through
its fingers...lettting us go!
*
AUFGABE
(RELINQUISHMENT)
Language strolling down
memory lane...picking its fruit
laughter & sadness
growing from the same branches
tasting now bitter...now...sweet.
*
WELCH EIN SPIEL
(WHAT A GAME!)
All my life I've been
saying 'NO! ' to YES & 'YES! '
to NO...knowing I
know nothing of everything
I should know...could know...but...don't.
*******
Mar 17, 2018
Mar 17, 2018 at 3:37 PM UTC