Black Cloud
dont pray for me
like i'm a photograph
in black and white
turned yellow by time...
like i'm a field already worked,
my crops already picked...
now baked by the sun,
rows lost in dry dust.
like i'm the bones of death,
left in the path of famine...
the muffled cries of the dying
heard no more!
look up! i am the black cloud
on your horizon... heavy with
thunder and rain....
i am the coming winter...
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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For Christmas....
for Christmas i want...
every child to be fed.
every family to have some
kind of roof over their heads.
everyone that wants to work
to have a chance to....
for everyone to respect
both themselves and each other.
for every gun to be silent,
for every anger to stop and listen.
for the lonely to know they're loved.
for every color of skin to be equal.
for freedom to take on bodies,
and bridges to be crossed.
for god to be more than religion,
and for forgiveness to be the way.
for the day to be as holy,
as each and every tiny moment!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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I Love....
i love...
that's the reason i walk,
the reason i breathe.
the reason i grieve.
the reason i dance.
the reason i smile.
the reason i listen.
the reason i offer a hand.
the reason i see beauty.
the reason i see both darkness,
and light....
the reason i take chances.
the reason i keep going.
the reason i get angry.
the reason i forgive.
the reason i touch.
the reason i question.
the reason i believe.
the reason i am tolerant.
the reason i understand.
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Impotent Men!
impotent men...
their hands on the reins,
choking on the flesh
of the poor and subjugated.
while birds of prey circle,
bodies strewn on the streets;
another martini, stocks rise and fall!
the pipeline pulses, liquid death,
the eyes of the children
gone to marbles in the dust.
the prophets of profit
tilt their hats and turn away,
leaving the stench of their greed
on unmarked shallow graves.
their god is dead, the world keeps turning,
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Flesh Becomes Flesh!
where lovers meet,
and lay down their swords.
where song is born,
before thoughts or constraints.
where touch is formed,
in the bed of want.
where hearts are loosed,
and fire begins.
where two roads merge,
two rivers become one.
where the sparrow's wings
gain the eagle's heights.
where black and white
are filled with color.
where the mountaintop
embraces the sky.
where every dream
is laid at the door.
where time itself
looses its grip....
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Footprints (Small Minded Men)
we walk barefoot down nuclear beaches,
driven, without direction, to leave footprints.
coughing up spit, and avoiding shadows,
of small minded men following
the legend of the phallus,
to early, and inconvenient deaths.
gulls swing over in drunken glaze,
we bend to pick up a broken shell.
naming it ocean, we place it to our ears...
as the incoming tide swirls at our feet.
shark fins, and the bodies of dead fish,
the stink of salt, and the rhythm...
lost inside the sound and the roar,
we never notice our footprints washed away....
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Love Screams
love screams!
our eyes meet,
are lost in the code
of warriors tired
deep into the fray....
you dont have to talk....
i hear the whisper
of your neck,
the humming of your hands,
feel the warmness
of your spirit passing...
we have loved and lost
each other a thousand times!
i know things about you
that you dont know...
and you about me!
the pagan fires bum,
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Pounding
pounding, pounding nails,
pounding heartbeats, pounding feet.
pounding voices, pounding anger,
pounding need, pounding greed.
hungry, hungry eyes,
hungry souls, hungry holes.
hungry children, hungry countries,
hungry hands, hungry man.
throbbing, throbbing blood,
throbbing dreams, throbbing schemes.
throbbing ideas, throbbing hatred,
throbbing inside, throbbing cant hide.
touching, touching hearts,
touching true, touching you.
touching forbidden, touching daring,
touching color, touching wonder.
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Why Write? (The Message)
it's all about the message!
one form, another form,
non forms... doesnt matter.
and i dont have your answers,
most times.......
i dont even know the questions!
i just want you to listen....
not to me, or anyone else
in particular....
to listen to the honest
and raw beating of
your own heart!
if i have to stand on my head,
or rhyme the gates of hell....
or walk before you naked....
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Did You Live? Did You Dare?
when the stage goes dark,
and the crowd goes silent...
whose voice whispers in the quiet?
whose hand upon your shoulder?
when the show is over,
and they roll the credits...
will your name be called?
what will they say you have done?
did you feed someone hungry,
throw a blanket over the cold?
did you wipe away a tear?
did you hold the hand of a frightened child?
did you stand against the wars?
did you grow your own food?
did you listen, did you care?
did you risk it all for a moment of love?
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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