Skull And Bones
Skull And Bones,
hands on the heart,
finger on the button...
chosen, and groomed,
covered by the veil,
world by design.
economics held,
population control,
Aids and starvation,
and war after war.
oil rigs, nuclear nights,
done step by step;
all part of the plan....
Skull And Bones!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Smell Of Death
do wild animals run from us
because they can smell death,
emanating from our pores?
is the rage they see in our eyes
named, spoken or unspoken,
or directed inward?
and the fear itself thunders,
as if in warning!
is that why we run from each other?
from ourselves?
what are we running to?
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Think!
think!
...validate your life!
you are the only thing
that cannot be bought and sold
....against your will!
dont settle for someone else's thoughts.
dont allow yourself to be owned!
dont allow your self to be controlled.
your mind is the door to infinity.
your heart holds the key.
think!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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That's Enough!
a small child,
sitting on the stoop,
cracking walnuts with a hammer.
i often feel this way
when i try to comprehend
god, infinity, and the meaning of life.
scientific thrusts
only leave more questions.
and philosophy turns
wine into water!
i can still taste the walnuts,
perhaps that's enough!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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We Have To Stop!
we are citizens
of the world first,
and foremost...
one huge, sprawling,
and diverse family...
we are connected
both in body and spirit...
very much responsible
for each and all!
we have to stop killing
each other...
we have to stop
destroying our home!
we have to stop killing
each other!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Fear Has No Name!
moss, clinging to rock,
waiting for the water
to free...
only shadows stand between
this world and that,
fear has no name
other than we allow.
stripping away
the last vestige of clothing,
dance naked in the presence
of that which abides....
dance naked with gratitude
for that which endures!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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The Flesh Of Hunger
listen...
the sound you hear
is the sound of
your own heart,
crying out for the
embrace of all others...
a child, nursing
at the breast of humanity,
knowing only mother,
womb, and breast...
the smell on your breath,
the stink of human need;
the taste on your lips,
the flesh of hunger!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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The Phone (Like Him)
the sick old man
in the apartment cold and bare,
raises the gun to his head:
'God forgive me for what i do...'
a cut off notice from the electric company,
unopened on the table,
an eviction notice hanging
on the door...
his son's phone number by the phone,
but the phone, like him,
is dead!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Turning Wheel....
turning wheel....
newspaper clipping epitaphs,
dead bodies whisper
in the grasses turned brown...
water stagnant, stinking
with blackened greed....
children's hands severed,
lined up beneath the altar,
sacrificed to the gods
of an angry age...
even the trees weep,
and the mountains shudder!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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You Have To Decide....
even prophets are pilgrims,
and infidels are priests.
the murderer you sent
to be executed,
is just you in another form.
the child he killed,
is also you....
the drunken father who beat him
mercilessly as a child,
you got it, also you!
the prayer he prayed before he died,
you have to decide!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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