Prayer for Amy
sometimes the pain
of living is so much,
the waves of feeling
so strong, so dangerous...
the hurt so deep it
penetrates and shakes
your very being...
suffocates your thinking,
till words are too painful
to be spoken...
and the darkness is so cold
that you burn down the house
trying to get warm...
leaving only the flapping
of shadowy wings
in a ghost grey sky....
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Steps Toward Freedom
on the first step towards freedom
i found i had to name my chains...
and looking closely, found they were
all of my making... they carried
my name... they even smelled
like me...
on the second step towards freedom
i took ownership of the prison
that i'd created for myself....
on the third step, i took out my knife,
and killed the man in the mirror.
on the fourth step i let go
of everything i thought i had to have,
took a deep breath, spread my wings,
and flew naked into the night!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Believing We Can Fly...
do we stand on the floor of our thoughts?
in the basements of our heart?
or on the edge of the nest made of straw....
pounding our chests, believing we can fly?
do we stand on precept or illusion?
are mountains then made of sand?
and again chant the way of the gods,
'we feel with our thoughts,
and think with our hands'....
truth speaks in the unspoken,
and liberty is but remembering...
the best we can do a simple touch,
a farewell kiss, and....
a key to your most precious door!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Families Falling Apart, Together
families falling apart,
together...
jobs lost, houses lost...
pooling what little
they have left...
just holding on.
no insurance,
mailbox money,
food stamps, and
whatever they can scuff.
travelling in beat up old cars,
or walking... nowhere to go.
same clothes they wore yesterday,
and the day before...
the youngest daughter's pregnant,
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Silences The Candle
break the glass and come to the altar,
naked, as you are...
for this is the kingdom of the dove and the wolf,
and this bed holds the secret trove.
one cannot bind wings,
wings are bound by air!
there be no sacrifice
in dying for love....
the gift is the giver,
the giver the gift....
leaving night to define these shadows.
to love and madness,
and the glory of loss!
when mortality becomes two stars...
two stars exploding in the darkest night,
raining light that silences the candle!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Given Form
we have to quit putting it all off
on god.... like a magic button we
can push when it gets tough,
and god will take it all away....
if you must speak of god, then
let it be thus...
we are the flesh and bones of god.
we are the hands and feet of god.
we are the urn that holds the fire.
we are the dreams of god made bodies....
so we must do the work!
seeing with the eyes of god,
hearing with the ears of god,
breathing the very breath of god...
the creation is but the creator given form!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Love Is Not A Game!
this world's on fire, baby....
even the train's smoking,
coming down the line.
and the bodies of children,
and lovers lay smoldering,
atop the bodies of soldiers,
of mothers, and of poets.
if you've got a voice,
better use it.
you know we're running
out of time.
if you've got a love,
better lay it down....
it's the time of the cross,
and the circus is in town.
better shout it from the rooftops,
dont matter if you have a name.
this battle's not for cowards,
and love is not a game!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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No Longer Afraid!
the day you
wake up and realize...
you no longer have
any reason to pretend,
that you have nothing
of value left to lose,
that you cant change the past...
that the people that love you,
love you in spite of yourself.
that the people you hate
are just reflections of you.
that life cant be possessed,
and is not about possessing.
that what you leave behind
is your heart... nothing more!
that death is not the enemy,
not the end, but comes to all...
then you become...
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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We May Find Humanity!
for every bullet an open hand,
for every bomb a thousand tears.
for every hungry mouth a bowl of rice,
clean water, and an embrace.
for every country invaded by thirst
for oil.... a country invaded with
shovels, picks, axes, and books.
to rebuild, restore, reaffirm hope.....
for every shallow grave,
for every unmarked death....
we adopt and take in,
we heal with respect.....
for every inhuman act,
the acts of compassion....
and in the search for forgiveness,
we may find humanity!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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A Sparrow's Thoughts.... (Number Five)
god doesnt live in 'holy books',
in doctrines, in denominations,
in churches, in certain countries,
in the color of skin, in the form
of government....
she lives in the faces of the children
that you bombed, in the frail bodies
of the families you left to starve,
in the raging silence of the young
man who hangs himself because he's
been discriminated against...
if we say it's not our concern,
that we are not personally responsible,
then we are liars!
and not worthy to speak of god!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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