Colin Pickett

Colin Pickett Poems

I erased this poem
several times before,
unable to describe
artistically the intense
...

What will wake me
from my slumber

is keeping me
...

Remembrance is a desert;
a harsh and lonely land.
Where precious thoughts are buried,
and dreams are lost in sand.
...

Her cursive made
me sick-
like overinflated
balloons they choked
...

Between the trees the
starshine night grows
to fill the air.
Between here and West,
...

It was easier than I had thought it would be,
no hesitence or penitent sorrow.
I came, I saw, I conquered.
Easy as cherry pie.
...

The orange sky
of night, smiled
on the still
clouds of breath
...

Fair ye ageless winds
blow on this fateful morn.
And most exalted heaven,
my efforts do not scorn.
...

9.

Sitting on the truck,
a bare coyote carcass,
thin and lean like a grayhound.
...

Her taxi had left.
Shw was late for her meeting.
The morning flight was delayed.
...

Gnarled 5-Irons
and askew putters
plagued the
battle field.
...

We ignore the churchbells.
Our free-will traps our minds,
and we become lost in
options that have no ends.
...

How coldly the orifaces of her soul burned,
yet I thirst, hunger, and yearn for the fire
that was, and is now muted by desire, decay
and sins of the flesh.
...

The pales contours of her body
sank into the image behind her; gray
waves and skies and sand
exposed her
...

Bric-a-brac planks and posts
of wilting fences
guard the gnarled sage
and cheat grass from the
...

Passing by,
friendless creatures
bruied under the desert sky.
...

He cried

as the lights and sounds came
crashing
...

Tamed humanity has won its prize.
Unnamed victory has scarred the earth.

All that was,
...

The field- holes and hills-
sat smoothly on her skin.
Cold marble embracing
her waist; a kiss of
...

Solace in tea,
vapors of places
beyond her.
She is set stone.
...

The Best Poem Of Colin Pickett

Made In China

I erased this poem
several times before,
unable to describe
artistically the intense
rage I felt upon finding
a hard, pink, Chinese
eraser. It was indescribable.
Something inside exploded.
After annoyedly fumbling though
baskets looking for
that familiar squishy sensation
and finding
the cold, hard, remains
of a previously
acceptable product.
Believe me, I have
nothing against the Chinese
or China. But honestly
China,
I dont like your erasers.
Stay out of my house
and baskets,
or at least make
your erasers squishy.
Its comforting like
a pacifier or friction.
And please, think of
something more creative than,
MADE IN CHINA.

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