We Battle...
we battle against ourselves!
we starve our souls with
the 'need' to possess.
we strip our senses
with fake morality.
we quench our fires
with our limited concepts.
we wound our very love
with the image we present.
we defile our truth
with the lies we settle for...
we choose fear over freedom,
and so break our own wings!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Christmas, All Over The World!
i watched them loading
their car with what was left...
dirty faced kids in the back....
you could tell they'd been crying.
'you got gas money, bud?
have them kids eaten? '....
'we're fine... thanks for the help...'
and they drove off on
fifteen dollar tires...
to find a new life!
and it's Christmas
all over the world!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Free
we are marching,
side by side,
heads down,
in oppressive silence.
trapped in small places,
confined by our faces.
numbered, and lined up
to face the glare of darkness.
i am human, dammit!
i am a man,
i am alive!
my spirit cannot be contained
in cages of ownership
and servitude.
i will not be your boy!
i am free!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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One Small Voice!
just one small voice
in a sea of voices,
all different languages,
male and female...
crying out against the roar:
WE WANT TO BE FREE!
one small voice,
a face soon forgotten,
but a body and a soul...
one small voice,
but now every voice counts,
we are together the voice
of humanity and hope...
WE WANT TO BE FREE!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Pays The Cost
fifty years married...
a half century as one.
he sat by her bed,
holding her limp hand....
alzheimer's, and a bad heart,
eyes that didnt know him,
anymore!
he pulled the tubes from
her nose, from her mouth,
from her arms....
and whispered into her ear...
'go, be free...
i wont be long...'
true love pays the cost!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Closing The Blinds
little dirty faced boy
in the parking lot
in the rain...
no coat, no shoes...
hiding behind cars,
playing with his
imaginary friend...
the old woman at
the window shakes
her head...
'somebody oughta
do something
about that boy...'
closing her blinds,
she pours another
cup of coffee,
and sits down
to read her Bible.
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Our Own
i heard you crying...
i dont know your name;
but i can feel your hunger,
your pain, can smell
your fear...
just like it was my own.
there are no walls
between the living,
no self imposed barricades,
no structured classes...
there is only breath!
and blood! and need!
tongues groping for souls
that taste like our own!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Citizens Of The Wasteland
children of hate,
children of greed,
fight and struggle,
enslaved by greed.
freedom by color,
freedom by class.
equally unequal,
the future is past.
under the flag,
under the Bible.
strike out, lash out,
kill for survival.
and the children die
the day they're born.
citizens of the wasteland,
left bare by the storm!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Grieving Nails, Humanity's Coffin (For Gary Snyder)
trees cut,
to widen the road,
homeless owls and spiders,
marching heads down.
napalm rivers,
tainted with oils,
spilling from the lips
of a beaten lover!
empty chants,
smokestack curls...
the body of the wolf,
in the ditch by the road.
fucking terror, endless noise,
souls lost in shards of tires,
silent goodbyes....
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Salvation.... Comes To This
full moon dripping
down through the trees,
the last train to nowhere
rumbles down the old tracks...
your eyes, staring softly
through the half lit window,
seem to speak, but leave
empty spaces where
naked words should be....
salvation then, comes to this,
the imprints your fingers leave
on the doorknob you just locked!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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