We Have Lived
you are at autumn,
i at winter...
do we look for turning leaves,
or the first hint of snow?
we are the fire,
burning in the forgotten night...
do we invite the darkness,
or pray silently for spring?
step after step,
bare feet in the dirt.
the only words spoken,
are the language of hearts!
do we win or lose?
i just dont know.
but we have lived....
we have lived.
poem by Eric Cockrell

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Freedom Speaks!
freedom speaks
without
...your
.....permission,
without
...the
.....need
....... for
........your
..........affirmation,
in spite of
...hollow
.....threats,
in defiance of
.....censorship
.........and prejudicial
............restraints!
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poem by Eric Cockrell

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Run Your Tongue
run your tongue
in the crevice
where my heart
used to be....
does it taste like you?
smell faintly of your perfume?
does it remind you
of someone you used to know?
we are what we bleed
in the end.... my face is ashen,
my thoughts burn like acid!
i left my soul inside you,
dried fluids clinging to your lips....
the arch of your back,
my destiny, and redemption!
poem by Eric Cockrell

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We who Would
we who would,
and almost can;
standing in the face
of if and should.
we who can,
and almost would;
never quite reaching
the farthest shore.
we who dare,
beyond our fears;
close our eyes and
jump into eternity.
we who pray
to an unknown God;
making a conscious choice
to be more than we are.
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poem by Eric Cockrell

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Being Honest With Myself
being honest with myself
i realize that i am
the cause of my own problems.
that by my choices i am
where i am today.
and that the man
in the mirror
is both my
best friend and
my worst enemy.
blaming no one else.
blaming no other causes.
i take responsibility
for who i am,
for where i am,
and for where i am going!
if there's gonna be any changes,
i have to make them!
poem by Eric Cockrell

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Found You!
i searched for holiness...
and found you,
vulnerable, wrapped
in anger and hurt,
raw and sensitive to the touch....
i found you,
a small human dawning
on the first day of creation...
a crucifix, and a stone,
waiting to be rolled away!
i found you,
and stood in naked awe,
looking for the words,
the bridge, and the plow.
i searched for holiness...
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poem by Eric Cockrell

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Snail Crossing... (Part Five)
i could very easily walk away... if i could find a cabin in the hills. grow my own food, and live simply.... read poetry to the trees, and the creeks.... there is nothing, and no one, that i wish to own.... i have no desire to be known, or well thought of.... and yet, i must continue... i must breathe!
the more honest i become with myself...
the more i love other people!
poem by Eric Cockrell

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The History Book
cities built
on dried bones scattered,
faceless dedications
on lie frosted grounds.
mechanical profit,
metal on metal wailing...
smokestacks belch,
and churches shudder
freedom sleeps,
where lost spirits walk.
stained glass windows,
hide the glare of truth.
soldiers march through
the bleached pages of
the history book!
the dried bones scattered,
murmur in the night!
poem by Eric Cockrell

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What's Your Name?
while walking...
i stopped beneath a tree,
and spoke to a leaf:
'what's your name? '
the leaf paused for a moment,
and spoke,
'you can call me child of the limb,
or child of the tree,
or child of the earth,
or child of the sun and rain...
or you can just call me, Bob!
what's your name? '
i thought for a moment,
and smiled:
'you can just call me...
.....leaf! '
poem by Eric Cockrell

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Early Spring!
early spring?
windblown sunlight,
patches of shadow.
the threat of thunder,
storms drip from the cup.
bare branches budding,
sap on the rise.
this old body rises
from its wintry grave!
the fire that smoldered
laps out in flame.
the need to touch,
to create, and to die.
early spring?
a tornado, or just echoes.
the ghost of winter still lurks,
and tugs at the door!
poem by Eric Cockrell

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