Big Black Crows
big black crows
keep following me
everywhere i go....
and this morning i heard
the trees whsipering,
as we rode down the road......
drifting clouds, and vacant buildings,
people walking, heads bent down.
children's faces staring out frosted windows,
old dog lying in the sun.
shadows forming faces,
then dissolving back to shadow.....
memories hang like nails on the wall,
that the Painter's brush cant quite hide.
the scent of perfume, wind devils and rust....
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Choices, Or Destiny (For Aufie Zophy)
right and wrong,
division and hatred.
moral implications,
immoral men.
ignorance and pride,
hearts restrained by fear.
the hammer of judgement,
hands buried in pockets!
do we fly?
or watch pictures of flight?
do we care?
or live by token gestures?
do we pray?
or recite mechanical cures?
do we live?
or exist behind walls?
choices, or destiny?
truth, or salvation?
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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I Want To Live!
is the bridge to the past
really the chain that holds us?
have we spent all of our lives,
running to or running from?
and what are we fighting,
if not ourselves?
sick of the sickness,
am i both disease and the cure?
when i pray,
who am i praying for,
and who am i praying to?
is this soul rebellion, revolution,
or time's evolution?
i talk to the night,
still waiting for answers.
so if i fall from the sky,
let me burn and explode!
i want to live,
to feel! to touch! to dance!
i want to live!
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Labor Day
Labor Day....
forty years of working
and cant pay the rent...
lost my benefits,
lost my house,
cant retire,
now or ever...
cotton mills, furniture factories,
truck driving, house building...
cant afford to fill up with gas.
run down trailer,
better grow your own food.
dont get sick,
cant go to the doctor.
they're bashing unions,
cutting unemployment off.
cant send your kid to school,
cant afford to be buried...
those people in Washington,
and those on the stoop,
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Therefore I Am!
i pray, therefore i am.
i work, therefore i am.
i give, therefore i am.
i get knocked down,
and get back up,
therefore i am.
i love, therefore i am.
i respect, therefore i am.
i stand up, therefore i am.
i speak my mind, therefore i am.
i believe in mankind, therefore i am.
i believe in peace, therefore i am.
not a corporation,
not one of the elite.
not a political power.
not property to be be bought and sold.
i am a human being,
therefore i am.
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Van Gogh's Ear
madness, van gogh's ear...
i keep chopping up
pieces of my soul,
spreading them thin,
to still the tiny voices
that haunt our lives.
who are you?
what do you want?
where do you want
to go with your life?
you cant sleep in the hollow
of the cliff forever...
choose your sword, and live!
or step off, free falling,
and try to find your wings!
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Why? Why? Why?
if you're a white man
walking through a black neighborhood,
do you feel nervous?
why?
if you're the only black family
living in a white neighborhood,
do you feel isolated?
why?
and why do we think a poor
black man came from the projects?
and a poor white man
came from the trailer park?
why?
every time you see a Hispanic
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Dance Naked
go to the burning bush,
and touch!
walk across the sea
that has been divided.
put your hand on the cave walls
and feel the etchings.
jump into the Mayan pool
of sacrifice!
sit among the unmarked graves
of soldiers killed in battles,
reading poetry to the souls
lost to the violent storm.
dive for the ruins of Atlantis,
for the memory before memory.
stand in stillness at Stonehenge,
listen for voices in the wind.
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Government's Heroin
the lies,
and propaganda,
spewed forth
by the Wall Street,
Pentagon pushing elite...
the lies,
that cover a dying earth,
and hide the faces
of starving millions,
that bury the bodies
of the victims in unmarked graves.
that strip the working class
of all dignity and rights...
the lies,
and propaganda,
nothing but the government's heroin,
doled out in measured doses,
numbing the souls of the masses...
but now the spoon is tarnished,
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Must She Be More?
god is the moment you stop to listen,
the hand you offer, the mistake you claim...
the time you spend walking beside,
the last bite, the last dollar, you share.
the day you take the time to care,
every small act of kindness.
the tears you weep with,
the lonliness you fill...
the cup of water, the gentle caress.
the hands on your neighbor's shovel,
the stand you take though ridiculed.
the honesty that wears your failures,
and embraces the failures of the stranger!
every breathing moment that you are you...
must she be more?
poem by Eric Cockrell
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