Shadows Pale!

teardropp tattoos by the eyes,
the whisper of souls sacrificed.
step by step, brick by brick,
the final clock, tick by tick.

you and i, kingdoms fall.
unspoken desires, unanswered calls.
standing hard against tyranny,
pages turned, lost history.

and the hammer strikes the bell.
fallen angels walk through hell.
already taken, not for sale...
turning blood, shadows pale!

spirit finds flesh, flesh finds fire.
eyes glazed over, drunk with desire.
gasping for breath as if prayer.
nobody knows, nobody cares.

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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Falling Down

falling down poets,
falling down rain,
falling down reactors,
falling down planes.

hollow men with masks,
hollow dreams, hollow drugs.
hollow patriots, hollow Jesus,
hollow bodies, hollow hugs.

drunk men drunk on power,
drunk preachers drunk on salvation.
drunk drivers lost in the night,
drunk politicians annebriate the nation.

lonely men carry the biggest guns,
lonely children follow behind.
lonely widows blame themselves,
lonely lovers lose their mind.

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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Set The Table!

i follow the path
of brown bare feet,
listening to the prayers
of the dust on the window.
the house empty of all that breathes,
and ghosts just dont eat much.
while missiles born of hate,
throb, seeking direction.
and religious poverty moans
in the gutters of man's denial.
hands balled in fists
cannot open doors.
and nuclear light
is just a damned lie!
rivers vomit, great trees are cut,
empty plates rattle pointing fingers.
and turtles weep in forgotten ditches
for the time before man became god.
women dressed in ashes in slow procession
mourn the loss of womb and nipple.

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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Spirit Revealed!

beneath every pebble on the path...
inside of each blade of grass.
contained in every raindrop,
set free in moonlight searching darkness.
in every tick of every moment,
in the hand that has a face
that has a name.
in the whisper of silence
that words cannot express,
in the hollow of the shell
that rhymes with echo....

every brown skinned face,
every white and black.
every song of the soul,
of backs bent with work.
every dream often unspoken,
every candle that churches cannot light.
every lover, every moan,
every bite and every thrust.

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poem by Eric Cockrell
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America, the Truth

George Washington
did not part the Red Sea,
and lead us into the

Promised Land...
God, not even a white God,
did not tell us to...

slaughter the Native Americans,
and take their lands by force!

we are not the 'chosen people'!

we're just people, people
like all other people
around the world!

first, and foremost,
we are citizens of the world.
any blessing we have received

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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Christmas Eve

dawn creeping
o'er the mountains,
and through bare limbed trees....

Christmas Eve...
amid the hustle and bustle,
colored lights and wrapping paper....

families and friends....
the streets still alive with those
who have nowhere else to be....

empty houses, empty trailers,
stray dogs and abandoned cars....
somewhere church bells are ringing.

a baby born in a bare apartment,
the rats scurry to meet him,
the pot on the stove empty.

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poem by Eric Cockrell
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How Far

there is a farther hill
a higher mountain, a brighter star
there's a light beyond this darkness
another step, dont know how far

there are wings and poet's dreams
that free and feed the hungry soul
a cross, a tree, a hidden path
that i can feel but cannot hold

there is a justice, a dignity
a place where walls crumble and fall
there's the truth beyond all fears
that comes to one, and comes to all

there is a knowing i cant define
that words cannot contain
a stillness that heals and fills
in the wind and in the rain

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poem by Eric Cockrell
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The We In I, The I In We!

thermal meltdown, final countdown,
democracy defines itself!
our own soldiers, we grow bolder,
chased by the ghosts of hell!

1st amendment,6th commandment,
freedom exacts a price.
national boundaries, personal boundaries,
mice become men, men become mice! .....

all men equal, all men free..
all men want their dignity.
freedom of choice, freedom to be....
the we in i, the i in we!

faceless jobless, hopeless homeless,
living hard on the streets.
selling pills, shotgun thrills,
gotta be quick on your feet.

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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Vacancy, For Rent

walking the streets
of a small southern town...
empty buildings, empty houses,
'vacancy, for rent'

no one moving much,
even the church parking lots
are empty.... seems like
Jesus and His disciples

packed up, and moved on...
probably looking for work!
only a sense of quiet despair,
the sound of old cars rusting,

and the howling of a dog.
just read the news:
an elderly couple, married
67 years, murder suicide...

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poem by Eric Cockrell
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I Am..... (Beat Of The Drum)

i am....
the beat of the drum
in the electric hot night.
i am the horn of the bull,
on the streets of Madrid.
i am the bofy naked,
glistening with sweat.
i am tongue and phallus,
teeth and desire's pant!
i am the river surging
through mountains and valleys.
i am the house on fire,
the wail of sirens.
i am the caw of the crow,
the screech of the owl.
i am the cross ablaze,
the lone soldier defiant.
the man at the crossroads,
who wont sell his soul.
i am hate broken,

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poem by Eric Cockrell
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