The Collected Works of Nicholas Cottrell
Collected Works, Vol. 1
Disclaimer and Copyright Notice: All works within are copyrighted to Nicholas
Cottrell, hereafter known as "the author". Unauthorized copying is prohibited.
Each reader is authorized to make five (5) copies and distribute them in any manner as long as profit is not gained. This contains subject matter that you may find disturbing or inappropriate. Please do not read it if you think you may become offended.
Table of Contents:
1. "Spring" - The one romance poem in here.
2. "Spiral's End" - a poem of revenge
3. "Of Teenage Sorrow" - A short story
4. "Nomad" - loneliness in writing
5. "Frat Boys" - anti-drinking
6. "Reflected Waves" - a poem of surprise at oneself
7. "Phoenix" - a poem of redemption
8. "My Friend In Misery: An Ode to Missa" - a poem of thanks
9. "Bleeding" - a poem of being drained
10. "Observations of Corporations" - A partial view of life.
11. "Fallen Hero" - Read the disclaimer
12. "Singularity" - the one way out
13. "Short Views" - More views on life Introduction
A while back, my poetry won me a statewide award. Ever since, I've been pressured to make a compilation of some of my crap and send it around to be published. This collection is just a bunch of stuff I threw together, not much thought to it. If you like it, tell me so! My e-mail address is GAFreak@aol.com, write me. I'll write back each and every person by hand, I promise.
Well, on with the show, I suppose.
1. "Spring" A rose with gentle petals in the garden grows amongst the weeds
Love, like the rose thrives in life's turmoils like the carefully planted seed
- Nicholas Cottrell
2. "Spiral's End"
Too long have I spent Explaining what I've meant Too long have you heard my ominous words Whimpering, you cry on your knees, you die.
3. "Of Teenage Sorrow"
A child's cries in the night awaken the mother, who stumblingly finds her way to the crib. Is it a bottle, or a diaper change? The mother does not know. Inadequacy fills the teenage mother, and blinds her to the child's needs.
"Rot in Hell, kid." she mutters, crawling back into a bed where a father should be but wasn't. The child's unrelenting tears force her from her nighttime reverie, abd drag her back to the nursery. "Shut up, kid!" she growls drowsily.
"Don't you know I have school tomorrow?" But the baby does not know, and her howls fill the night. Lights come on in neighboring apartments, and shouts reach her ears.
"Shut that kid up!"