Knows
that old hawk soaring
in circles in the cloud
laden sky.... knows!
the leaves on the tree,
getting ready to turn,
and fall... know!
that old chair rocking
in the soft summer breeze,
a mind of its own... knows!
that marker in the cemetary,
half covered by brush,
forgotten... knows!
the baby born
without asking, left
in a dumpster... knows!
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Looking For Sugar!
following the trail of the ants,
past empty factory buildings.
past fields not planted.
past vacant store fronts.
past cars up on blocks,
and signs yelling 'for rent'...
following the trail of the ants,
looking for sugar!
following the trail of the sun,
from day unto night.
from family to forsaken.
from home to the road.
from god to the faces
that ring like haunted church bells,
following the trail of the sun...
looking for sugar!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Roots of Democracy
true democracy
never conquers
by force... never
walks on the rights
of any human being
in the name of profit...
never excludes anyone
because they are different.
never panders to the big
at the expense of the small!
true democracy liberates
the human inside the human...
preserves dignity by equality,
allows questioning, and doubt...
true democracy cant be bought,
and cant be sold...
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Scuffing!
blue collar people,
scuffing for work,
in their forties and fifties,
no one wants to hire....
eight dollar an hour,
ten dollar an hour,
whatever you can find...
no benefits, no health insurance...
pray you dont get sick....
emergency room visits,
broken arm, day surgery...
a bill for $15,000....
you cant pay, you cant pay...
just a few groceries,
pay a little on the rent,
scuffing for work, scuffing,
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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The Heretic Prays
the heretic kneels
by the old willow tree
alone in the darkness
with life....
and prays....
with no need for salvation,
redemption, or change....
no thought of self,
of need and want,
he just lets go...
and prays....
nameless, part of all....
formless, evolving forms.....
from soul to spirit....
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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You Who Have Never Been There....
what then doth the bird
learn from the cage?
what doth the bare limb
learn from the snow?
what doth the starving child
learn from his hunger?
what doth the homeless man
learn from the lighted window?
what doth the oppressed
learn from his oppression?
what doth the one discriminated against
learn from discrimination?
what doth the hopeless one
learn from his despair?
is it that easy for you to know,
you who have never been there?
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Bodhisattva Pledge (Do Buddhas Weep)
i weep when you weep,
i am hungry when you are hungry.
i hurt when you hurt.
i bleed when you bleed.
i need when you need.
i thirst when you thirst.
i am alone when you are alone.
i am angry when you are angry.
i am broken when you are broken.
i am tired when you are tired.
and i will always be there,
feeling what you feel,
living what you live,
until suffering is removed...
do buddhas weep?
look in the mirror,
and name your tears!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Do The Right Thing!
just one time...
do the right thing!
go the extra mile...
give more than you
can afford to lose.
risk it all to care...
stop what you're doing,
listen with an open heart.
stand up for someone
who's being abused
for just being different.
and as you're getting off
the ground from your latest fall...
help someone else who has fallen...
he's just like you!
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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God Died
God died last night
and no one noticed...
they'll find the body
in a week or two.
funeral arrangements
in the back of the paper...
no viewing... cremation
is all that could be afforded....
and the world rushes on
in an angry ball of fury;
while children die,
unnoticed and unnamed.
and the homeless and the hungry
are stacked in the ditches...
unholy sacrifices to
His memory....
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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March Barefoot...
gonna march barefoot on Washington,
with what i got left on my back.
gonna stand on the steps,
take off my hat,
and tell then that common folks
are still about!
gonna sing them a song about working,
something they dont know much about!
show them a picture of my house and family,
a picture's all that's left.
gonna hand them a dollar bill,
make them read,
'in God we trust'...
ask them what this god looks like!
gonna, gonna, gonna!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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