Colin Poems - Poems about Colin

Colin is a cabby with a proper taxi cab He drives for all the passengers an Uber didn’t grab Which means he has a lot of time to kill most every day And lots of evil folk to deal with if they come his way Now there’s no standard uniform for London’s black cab drivers But smart is best for...

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Don't ever vouch for drunk caffeine That it can't one show one's coffin, Now,my heart's calm rate quickening, Later,taxed vessels weakening Turns it out a search for a lift But towards Descent final drift. One begins to question its source; A system is being moved with force. The waiter in every cola: Eaters it won't make a Zola; Even one drags by the collar, My best...

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I Salute You General Colin Your Becoming The First African American Secretary Of State Your Heroism standing up for All Of Us Americans A True American Hero for all to Look Up to...

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First Black American Secretary of State, COLIN POWELL, (1937-2021) Served in the G. W. Bush, Ronald Reagan, and Jimmy Carter administrations, He said, “Success is the result of hard work…and learning from failure,” His hobby was restoring old cars; hardly knew the meaning of vacations. written January 20, 2022 especially for "A Celebrity Epitaph" Poetry Contest sponsored by Michelle Faulkner...

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Poor, addled Colin Kapernick Once a coveted NFL draft pick Made $43 million in pro football, yet finds it all unsavory Victimized! ~ Accuses team owners of slavery...

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. SUNDAYS WITH COLIN We, are all a Binary Code, Noughts and Noughts, and ones and ones; The beginnings, look like the end… and the ends, look , Like the same, as it begun! This is progress and much- much more, According to Colin, who lives next door! “It’s a binary code,” He seriously said, “You...

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Poor Mr. Colin Kaepernick Claims America is racist, inegalitarian and sick His professional football contract only pays him $11.4 million Though his clear-eyed grasp of the issues makes him worth at least a billion...

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walking through the dark long strides, not looking the eyes all on me burning, the smell of hate rising through the leaves my thoughts are coming just one of many dripping from graceful mouths she said goodbye to the airless room the men stared, some looked away droning on, so far down now dont want to look up the dirt is shoveled slovenly...

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They told marchers they shouldn’t march; screamed at sitters in busses and diners; blocked the doors to the public schools, “whites only” signs were clear reminders. They hated when black fists were raised, or when folks joined peaceful protests; they couldn’t stand their sins broadcast, were frightened by the freedom fests. While things are better, injustice still lives, and now they say that...

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Colin Powell Horn Haiku One was wise old owl I had thought of Colin Powell My face has a scowl. Have lost my respect Criticism did detect Can't be more direct. Seems like politics Of trade full of many tricks Off me always ticks. What do you think of that one? Jim Horn...

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COLIN ROSS Colin Ross the squatter man He wore a suit of black He carried a pistol on his hip And a cross of gold hung slack Deadfox Dancy looked up from his sheep ... (so called for raffling a dead fox in the pub) His shearing interrupted was it god from the devils deep and almost spoke but stuttered Yyyyyyesssirrr no fiddling in the...

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L.A ‘62. English professor George (Colin Firth) is mourning the loss of his gay partner. He's spent the day reliving memories, but that night meets his student Kenny (Nicholas Hoult), who secretly admires him, in a bar. The two end up at George’s house after a spontaneous ocean swim. Kenny has just emerged from the...

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A contemporary creature, this Tyrannosaurus Rex is not a carnivore. He delights in gnashing peanut butter sandwiches and his habitat is lush with rocks and bugs and toys And if I dare suggest he is a little boy-- his mighty roar is deafening. Its echo captures ancient pains that live in mother's heart And for a moment renders them extinct, as joy tears them apart....

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My brother could hibernate through anything. Even the nights of unmitigated fury that expelled itself in blasts of white, frothy spittle from the corners of father’s lips. He was a cocooned worm nestled in the bed at the back of my room while mom held the cheap aluminum door, maintaining our homeostasis, shut. On the other side my father, a wounded creature Hissing, crackling, Insane. would...

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