Deck Of Cards
a deck of cards
missing the Jack of Hearts....
a revolver on the table,
one chamber empty...
an old family Bible,
the inscription page torn out...
a broken pane in the window
that the sun never hits.
a bottle of whiskey,
half empty, or half full.
an old rug by the chair,
that the dog slept on.
a grandfather clock,
hand stuck at midnight...
an old truck, broken axle....
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Take, Take, Take!
vomit, crying,
gut wrenching,
slap in the face....
America's indifferent hunger
swallows it's own poor,
drowning in their jobless stupor....
take, take, take!
now nothing left
but the crumbs of greed,
falling from the chins
of the unsuspecting;
who blindly followed,
in the name of God,
wearing patriotic boots....
souls made of the flesh
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Where I Wait!
bandaging the wound
with hands that dont connect
to your heart,
am i real? just a ghost?
a wisp of smoke,
the faint taste of rain?
stop running!
the riverbed is dry.
and the sound of the crows,
all that can be heard.
the cup on the windowsill,
empty and untouched!
the small child races
barefoot through the garden,
the paper turned yellow,
the inkwell is dry...
cobwebs in the corner
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Identity
the only identity i have
that will remain...
is in the eyes... of small
children, hungry and orphaned,
their families lost
to wars, earthquakes, floods,
disease, poverty...
children of different colors,
nationalities, faiths...
children without names.
i am their father, their mother,
their sister, their brother...
i am the answer to their hunger,
i am its cause.
i am their hunger!
i have no name.
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Moral Fiber!
true moral fiber...
is grounded in respect!
respect yourself!
respect the earth!
respect your neighbor!
(everyone is your neighbor)
respect the search for truth.
respect justice!
respect the rights of human beings
to be human beings!
respect the need of each and all!
living thus...
will not allow you to respect,
acts of injustice,
acts of ignorance,
acts of prejudice,
acts of greed!
be respect!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Small Victories!
small minds, small dreams,
small prayers, small God.
small thoughts, small answers,
to questions not small!
playing the race game,
the salvation game,
the mine and yours game,
the right and wrong game.
like cattle herded
unknowingly to slaughter.
every body a ticket,
to pay the fare.
bigger picture, bigger concepts,
bigger than i and me!
bigger risk, bigger world,
bigger choices, small victories.
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Stench Of Greed
God died yesterday,
without a whimper,
without a word or a thought.
nary a mention
on the six o'clock news.
and the only faith that remains
lies in mouth and stomach...
for those well fed,
and the many who starve.
the temple of the dollar
fell in on the crowd...
the prophets of dignity
burned in the flame.
yes, all that remains,
mouth and stomach...
and the earth regurgitates
at the foul stench of greed!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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America, My Lover!
i dreamed...
America died,
and woke up to find
all the great cities empty!
so i went back to the hills,
searched beneath trees,
and inside of caves.
beneath the stones
on the riverbanks...
in the deserts, atop the mountains,
till exhausted and spent,
i sat down and closed my eyes.
i dreamed you loved me again,
and woke up to find,
people walking the streets,
and cars passing by.
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Broken Shutter
a spark of fire
from the devil's forge,
a meteorite cut
from an unknown planet.
the memory of God
drawn on cave walls...
a nuclear blast,
dust forms from formless!
the heretic's trial,
fire and defiance.
cold rain falling like needles
to the frozen ground.
darkness and light;
evolve and change....
the human heart opens,
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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God Is Not....
god is not white,
not black, not Asian, not Hispanic...
not Baptist, not Jewish, not Catholic,
not Muslim, not Buddhist...
not male, not female,
not vindictive, not judgemental...
not the god of wars,
of poverty, of greed, of invasion.
god is not selfish,
not arrogant, not boastful...
god is not what you fear,
god simply 'is'...
dialogue, bridge, match...
the echo of your soul,
calling you to yourself!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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