High Desert Art
  • Jeanette Collins
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  • Page II Sculpture
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Furlough

4/30/2017

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Picture
*Duy Huynh* Half Life
Furlough

I’m
Saturated
With
Politics.
The
Nation’s
In
A
Terrible
Fix,
Spies
And
Thieves
In
Charge,
Dirty
Tricks
And
Lies
At
Large,
With
Dark
Deeds
To
Satisfy
The
Needs
Of
Avarice
And
Greed.
I’d
Like
A
Little
Cottage
Some
Where
Obscure,
Where
I could
Garden
And
Be
Pure, 
With
Nothing
To
Endure
But
Sun
Light
And
Bird
Song.
A 
Dozen
Long
Summers
Would 
Do,
Though
I’d
Take
A
Very 
Few.
Let’s
Go
There,
Just
We
Two.
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Request

4/28/2017

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Picture
*Change* Cast Bronze 3 7/8" H X 2 1/4" W
Request

I know 
That
I will
Die, 
But
Please,
Death,
Be
Lenient,
And
Don’t
Make 
It
Inconvenient.
Of
Course,
It
Won’t
Be
Funny
To
Outlast
My 
Money,
So
Don’t
Open
That
Pearly
Gate
Too
Late.
On
The
Other
Hand,
I’ll
Certainly
Understand
If
You
Decide
To
Abide
Before
You
Cast 
Me
Off
The
Merry
Go
Ride,
Just
Know
I have
A
Ways
To
Travel
Before
My
Days
Unravel,
So
I would
Appreciate
To
Not
Yet
Meet
My
Fate.
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Overcast

4/26/2017

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Picture
*Cat In The Wind* Painter Factory
Overcast

The
Wind
Blown
Trees
Moan
And
Move
Like
Water
Waved
But
Caught,
Rooted
To
The
Spot,
The
Sea
Far
Beneath.
The
Timeless
Sky
Above
Is
Fitted
Like
A
Glove,
To
Take
The
Strain,
And
Squeeze
Out
Rain.
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Nature, Etcetera

4/24/2017

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Picture
Nature, Etcetera

I worry
About
My
Holly
Tree.
The
Spikey
Leaves
Turn
Brittle
Brown,
And 
Fall
To
The
Ground
All
Around.
I’ve
Feared
The
Worst,
But
Lo,
A
First.
Today
I see
Blossoms
Forming,
White
And
Small,
So,
After
All,
If
I hold
A
Hopeful
Breath,
The
Holly
May
Yet
Cheat
Death.
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*Clear*

4/22/2017

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Picture
*Christopher Clark* Tightrope Tango
*Clear*

I need
To
Take
Something
For
My
Heart,
To
Get
It
To
Start.
A
Jolt,
A
Thunder
Bolt.
A
Pink 
Pill
To
Restore
The
Thrill,
A
Potion
To
Instill
The
Will
To
Risk
The
Dance,
Take 
Another’s
Hand,
Hope
They
Understand
And
Possibly
See
The
Wandering
Soul
Disguised
As
Me.
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No, No, No.

4/20/2017

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Picture
No, No, No.

Another
Rejection
Letter
Came. 
Funny 
How
They’re
All
The
Same, 
Words
Pushed
Around 
In
A
Frame.
An
Arrow
Slit
Opens
Into
The
Castle,
But
Getting
In
The
Gate
Is
A
Hassle.
There
Are
Volumes
About
The
Perfect
Query,
All
Of
Which
Make
Me
Weary
With
Their
Ebullient
Form.
Requests
For
A
Fragment
Is
Often
The
Norm,
As
If
The
Begats
Were
Liable
To 
Be
The
Whole
Bible.
I lack
The
Common
Dream
Or
Taste,
It’s
All
A 
Hopeless
Waste. 
I’ve
Labored
A
Lifetime
To
Be
Decidedly
Me,
And
Convey
The
World
I see.
Editors
Exist
To
Change
And 
Rearrange
Every
Letter,
But
Will
It
Make 
It
Better
Or 
Just
Tailor 
It
To
Fit?
That’s
A
Thing
They
Can’t
Know,
So
They
Forget,
And
Sent
Out
Insincere
Regret.
But
Enough
Of 
My 
Guff.
Too 
Bad
For
Me
If 
I like
My 
Own
Stuff.
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Black Bird

4/18/2017

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Picture
Allegory Gallery Photo
Black Bird

Papa
Starling
Is
Back.
In
The
Slanting
Sunlight
He 
Is
Bright
Black,
Then
Velvet
Brown
When
He
Turns
Around,
Then
A
Sheen
Of
Emerald
Green
Can
Be
Seen.
Half
Again
As
Large
As
Those
In
His
Charge,
A
Commanding
Ruff
Of
Feathers
At
His
Throat,
In
His
Dark
Rainbow
Coat
And
Beak
Of
Hansa
Yellow, 
He’s
A
Stately
Fellow.
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Evening

4/16/2017

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Picture
*Christopher Jackson*
Evening

Backlit,
The
Red
Roses
Are
Black,
Leaves
In
Between
Shadowed
Green.
Stems
Of
Elegantly
Slim
Design,
Fracture
At
The
Water
Line,
The
Glass
Vase
A
Mottled
Bottle
Containing
Beauty
In
The
Gloom
Of
A
Darkened
Room.
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April Again

4/14/2017

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Picture
April Again

Spider
Strands
Hang 
Silvery
Suspended
In
The
Air.
I hardly
Know
They’re
There,
Until
They
Brush
Across
My
Face
Like
Sticky 
Lace.
Spiders
Use
Them
To
Sail
On
The
Wind,
Not 
Knowing
The
Journey’s
End,
Blind
As
Me,
Stranded
Between
Wall
And
Tree.
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Apart

4/12/2017

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Picture
Painting by the audacious *Jack Vettriano*
Apart

We
Scarcely
Know 
Each 
Other 
Now,
As
I curtsey
And
You 
Bow.
Where 
Once 
There
Was
Heat,
We
Are
Cool
When 
We
Meet.
I’m
Not 
Displeased
To
Be
At
Ease
When 
I catch
Your 
Glance,
Now
Not
The
Gaze
Of
Romance,
But
One
Of
Guile.
I smile,
Nod,
And
Without 
A
Sigh, 
Pass 
You
By.
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