Shut Up, And Listen
i argue with myself
when i'm praying...
or maybe it's with God-
either way, i seem to be losing.
when right + right + right = wrong...
what the hell do you do?
so i just keep digging,
dirt walls falling in on me,
water up to my knees!
and i keep hearing laughter...
or maybe it's just the sound
of my heart telling my soul
to move on!
or maybe it's just the footsteps
of my memories
walking into tomorrow...
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Stirred By The Wind!
that five and dime perfume,
somewhere between...
a flower garden after the rain,
and the front seat of an old car
on a moonlit night!
making love in the dirt,
between rows of green beans,
hot July sun,
bodies glistening with sweat.
slow dancing in a laundromat,
carrying buckets of water for a bath.
crawling out your bedroom window,
just before dawn!
long greying hair glistening
in a sun shadowed room,
the silence, and the twinkle,
the ashes stirred by the wind!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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All That Lives....
all that lives yearns...
for love, for shelter,
to be fed, to be a part of.
it is only fear that isolates us!
we have made ourselves
to be islands of self.
self-fulfillment, self-worship,
self-attainment, self...
do the grains of sand on the beach
cry out to god for names?
does each wave declare itself an ocean?
do the trees suffer from no identity?
the walls we've constructed
are nothing but a lie!
that which makes us the same
allows our difference to be enough!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Of The Blood
it is of the blood,
that we carry, that we turn,
that we walk...
the blood that feels,
and touches,
the raw and the forbidden.
it is of the bood,
that we breathe, that we sweat,
that we join,
in moments of passion,
great and small,
in the simple and mundane.
it is of the blood,
that we drink, that we pray,
that we wear...
on lips parched and blistered,
smeared over the doorway...
the blood that takes back,
that seizes the moment
in the undressing of the heart!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Or, Is It?
it's easy...
to say a lot of nothing
with a lot of words!
easy to preach by day
and whore by night.
easy to have a lot of answers,
when you dont even
know the questions...
easy to say:
'i'd never do that...'
it's a lot harder
to speak the truth
in a few simple words.
harder to admit your mistakes,
and be honest about yourself.
harder to listen for the questions,
knowing that often listening
is the best answer.
harder to admit:
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Perhaps The Cat!
he rose from the coffin,
shook himself, and walked,
out the door, out of sight.
the body he left behind,
nothing but an empty shell!
the mourners wept for the body.
who sings the song of
the spirit set free?
who sees with his eyes?
who knows his heart?
perhaps the blind man
at the piano...
perhaps the cat that followed
his steps, in search of food!
perhaps the wind that
closed the door behind...
perhaps the ones who really loved,
or the child waving at the window!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Validity
i will accept the validity
of your religious view when...
you lay down your guns,
and start feeding the hungry!
i will accept the validity
of your political view when...
by your actions you show your primary
concerns to be poverty and homelessness.
i will accept the validity
of your freedom when...
it applies equally to all,
regardless of skin color.
i will accept the validity
of your humanitarian view when...
you take all men as brothers,
and walk with compassion.
poem by Eric Cockrell
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For Any Time...
for any time...
i should have stood up,
and didnt,
for any truth
i should have spoken,
but kept silent.
for anyone
i could have helped,
but turned the other way.
for any injustice
i should have fought,
but did nothing...
i ask forgiveness.
for any time...
i've stood up
and fought,
extended a hand,
given more than i could,
stood against the crowd...
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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I Heard...
i heard...
the roar of silence,
and sat motionless
till it became a whisper.
a whisper that filled
every ounce of my being
with the electric sense
of being alive!
i drank the cup of forgiveness,
and wiped the tears
of the holy from my eyes.
i saw the human heart,
and felt its beat,
in the small child
reaching up for hope.
i prayed the prayer without words,
and found the hand in mine...
and walked beside the stranger
to the home we both desired!
i heard...
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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I Still Believe
the scars on my face have names,
the ache in my soul has a face.
the hunger in my heart has a reason,
the light in my eyes is God's breath...
i still believe...
the prayer i cant pray i live,
the debt i cant pay still haunts me.
the love i leave on the doorstep
will stand the test of time.
i still believe...
the forgiveness i need i have given.
the mistakes i have made dont own me.
the anger i feel slowly transformed,
the peace i seek i will find...
i still believe...
poem by Eric Cockrell
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