I Am Embarrassed!
i am embarrassed
by the insatiable greed
that has driven my generation
to own that which should never
be owned by anyone...
by the self-centered hunger
that has driven us to consume,
without thought of ever putting back.
by the blindness and fear
of our prejudicial morality...
by the excuses we've left
on our children's plate!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Just Around The Curve
another oil spill
hidden in small print
in the daily news....
somewhere behind
the Wall Street report,
the political hoopla...
and an ad for viagra.
maybe prostate cancer,
or the big truck hurtling
over the line just around
the curve....
smokestacks puffing,
cars backed up for miles...
cell phones ablaze...
[...] Read more
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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More On Trayvon Martin
i am appalled
at the lack of justice
in the Trayvon Martin case!
cold blooded, racially motivated,
murder...
and not even an arrest.
where and when
did self defense
constitute shooting,
and killing,
a seventeen year old kid
eating a bag of skittles.
if we cant get some action
on this case...
then we dont have a justice system!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cup Of Water
if i never write another word,
let my life be remembered simply...
as a stepping stone for others,
as the hand that unlocked the cage,
as the fire that warmed the stranger,
as the food that fed the hungry.
as the candle that lit the darkness,
as shelter, as the wind that
cried freedom in the darkest night...
as a cup of water!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Does My Vote Still Count?
i am not a corporation, i do pay taxes!
i dont take from the poor to fill my plate.
profit is not my first and only thought...
when i look at other people, i see human
beings, not numbers!
i dont believe that i am above the law.
i dont own much of anything, and i do feel
compassion....
this being said... does my vote still count?
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Have We Become...
do we fill the empty plate
with spent shells?
the empty cup with spilled blood?
do we sing of freedom
at the funerals of the children?
scratch 'equality' on their headstones?
do we sacrifice murder on the altar,
while praying to gods made of stone....
do we write infinity with an oily brush?
just what the hell have we become?
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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All Headed Home!
sundown,
color drenched mountains,
new budding trees
reach out to touch.
just a hint of coolness,
the distant smell of woodsmoke.
people pass in a hurry,
all headed home.
and so we are,
at sundown and waiting.
remembered in color,
forgotten by touch.
hurrying after
a scent in the distance,
all headed home...
all headed home!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Gnawing (Freedom)
freedom
gnawing
at my
gut...
a rat
gnawing
on
the
ropes...
th at
my fears
use
to
bind
me...
freedo m, the oldest
primeval urge,
[...] Read more
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Identity....
our greatest confusion lies in identity...
we are not what we own, not what
we've accomplished, not even what
we've dreamed...
we are what we've lived in each other!
the moment shared, the small kindness,
the brush of affection, the hours worked for,
the hand extended, the tears and the laughter...
nothing more, and nothing less!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Late At Night
what do you think about,
late at night...
when you're alone with yourself,
and the weight of your actions?
the older you get,
the harder it gets.
you see the mistakes,
wish you'd spent more time
in the moments of love...
honesty comes knocking
as your time runs short...
maybe, most of all,
you wish you'd said, 'thank you! '
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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