In Decline!
to not believe
that America is in decline
is a stronger opiate
than i am familiar with!
but America is not a country,
not a political process,
not Wall Street, not big oil!
America lives within
the hearts of the working people.
and we are stronger
than you think!
we have arisen from the ashes
and we demand hope!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Breaking Point!
you can only take so much
from the man who built your house,
before he'll come back
and tear it all down!
people arent cattle,
arent meant to be herded...
even a man of peace
has a breaking point!
when you finally take away hope,
then the man becomes a beast...
trapped with back to the wall,
he'll turn and fight!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Electric Pulse
i follow the trail
of your longing
from your neck down
to your inner thighs....
finding the beginning
of the cosmos... wet,
dark, hot, and hungry
for new life 'neath the
touch of the planters hands...
oceans i find, and pounding
waves... forests primeval,
and darkness creating light...
surging with electric pulse!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Respect Yourself
respect yourself!
dont sell your time
too cheaply.
dont live for possessions.
dont give yourself
to anyone you dont love.
dont try to be
like everyone else.
dont settle!
dont always follow...
ask questions!
feel free to doubt!
dont blame your life
on anyone else.
take responsibility
for yourself.
respect yourself!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Trinkets
trinkets....
throw a bone,
a pitch, words opaque...
the results of a poll,
pipe dream smoke curling,
sleight of hand....
magic balm....
keep the lid shut,
cover your tracks,
always dodge issues,
manipulate the press.
rebates and stimulus,
soap box actors,
throw in a commercial,
the American way....
trinkets!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Verb Of The Spirit
peace is not
the absence of war...
it is the presence
of life in all
of it's fullness!
never won by
guns and bombs...
achieved by letting go
of fear and ignorance.
peace begins within,
and then spreads,
when actions meet
the true heart's intent.
peace is a verb
of the spirit...
the answer to
the question not asked!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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When...
when my prayers
picked up shovels,
hoes, hammer, and nails...
they began to be answered.
when my concepts of truth
put on human faces,
they became reality!
when the eyes of my heart
began to see myself
mirrored in others,
my blindness was healed!
when i finally gave away
the last thing i clung to,
i became free!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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It Is The Act!
it is not...
the house, the temple,
the city, or the country
that you built.
it is the act of building!
it is not...
the hours, the shifts,
the fields plowed,
or the steel forged.
it is the act of working.
it is not...
the sacrifices, the passion,
the forgiveness, or even
the life you shared.
it is the act of loving!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Pine Sap And Nuts
pine sap and nuts,
in unspoken corners.
tongues pierced with emotion,
and pent up clouds.
yesterlonging brushes your neck,
your long hair falling like rain...
or tears without names,
words without sound.
you taste like coffee and cigarettes,
on a dead poet Sunday.
morning falls with aching drench,
pine sap and nuts!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Tears You Dont Have Time For
the bruised face
with chaptered eyes,
you change the baby....
coffee, no breakfast.
pick up the bottles,
empty the ashtrays....
brush your hair,
try to hide
the telling color....
and off to work.
9.50 an hour,
amid the whispers....
to you, love is a battlefield,
a baby's cry, ... and tears
you dont have time for.
poem by Eric Cockrell
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