If I Cannot Be...
if i cannot be
the stars in your blackest sky;
let me be the darkness itself,
as cupped hands,
holding the broth of light
for you to lap!
if i cannot be
the fire that warms;
let me be the howling cold,
and walk away.
if i cannot be
the flesh that enters your flesh;
let me be the absence,
and the hollow,
that only longing can fill.
if i cannot be
the dreams that lullaby;
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Mr. Nobody
there's a dead man
in a box down at the
funeral home... nobody
came to see...
but hell, nobody came
when he was alive....
nobody called, nobody wrote...
and Mr. Nobody went about
his days, doing what you do
to get by... cooking small meals,
and drinking black coffee....
watering his plants, walking
his dog, sitting in his chair....
staring at old photographs
of children grown and moved....
and of the woman he loved
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Every Man (And Woman)
if every man in America
could reach his own member
with his own mouth,
we wouldnt have a problem
with gay rights!
if every man and woman
in America knew they were
as responsible for their thoughts
as for their actions...
we'd all be on death row!
if every man and woman
in America spent as much time
trying to help their neighbors
as they spend trying to get ahead...
we'd all be taken care of!
if every man and woman
in America were color blind,
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Hallelujah! I Am Yours!
i searched till i found beauty,
in the simplest things....
in the hand of a friend,
a leaf blown by the wind,
in a blind dog's eyes,
in the cat curled close.
in the baby just born,
the old man's dying smile...
in difference, and in sameness.
in the lover's body,
in hands calloused and hard,
in moonlit nights,
and quiet conversations.
in long silent walks,
the meal simply prepared,
in the mother and the child.
in the twinkle in the homeless man's eyes,
as we shared a cup of coffee.
in thunderstorms, mountains,
and gliding hawks,
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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The Naked Man!
only the naked man,
who's left all baggage behind,
can stand in the heat of the fire,
and slay the corporate beast!
only the naked man,
who wears his scars with pride,
can forgive the unforgivable,
and so heal this land.
only the naked man,
without pretense or game,
can stand up to the truth,
and set the captives free!
only the naked man,
with nothing left to lose,
can find the light
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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This Unholy Road...
this unholy road....
we walk, strangers,
even to ourselves...
battling demons,
most of our own conceptions,
grasping, groping, hungrily
taking what we can,
more than we need,
or could ever want.
falling down, pushing aside,
we stagger, drool on our chins....
say a quick prayer,
hope for the best....
close our eyes to those around us.
raising the banner of self,
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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To Live, By God!
to be swept away by the storm,
every room in the house akilter.
hair thrown across your face,
lips swollen with longing.
to pluck stars from the night sky,
and drink the dew like wild beasts.
to howl and moo, to hoot and caw,
to be the ant that led the others astray!
to build small fires by forbidden roads,
to sleep inside the cave.
to drink moonlight, and spit revolution,
to walk naked in the cool evening.
to live, by God....
to shout and curse and sweat.
to break windows and kick down doors...
to speak of things long hidden...
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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A Land Gone Black
the sound of gunfire
rapes the virgin night...
another innocent goes down....
the soldiers of petroleum
buy a whore, a dime, a quarter.
dine on the flesh of children;
pray to the neon god.
waving the flags of mouths
that only speak with teeth.
nothing holy that cant be bought....
step on bodies without faces,
piss on the graves of babies....
winner take all, all is nothing!
and the wind of the beast
knocks at the blackened windows....
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Black Sheep # 2
near the end of our journey,
feels like we've just begun.
truth be known we've failed,
more often than we won.
your heart and my heart,
grown together hid inside each other.
to be a real man and a woman,
gotta be friends first to be lovers.
you walk away and shut the door,
but i catch you when you fall.
then you come running when
you know my backs against the wall.
right and wrong, we've done both,
and we've lived out every breath.
just shadows of each other,
we fly past the kingdom of death...
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Give God A Ride!
we have spent centuries
running from gods,
and making sacrifices
to our own fears!
afraid of death,
and so afraid to live,
we race maddened to the flame.
trying to conceive
an ideal, afraid
to see, to touch,
the reality before us!
god looks alot like
the people we're bombing,
smells like the homeless man
in the alley,
weeps with the hungry
into an empty bowl!
you want to touch the sacred?
touch the stranger,
the orphaned child,
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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