Black Caskets
abandoned boxcars,
shanty towns, and tents...
tumbleweed blown across the land.
day work, no work,
cigarettes, roll your own,
keep a fire under the pot!
old cars rusting,
just left by the road...
women and babies bathing
in service station sinks.
desperate hunger,
knock down the clerk,
grab the cash and run...
while ghostlike cities moan
and groan in the sun....
[...] Read more
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Fellatio
you took my soul
in your mouth and sucked
the colors from the last
leaves of autumn...
the snow from the night sky
before it touched the ground.
the sense of danger
from the little boy's heart,
before he climbed the tree.
the sadness from the body still,
in the casket no one dared touch.
the sound of crackling from the fire,
in the shelter of the cave...
the light from the dawn,
as if night holding on,
clinging to what has been!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
For My Mother (For Charles James)
it is by the firm,
yet loving hand of my mother
that i am here today...
she taught me to read,
mathematics, reasoning,
and to question...
most of all,
she taught me to respect!
she beat her image of God
into every fibre of my being...
i've travelled far,
and sank low many times.
but i've always heard her voice,
seen her face in the night.
i am perhaps not
what she would have wanted,
but i am definitely me.
and i am her son!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Hand
the hand on my heart
feels a lot like you,
the shadow of the stranger,
feels like clothes i have worn.
the cup on the table
is waiting to be filled.
on the plate a slice of burnt bread,
and the clock's stuck at six.
sounds i didnt hear before
resonate in the stillness.
the taste clings to my lips,
the old worn curtain blows.
and i cant for the life of me
remember what i was thinking.
my heart feels frozen
by the hand on the door!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Lonely God!
a lonely God...
from dust made flesh,
and filled it with
the haunting spirit of wind.
eyes that open
both in and out,
a fire kindled of bones!
who are we
to run blindly
into the sun?
to hide from the rain
that weeps for us?
idols made of fear,
the soul chokes the spirit.
we stand on the porch,
afraid to open the door!
dust and flesh,
[...] Read more
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Caylee's Prayer
Mommy!
why are you so angry?
you didnt want me.
you didnt love me.
you couldnt look at me,
and see yourself.
you didnt want me to talk.
what were you afraid
that i'd say?
you were so angry
you couldnt even give me away...
you couldnt allow me
a chance to live!
i'm not angry with you.
i'm free now.
no more pain, no more hurt,
no more fear...
i'm free now.
[...] Read more
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Echoes Of Oceans
why is this road so familiar?
as if my feet knew the way.
even the trees by the side
seem like old friends,
every fork is sure!
i thought i was going out,
to find freedom and salvation.
but i keep winding inward.
the soft rain that falls
feels like my own tears,
the wind smells like my heart.
the tiny shell on the shore
is smooth against my palm.
i hold it to my ear,
listening to the echoes of oceans,
where my spirit resides!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Falling Star (The Stranger)
i heard a knock upon my door;
a stranger's voice, i almost knew.
against the pleading of my soul,
i turned the key, and let him in.
'gather your things, it's time to go! '
'better yet, just leave them here.'
i rose and dressed and took his hand,
and left without looking back.
what we fear the most is sometimes the best.
what's done is done, the curtain falls.
as every creature great and small
looks upward to catch a falling star!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Good Hats And Good Boots...
enjoying the stillness of night,
the cooling hand on my brow....
so much to do tomorrow, and the heat...
but for now.... just the stillness....
my prayer for each of you...
the fabled key,
that you already have.
no need for road signs or lanterns...
the feet of your hearts know the way!
and the kiss of your most intimate longing,
the secrets that only you can know...
i will return when i can,
until then, good hats and good boots!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Just A Poem...
i am not a poet,
i am just a poem,
that the poet has not finished!
i am a block of wood
awaiting the master carver...
i am a river,
tugging at the dam!
i am straw strewn beneath the tree,
that once held the eggs of hope.
i am rice cooking on the stove,
the dirty face of the hungry child.
i am snow waiting in total silence,
the hymn of the turning leaves.
i am winter, by god,
on the stoop of spring,
i am was, is, and will be!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!