A God That Has No Heart
we have made
blood sacrifices to oil,
till we are covered
by the filth and the sludge
of our own greed.
leaving our children,
and their children,
suffocating at the altar
of a god that has no heart.
we have eaten their flesh,
and drank their blood!
we, the guilty,
cannot remain blind!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fear
what am i most afraid of?
losing my health?
losing my job?
losing my family?
losing my virility?
losing my self-image?
losing my dignity?
losing my sanity?
losing my life?
or ending up alone
in the darkness
without reason or form
or direction.
what am i most afraid of?
and why?
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Is There (Anything More)
she said:
'is there anything more
than the diaper i just changed,
the baby i'm nursing at my breast...
my mother's old chair
in which we rock,
and the tear i shed for him,
the longing, and the hope,
while he's out looking for work...'
and opening the door,
she threw the preacher out!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Rogue Stars
we pass too often unaware,
rogue stars hurtling
through the vast blackness
of inner space...
a bump, a bruise,
a scratch, a scar...
and almost the smell
of a closeness.
we bring the cup to our lips,
too hot to taste...
it is only in the silence after,
that memory reaches out to touch!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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To Know God
all living things
are God expressing
Himself/Herself through
infinite forms.
how dare we differentiate
between the sacred and the mundane!
if you want to see God,
look around you!
if you want to feel God,
touch the earth...
touch the hand of a stranger.
if you want to know God,
live!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Except...
a hard ass old man,
bent over with time and work,
stopped to pet a stray cat.
without a word,
or a second thought,
just stopped for a moment.
no one knew him,
no one understood him,
what he'd done or been through...
except, maybe, the cat!
stray cats, in a world
gone hard and cold!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If All Of This (And More)
if the earth stopped turning,
and the wind was finally still.
the skies held no rain clouds,
the mountains crumbled, and fell.
all the rivers ran dry,
and the moon fell from the sky.
the wolf walked away hungry,
and the dawn didnt come...
if all of this, and more,
i'd still love you!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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The Old Man's Hands
the old man's hands
know the feel of the petal,
his bruised lips the taste.
his soul rising with bloom,
and laying down with finality.
his heart the earth,
that opens and devours...
his spirit the waiting,
that becomes creation...
the old man left staring,
through a window with no name!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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What Do You Think We'd Hear?
what if...
for just one day
we laid down our national boundaries,
our racial, religious, and political differences...
and just for that one day,
each of us had to wear a sign that said:
'please forgive me, i've already forgiven you! '
and we just listened...
what do you think we'd hear?
poem by Eric Cockrell
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When Living Was Real!
old men,
gnarled hands,
missing fingers,
backs bent with time....
standing in front of
an abandoned service station,
down by the tracks
where the train dont run....
talking about the years,
talking about the work....
or not talking at all.
postcards from a time
when living was real!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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