Dance Naked #3
hold Thor's hammer in your hand,
learn from the annunaki...
sit at the feet of Plato,
wander the worlds with the Hopi...
draw swords with the samurai,
search for the codes of da vinci...
watch the times and the seasons,
and be hungry for change!
hold the beating heart in your hands
till all names are forgotten...
till all colors are one color,
and the language is blood.
sit beneath the tree with Buddha,
and understand time, past and future.
walk the water with Jesus,
do the Ghost Dance again!
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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That First Taste Of Wildness
oh, that first taste of wildness,
danger electric, intoxicating,
walking on the edge,
flapping your arms
...as if you could fly!
the first kiss, the first warm bodied
lover naked in your arms,
the first taste of flesh....
the first whisper of secrets exchanged,
the first tear of parting.
the first battle fought, the first time
knocked down, struggling to your feet,
the first taste of blood,
the first questions why,
the first resolve to endure!
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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A Buddhist Christmas
sitting on the bed
with my old blind dog...
breathing in, breathing out...
breathing in suffering,
all the suffering of the hungry,
the homeless, those in prison....
those ravaged by war....
of the lonely, those filled with despair,
the angry, the fearful, the lost....
breathing in deeply,
wrapping it all in snowlike stillness...
and then breathing out....
breathing out compassion,
total, unconditional, free compassion...
the oneness that feels every feeling,
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Intended To Be!
will we answer the call
to finally be fully human?
to lay aside our religious
and political differences?
to treat each other with
conscious and willing respect....
to finally see and understand
the beauty of diversity?
to become aware of the dependence
that we have on each other?
to understand that God, under any name,
works through the minds and bodies of humans....
to wake up and see that our Mother Earth
is dying, by our own hands!
to finally realize that life is not ownership,
but a gift we have to give to receive....
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Spontaneous Electricity (The Wetness)
walking through the wetness,
rain falling softly.
the rhythm of the wipers,
the trees bow to the wind.
you and i, the sweat and the tears,
one hollow, the other echoes,
one fire, the other darkness kneeling,
identities merged, then torn apart...
ghostlike faces at the window,
children turn, and walk away.
the long silence deepens,
death waits just beyond and before.
mountains carved in forever skies,
crumble, ground to dust by time.
and no less we, dust to dust,
the great sweeper sweeps away our memory.
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Thinking Man's Blues
i was thinking about Jesus
i was thinking about robbing a bank
thinking about the band a playin'
while the Titanic sank
thinking 'bout salvation
thinking about getting free
thinking and a wondering
do you ever think about me?
i was thinking about generations
i was thinking about saving grace
i was thinking about truth and lies
thinking about flesh and lace
thinking about redemption
and rivers running to the sea
thinking and a wondering
do you ever think about me?
i was thinking about the Dharma
'bout Martin Luther King
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Ah!
i am not your poet,
not even your rising poem.
i am but the simple sound, 'ah',
that comes between
your irregular heartbeats!
i am the sperm
that fell to the floor,
the dust wiped from the cover
of an unread book.
i am the rust on the plow,
the burp of the earth.
i am the nest made of straw.
i am the old clothes,
washed in the creek.
i am the pot simmering.
i am the child
forgotten by god,
i am the body
left for the crows.
i am the silence that overwhelms,
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Do You Even (Know My Name)
for your strong scent of love,
and the dew of your wetness...
your lips that color the night sky
in deep layers of black...
your animal spirit running
through fields in the moonlight...
the taste of your flesh,
your blood on my chin...
the howl and the hoot,
and then the great stillness...
the earth shakes and tremors,
great waves rise from the sea...
and the wind itself lonesome,
fumbles with the latch to your door..
the snow fast approaching,
the last fire fed by you!
can you hear me calling?
the whisper, the moan?
or am i only an old train,
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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My God Walks
my god walks naked in the stillness...
her long hair falling in the moonlight.
her bare feet touching the earth,
her lips wet with the dew.
her breasts heave with the coming
and going of the waves...
her eyes shine like lanterns,
her breath bathes the trees...
and in her softness small animals take refuge...
in her growl change is born...
in her desire time is renewed.
and she sings the hymn of dialogue,
and touching, always touching....
she bends down to me and whispers
her hidden name...
while spiders and turtles begin
the work of redemption...
wolves howl, and mountains breathe...
my god takes the hand of the hungry child,
and walks past the point of distance!
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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A Gift
i go back and look at my life...
and the things i'm not happy
with were caused by my own
decisions, my own mistakes.
i have been blessed to see
and to feel and to touch deeply...
i have immersed myself in both
life and love... and i am thankful
for that.
what i've learned is that life is
precious... every moment, every
word, every action. i, like many
of you i'm sure, have wasted
too much time, have overlooked
or rushed by too many things.
it's too easy not to see the worth
of a grain of sand, a rainstorm, a
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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