Door Mat
dormant
doesnt mean
door mat!
old men need
a little loving
too!
fan the embers, baby...
this old fire's
not gone out!
and the long dark
night is coming.
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bullets # 3
how can we profess to follow any sacred
tradition, and desecrate the earth?
it's like peeing in your bed!
even my dogs when they were puppies,
knew better!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Communication (Creation)
communication demands honesty,
honesty demands nakedness,
nakedness demands knowing who you are!
the act of creation merely
god communicating with herself!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Old Man, Empty House
old man, empty house...
it struck me when he
left the hospital
that he didnt want
to go home to
an empty house
full of ghosts and
memories...
to die alone!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Home
you miss me when
i dont call...
i may be an old man.
but...
i am your home;
as you are mine.
that door inside
the heart to the
room where it's ok
to be you!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Insatiable Greed
mouths open,
...like tiny birds...
swallow every morsel
...without thought;
only to roll out
..of the nest and fall
prey to their own
....insatiable greed!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Barrel of Oil
falling stars
from a tattered flag...
young men killed,
their lives sold
to an unjust cause...
you've wondered
where hope went...
the price of a
barrel of oil!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Slaves Demand Freedom!
poverty and ignorance,
the two greatest weapons
of those that would enslave.
but when the poor
educate themselves,
and become aware,
the slaves demand freedom!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Best Gospel
if you want
to be liberated,
get down in the ditch
and start digging
with your neighbor!
sometimes a shovel,
and a willing set of hands,
are the best gospel!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Break The Glass!
fire comes from the crotch of darkness...
darkness comes from the tongue of god.
what we see, smell, and taste...
are but curtains on the window!
break the glass!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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