That Old Man...
that old man...
wakes up every morning,
greets death with a scowl.
shuffles barefoot to the bathroom,
pees in defiance of the day.
writes a letter to the President,
or one to the editor.
drinks a pot of black coffee,
puts on his hat and his coat.
tipping his hat to god,
takes his dog for a walk.
speaks little, never asks,
for nothing from no one.
sweeps the floor, washes his dishes,
then sits in his chair.
sometimes eats, often not,
and tries not to remember.
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Against Amendment One!
equality...
should never be defined
by personal moral values.
equal means equal.
each person's values are different.
we are not qualified to judge!
every person...
has the right to love,
and to be loved.
has the right to happiness.
we cannot define love by fear,
cannot define justice by ignorance.
if we were all meant to be just alike,
we would be clones.
we are not!
the beauty of life
is in our diversity.
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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The Scent Of Freedom....
i caught the scent of freedom,
in a simple gust of wind.
could taste both feathers and wings,
in the glint of the faraway sky.
could feel the bridge beneath my feet,
swaying with every step.
and i pledged my heart and mind
to walk and talk as one...
and facing my fears,
determined refused to stop.
for in each life there lies a reason,
in each night a lantern shines.
and oh nothing be so sweet,
as to be the hand that holds the light!
then to turn and find you're not alone,
with shouts and hands raised high.
both brothers and sisters join in,
and pledge the heart that wont be caged!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Warm Body
the jaded sky
burnt purple to raging red
painted by an orphan brush....
heroin ghost nightmares
lost in the void
between time and flesh...
cold steel revolver
beneath the pillow-
the line between fear
and 'i dont give a damn'!
and the eyes of the children
stare like poison ink
on the pages of what's left...
cold iron bars
blurr the vagabond night
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Silence Too Sick For Stillness
small tiny hands limp,
the molded crust of your bread
falls to the floor....
never reaching the lips
the buddha-man on fire
never cried out....
they beat out the flames
with rifle butts....
pills ground and snorted,
the furnace goes out,
lights flicker and fade,
life seeps down the drain.
the young girl pounded
like a piece of leather,
cries without tears,
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Stop The Killing!
he killed Trayvon
with a bullet to the chest.
stone cold murder!
much as we've killed...
Vietnamese children,
South American children,
the children of Iraq,
and Afghanistan...
Japanese children,
Native American children,
and probably next
the children of Iran!
as Dylan mocks:
'with god on our side'...
whose god?
what type of morality
justifies killing children?
we might just as well
be killing our own children!
and in a sense we are!
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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This Body (Always Will Be)
this body,
merely the cleft of the rock,
where the wind stops to sleep
on the long journey back to god.
returning,
what we do at our best,
in spite of and because of...
the footfalls of angels,
the beat of our hearts.
the grinding of our souls,
the stranger builds a fire.
and starts a soup,
with the wings of bats and owls,
whistling up clouds that bathe in moonlight.
the dew soft falls as childrens' prayers,
on the webbed ears of god,
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Anymore # 3
and if we choose nothing,
then where lies the choice?
the body has to be willing,
for truth to have a voice....
there's sharks in the water covered with oil.
the melting pot simmers, comes to a boil.
it's struggle and try, hard work and toil,
the talons bared, and the snake is coiled....
as slavery takes hold on American soil.
equality the plan, the plot is foiled!
and as the wind blows hard on freedom's shores,
we stare in the mirror, and unlock the door....
our sons their victims, our daughters their whores,
we're not gonna take it anymore!
........just not gonna take it anymore!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Anymore!
now where will we go
and what will we do
the price is too heavy
and the payment's come due
we stand and face our own raging egos,
the mistakes of the past taunt us from the shadows,
if we cant redeem today they'll be no tomorrow,
we were born to run never born to follow,
we look in our hearts and find that we're hollow,
confessing our sins and drowning in sorrow.....
and as the wind blows hard on freedom's shores,
we stare in the mirror and unlock the door....
our sons their victims, our daughters their whores,
we're not gonna take it anymore!
.......just not gonna take it anymore!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Armageddon Diaries (Number Three)
the root of ignorance is the
inability to see yourself...
to see yourself in others!
when we cross this bridge,
and dare to look, and to
understand, the symptoms
fall away!
prejudice, hatred, greed, pride..
all fall away! what we discover
is the sacred human, the kingdom
of heaven, nirvana...as simple
as changing a baby's diaper!
we learn to love, first by
loving ourselves, and then loving
others. we learn to forgive, by
forgiving ourselves, and thus, others!
what we have perceived as difference,
is only sameness! we who have searched
for god, find him/her in the face of
a neighbor...
poem by Eric Cockrell
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