A Sparrow's Thoughts.... (Number Four)
we go to war because we're
afraid to lose what we dont own!
because we are fed the propaganda
of the elite, who use the bodies
of our young men and women to
make change!
because we have been numbed by
ignorance, and have been led like
sheep to the slaughter...
because we are afraid to take on
the responsibility of being human!
because by our indifference we allow
ourselves to be!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Answers The Call
black feathered wings,
with marble tips.
eyes covered by shell,
blood stained lips.
lost somewhere between,
sky, and the fall.
limping with hesitation,
still answers the call.
with mortal bruises
in the shadow of immortality.
takes the final curtain,
senses raw with spirituality....
destined to be human
by a God who longs,
to put form to hunger,
discover light in the dawn!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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I Dreamt... (The Turning)
i dreamt...
i slowly unbuttoned
your blouse in
the semi-darkness.
the faint smell of
your wanting filled
the room...
i was stunned
to find your chest split open.
i could see your heart
beating with hunger.
i softly caressed it,
and could feel the turning,
of time and season,
want and desire.
then suddenly you were gone,
leaving dust on my fingertips,
and an aching in my soul!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Personal Path To Liberation!
my own personal path
...to liberation began with
.....me admitting my own
personal failures and mistakes,
and taking ownership of them!
i would think
...it would be the same
.......for each of us....
by admitting we're human,
we begin to see as a human,
to accept the human....
in each and all!
only then can we begin
...to approach infinity...
and to see forever in a moment!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Unconscious
every thing i've ever written
in an unconscious love song
to life.
a celebration, a dance,
a prayer.
making love to the wind and rain.
listening to the unspoken tears
of a child.
believing, that even through
the darkest night
a new dawn is coming.
no matter how hard i've tried,
(and i have)
i just havent been able to
form the wordless into words.
maybe that's why i'm still here!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Made In America
went to the funeral
this morning...
men and women of all ages,
all backgrounds, all colors,
stood in line to pay respect.
workers, laid off workers,
workers without hope
of a job....
we viewed the body,
the preacher said kind words,
bringing back memories...
then to the graveyard.
buried beneath an old tree
in a corner soon forgotten...
the headstone read:
[...] Read more
poem by Eric Cockrell
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The Passion, The Fire!
where lies the passion,
and where lies the fire?
i walk the path of your body
from a distant shore!
the trembling scent
of an old book long unopened,
my hands covered with ashe
as i stir the embers.
a gust of wind?
a broken glass...
the key turns in the lock
with protesting moan.
wax figures half melted,
a locket in the ashtray.
morning whimpers and comes,
as if it never left!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Voting In Egypt
they're voting in Egypt
this morning....
they had all the oppression
they could take...
and they rose up
at the risk of their lives,
and took their country back!
will we have to follow
in their footsteps?
how many will have to die
before we can restore our dignity?
when you have nothing left
to live for....
then the price of your life isnt much!
freedom calls, will we answer?
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Your Choice!
stop the senseless killing!
right here, right now!
murder is murder.
nothing you own or possess
is worth the price of a human life...
killing never brings peace!
the bombs you drop
you lack of faith.
the bodies you bury
in the shallow ditch your children.
only God knows the price you pay,
only you know the God you face!
every action brings either
life or death... your choice!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Flesh And Bones, And Blood!
the family farmer,
the factory worker,
the construction worker,
the truckdriver...
the backbone of America!
these are the people
you've chosen to persecute,
to abuse, and throw away...
you've cut off your hands,
and started a revolution...
your fathers, your mothers,
hardworking, and honest.
the flesh and bones, and blood...
the heart and the soul...
what are you thinking now?
poem by Eric Cockrell
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