The Grave Was Empty!
we took down the body of God,
and stripped the flesh
from the bones with razor sharp knives.
out of this flesh we made hunger.
we carefully cut the heart out,
and out of this heart we made weapons.
we plucked out the eyeballs,
and out of them we made greed.
from the bones we built houses
in which no one could live.
we scattered the remains
over the sands... and from them
we made oil, the force that drives!
there was nothing left,
not even for the crows...
and they wonder why
the grave was empty!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Diamonds
what am i running from?
do my feet betray my thoughts?
i have smelled the scent of the Beloved,
my eyes fixed upon her hem.
and day itself undresses,
without guilt or hesitation.
what has been the night has fallen,
like leaves beneath my feet.
beauty oozes and explodes,
into tiny simple things.
love drives the nail and pants the deer,
stamping by the fence rail.
i want to touch i cannot deny,
and will sacrifice all else.
to feel her skin against my soul,
leaving scars that glow like diamonds.
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Dont You Think It's Time?
children have rights,
women have rights.
lovers have rights.
people of all religions,
and even atheists have rights.
people of all colors,
speaking every language have rights.
trees and rivers have rights.
cats and dogs have rights.
cattle have rights,
homeless people have rights.
prisoners have rights.
democrats and republicans have rights,
even socialists have rights.
the jobless have rights,
old people have rights...
and the hungry have
the right to be fed!
damnit! dont you think it's time?
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Miracle, And Dust
i cannot help but believe
in the human heart
in spite of all our
mistakes, misgivings, and failures...
in spite of all the wrong actions
we've taken for all the wrong reasons...
in spite of all the times
we've let humanity down...
i know and believe
even on the darkest of nights...
there's a fire that burns pure
as the light from the stars...
that holds infinity in every spark;
that warms the feet of the eternal
in every flesh drawn moment...
[...] Read more
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Our Mouth, Or Our Heart!
what if our thoughts
were hammers, and
our words were nails...
would we be more careful
of the world we build?
and what if every action
were the action that
our entire lives were
judged on...
would we be more careful?
and what if we finally understood
that everything we think, do, or say,
feeds either our mouth or our heart...
what would we change?
and what if we really knew
that the person needing help
that we turned away...
was God in human form?
[...] Read more
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Lost In Eternity!
long shadows cast,
the corner now empty.
the bare branch scrapes
against the window
of the house left vacant.
the desk left cluttered,
as if in waiting.
the candle half burned,
naked without fire.
the woodstove cold as ice.
the gravel drive now virgin,
the mailbox rusted shut.
the yard oozes like an open wound,
in the womb of stillness.
nothing moves, nothing at all!
another world?
maybe it never was!
[...] Read more
poem by Eric Cockrell
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The Code Of Rainfall
i live my life by the code of rainfall,
and sounds without faces in the night.
i believe in that which i can taste,
and listen to what i feel.
i walk in time with the wind,
without past or future destination.
i know well the language of silence,
and see with eyes accustomed to darkness.
things i know cant be defined by thought,
and my heart does not need words.
i have spent my time in waiting,
and now i face the storm.
what i stand before i've always been....
to some the grave,
to others a star!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Affinity
to say that i have a deep affinity for the Tibetan
people would be correct... but i also have a deep
affinity for all oppressed peoples.
for too long Americans have been insulated from
the hurt and suffering experienced around the world.
now it's come home to haunt us!
we can never forget: as long as anyone is hungry, we
are hungry. as long as anyone is struggling for freedom,
we are struggling for freedom. as long as anyone is
in need, we are in need. as long as anyone lives in
poverty, we are poor!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Borne By The Wind
what if i made you a pair of shoes,
from the soles of these tired feet?
and gave you a lantern,
lit by the fire in these eyes...
would you walk naked in the darkness
down the path past the creek,
to the small clearing where stillness waits?
would you sit neath the tree,
bent with time like me?
would you eat from the bowl,
made of the hollow of my heart?
would you close your eyes and listen,
with the ears of my soul?
till you hear the name that god whispers,
borne by the wind of this love....
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Cocoon (Illusions)
illusions...
sand blown by the wind....
the reflection of fire
on the coldest of nights;
the cry of the empty rice bowl.
the violin played in an empty room.
sunlight glaring off fresh fallen snow.
the axe and the boots
standing alone in a corner...
the ticket takers through a glass window....
oil pumping into the mouths
of starving children....
the exploding bombs, bayonets
draped in bright colored flags.
the moment you give,
[...] Read more
poem by Eric Cockrell
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