The Button We Fear
the nuclear threat,
most often unspoken,
looming in the shadows,
the smell and the stink.
the aggressive thrust
of men long impotent,
of men whose gods
cant be touched or seen.
the hand that snatches the bowl
from the starving child,
that signs the foreclosure notice
on a family of five...
flexes and balls up,
one finger extended,
the finger that rests
on the button we fear!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Wrong Number
do you always kill
the one you love?
the one that loves you?
do you spin your web,
only to eat your mate?
is the cross you give
your only embrace?
the crown of thorns
your loving kiss?
is your secret name death,
your womb filled with darkness?
do you always burn your dreams
at the stake?
or am i just the wrong number
you happened to call,
and cant remember how
to hang up?
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Better With Age!
whiskey gets better with age,
so do well made guitars.
mountains become more serene,
and old trees are majestic with power!
the soup that simmers long
has a better taste.
old clothes are more comfortable.
old songs never get old...
old lovers know without asking.
old houses have their ghosts.
inside of me there's still a storm,
a rainbow, and something...
waiting on the dawn!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Christmas Zen #2
pickup loads of wood,
stray dog running beside the tracks...
young girl hauling a baby,
old coat pulled across her face.
somebody somewhere is crying,
the hands on the clock slowly crawl,
... bare Christmas trees in a parking lot.
& already a line at the soup kitchen,
the sound of bells, water dripping from a spicket...
old man in coveralls, selling...
pickup loads of wood.
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Last Breaking Of Dawn
ending, or beginning?
sometimes i still cant tell!
out of date postage stamps,
just dont deliver.
carbon and rust,
even cobwebs turn grey.
lips bent and crusted
never kiss the night!
holiness, old clothes,
the fit of the body fades.
time buries the fire,
again and again.
small things, kind words,
and the simplest touch.
the first cup of coffee,
the last breaking of dawn!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Oral Poetry
my tongue searches
through the layers of petals,
each curve on the way down;
knowing each cosmos,
and the depth of forever,
coming back to the mouth
of the river again...
lighting the fire,
rubbing sticks together....
till it bursts in flame,
and consumes the darkness...
then slowly bathing
the child, and the old woman...
the poetry of my hunger
screams through your veins!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Rain (That Never Comes)
revolution,
sexual desire,
holy anger,
the sparrow carved
from a dead tree.
tongue burnt,
the fist and the open hand...
touching the sky
with fingers in the dirt.
kissing, brown leaves,
smoke, an open window.
death, and hunger,
the glass broken,
trembling hands....
raw need, lips bleeding,
hearts wrapped in wheels.
thunder, the taste of lightning,
and rain that never comes!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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This Body The Glass!
your fingers the match,
to light this candle...
they tremble as if
memory unsure.
your lips the wine,
this body the glass.
drink long and deep,
before the moment is gone!
this storm will break,
the earth ravaged with passion.
the grain deep in the wood
brings forth leaves from the void!
and love itself,
needs no reason or answer.
the candle chooses fire,
this body the glass!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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To Each Of You!
Merry Christmas
to each of you....
whatever your faith,
whatever your skin color,
whatever your politics...
whether you're rich or poor,
whatever your sexual choices,
whomever you love...
i wish each of you peace,
may your needs be met,
and your heart be filled...
you are not alone,
and you are loved.
be all that you are
throughout the New Year....
and again, be at peace!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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You Are (Not Alone)
the stink on your breath,
is poverty...
the blood on your lips,
human blood...
the scars on your hands
match the scars
on your heart...
you are not alone,
you are not alone....
the only true value
is the value of a human being.
all true actions
come from the point of dignity.
holiness, not aloof or afar,
human flesh, breath, and bones...
you are not alone,
you are not alone...
poem by Eric Cockrell
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