Thankful
thankful....
for the breath i'm breathing,
for the sunlight pouring through
the window....
for the rain wet tossled earth.
for those who are protesting
corporate greed....
for poets everywhere,
in all walks of life,
hammers blazing, plows turning,
lovers wrapped into each other...
small children waking up loved....
for trees and mountains,
rivers and fields....
for all those working to
feed the hungry, house the homeless...
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Poverty, And Honesty!
dont talk to me about salvation,
your phallic lips pierced
with the trinkets of desire!
let's talk about equality
in a room where
light and darkness
both weigh the same,
sitting naked around a table,
bare but for time...
time purchased, and lost,
in the gamble to feed.
time, not for sale,
time taken and given!
dont talk about redemption,
with judgement clouded eyes.
let's talk about sameness,
same hearts, same souls.
poverty brings an honesty,
names each and every face!
and if we must pray,
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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The Power!
the highest form of art,
the highest form of philosophy,
the highest form of spirituality,
comes in the applied interaction
of peoples with each other...
taking the time to listen, to care,
to understand, to feel, to forgive,
to work together, and to see each
other in ourselves...
you cant write it any better, you
cant paint it any better, you cant
play it any better, you cant pray
it any better!
this is the power that created
the cosmos... and does so again
and again... the power that turns
the seasons, and brings the dawn...
this is the light that darkness
cannot swallow...
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Stand Naked Before God!
i am more...
than 40 years of working,
50 hours a week.
more than a paycheck,
a bag of groceries,
the rent and the lights.
more than the hope
of a social security check!
i am more than a father,
a grandfather, and a last name.
more than an opinion, and a cup of coffee.
my name is not nobody,
i have a face.
i am not a statistic,
nor a grave waiting to be filled.
i am a man,
i have desires, wants, and needs.
like an oak tree i've stood,
and weathered the storms of seasons.
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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They Spoke To Me Of God....
they spoke to me of god,
and small things burning on piles of leaves.
while cast aside nests lay weeping,
in silent tribute to forgotten paths.
empty cages with doors flung open,
cigarette butts on temple floors.
footprints from nowhere to nothing,
canned thoughts on dusty shelves.
it's easy to say peace will come,
not so easy to take the arms.
while crippled poets walk past burning huts,
and aircraft carriers meditate on troubled waters.
children's faces drift through dreamless sleep,
bodies gathered by passing squirrels.
yes, they spoke to me of god...
as if they really knew!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Tis Sweet Sadness
sweet sadness rings the bells of joy,
the plumber and the carpenter bring gifts of hands.
the homeless man brings a star and a feeling,
that no one else could have.
the prisoner brings the wings of the wasp,
the blind man the eyes of darkness.
the cripple dances, the unforgiven bears forgiveness.
and the hungry child shares a morsel of bread.
the weary ones bring the promise of dawn.
the tiny ones...carry the universe.
the dying man brings the value of life,
the addict the hope of a freedom.
and the condemned man brings the hope of justice...
tis sweet sadness that rings the bells!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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To Paint The Moment!
the silent ones come walking,
wearing faces that turned with autumn...
barefoot, and drunk with grace,
their hands tremble, but their eyes are sure.
almost as if unexpected snow,
gigantic flakes clinging to the porch rail.
swallowing all trace of living,
in a vast sea of stillness that hints of hope.
the candle by the window flickers,
shadows stop to give an ear.
the strong scent of the heart lingers,
in things unspoken and undefined.
we shout from corners hidden,
while the tiny carcasses of ants simmer.
and the broom waits with hat pulled low,
for infinity to paint the moment!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Awakening Means....
awakening means....
i can hear you!
i can see you!
i can taste you!
i can feel you!
i breathe in our suffering,
i breathe out our freedom.
awakening means...
no need for a name!
no need for possessions.
no need to conquer!
no need to convert!
i breathe in our humanity,
i breathe out our equality.
awakening means....
i cannot help but care!
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Why, Why, And Why?
another tree cut down,
another tanker filled with oil.
another book gets banned,
another protest on American soil.
another politician lies,
another banker forecloses.
another family on the street,
another small business closes.
another mill shut down,
another farm goes bank.
another river polluted,
can you put that in your tank?
another child becomes an addict,
another young girl sold like meat.
another old man dies....
dancing to the beat....
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Quit Acting Like Strangers
i work at a job where i am in constant
contact with everyday common working
people.... and i've noticed over the last
several years that they come in one by one,
wanting to talk about personal problems...
why?
because no one listens anymore!
people are dying for the need of a listener,
for ears that dont judge,
that accept them for being human,
that wont tell them what to do,
that wont make them feel guilty...
just for someone to care enough to
take the time to listen...
not a whole lot to ask...
sounds like being part of a family....
maybe it's time we quit acting like strangers!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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