Can You... I Can!
can you hear the murmur
of the empty vase?
the moan of the cupboard bare?
can you feel the coldness
of the empty room?
the heartbeat of the chair?
the hammer cast aside?
can you touch the tremble
of the mailbox full?
of the grass wild and haggard?
can you smell the absence?
the memory, and the grain?
can you light the match?
can you taste your breath?
can you shovel the dirt,
head bent with prayer?
can you lay down the box,
and cut the strings?
can you... i can!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Related quotes
The Scriptures
i read the scriptures written in human faces,
in calloused hands, in bruises and scars.
in the spider's web, in the trail of the snail.
in the pot stained with use,
in the axe and the plow.
in the old woman's silence,
in the broken window.
in worn out boots, and the broken lock.
in the gravel drive,
in the eyes of the hungry....
in the fear of those oppressed by war.
in the dead squirrel's body,
in the nest left empty.
in the prisoner staring
through a window barred.
in the old man's chair,
a dog's turd and a hill of ants.
in the fallen leaf,
in the empty room.
in solitude and stillness,
in the prayer of lonliness.
in trash strewn in the alley,
in the grave unmarked.
in the truth of doubt,
in a puddle of rainwater.
in fresh cut grass,
in the cow fresh milked.
in the lover's touch,
in the dialogue of silence.
in the shovel, the hammer, and the flute.
in the grain of the old tree,
and the woman giving birth...
let us speak of nothing less!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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The Light Of Day
there is a place,
there is a time.
there is a heart,
there is a prayer.
there is a tear,
and arms that rhyme.
there is a day
when somebody cares.
there is something deeper,
we dont understand.
that dares to touch,
and breaks the shell.
there is something more,
than castles built of sand.
that you cant take,
cant buy or sell.
the strangers touch,
in the rose that blooms.
in the child that's crying,
the man near death.
tis the face of god,
in the empty room.
in the sweat and dirt,
and in every breath.
what we dont know,
but our hearts abide.
what we cant see,
but our souls can taste.
you cant live life
if you're afraid to die.
in the darkness of night,
the light of day!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Memory
i dont like the feeling,
the touch, the smell, or
the taste of
'you dont love me, but'
i keep grasping shadows
that leave empty burns
on my fingertips
drinking from an empty cup
waiting on the light,
darkness, or a falling star.
memory is a vengeful lover!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Who Will You Blame
When you have no one to blame
Then who will you blame
For your suffering and your pain,
Would you blame it on GOD
Though to me that would seem odd
But would you, or could you, blame GOD.
When you then begin to suffer
Over hate or pain or some other
And you cant blame it on one or another,
Who will you then decide
That made you suffer and then made you cry
Especially, with no one at your side.
When you are there all alone
Inside of your empty home
And no one can hear you moan,
You are just there
And for you no one does care
So no one offers you a prayer.
When you have made a mistake
Maybe instead of giving you did take
Or maybe something, you did break,
Whose fault will it be
In that part of your destiny
When you cant blame someone, or even me.
Then when you are getting old
And you are carrying a heavy load
And then you catch yourself a terrible cold,
Your family and friends are all gone
So now there is just you, the one
So tell me, can you still continue on.
Your cupboards are now all bare
And all you have is an empty chair
And in your mirror, you see and empty stare,
But now then comes that rain
And now who will you blame
For all your suffering, and all your pain.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Poet's Epitaph
i see the lights of a far distant shore.
i hear the moan of thundered skies.
i smell the perfume of rain not fallen.
i taste the lips of earth, and of trees.
i see the fire in cold artic winters.
i hear the words the wind desires.
i smell the scent of passion held back.
i taste the blood of coming death.
i see the dawn of the blackened cave.
i hear the weeping of mountains still.
i smell the coffin, and shovelled dirt.
i taste the spirit set free in flight!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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To have a feel of my food
To have the feel of my food not just the taste of it in my tongue
I use my bare hands, the rice I fold between my palms the fish
I touch with my fingers, and then my mouth opens to swallow and savor
Just like you tonight, I feel you with my bare hands I taste you
With my tongue because you are the food of my soul and my soul
Feeds on you as you also feed on mine
We are bare all over, not just our bare hands
We touch we feel we lick we breath with our noses
On our skins, we feed on our flesh, we go deeper
Into our souls, our eyes feast on the food we lay in front of us
The lights of our eyes open in our room the festivity to a beginning
We feed on ourselves we are hungry & greedy & we are never full
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I Can Hear Your Heartbeat
In the silence of the side street
In the whisper of the night
From the darkness of the empty hours
To the early morning light
From the hustle down on main street
With all it's lights so bright
To the trucker on the highway
Pressing through the night
I can hear you heartbeat
I can hear you heartbeat
Girl, the sound of you is so sweet
To me
And i'm sailing on your wind song
Oh, i can feel the summer breeze
You've got me walking on my tiptoes
You've got me standing on my knees
From the mills way down in pittsburgh
To the clubs of gay paris
Ah, no matter where i roam, girl,
You can always get to me
I can hear you heartbeat
I can hear you heartbeat
Girl, the sound of you is so sweet
To me
We got freezing coca-cola
We got anything you want
I moving on that back beat
Girl, but it's you that sings the song
'cos i can hear you heartbeat
I can hear you heartbeat
The sound of you is so sweet
To me
Oh i still hear your heartbeat
Yea i still hear your heartbeat
Girl, the sound of you is so sweet,
To me
song performed by by Chris Rea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We Are Alive
I can feel the air around me,
I can see the people laughing and singing,
I can be the spirit in the trees,
I can fly with the birds in the sky.
I can believe what I want to belive.
I can say and do what I want.
I can be who I want to be,
I can follow my dreams.
I can taste the life within me,
I can smell the sweet breath of my soul,
I can be with the people before me,
I can think of those to come.
I can see through the eyes of others,
I can put myself in their shoes.
I can feel everything around me,
I can see the people laughing,
I can hear the sobs of an infant,
I can taste the love of a mother.
I can see the lives of others,
I can imagine what they are thinking,
I can guess what they are like.
I can see the colors in the wind,
I can hear the breath of god whispering his knowlage,
I can taste the strength he gave me,
I can feel the life in my veins.
I can stand here and think of all these things,
I can watch the day fall into night,
I can wait for what tomorrow will bring to me.
I can carry the word of god to others,
I can show them the light of hope.
I can show people the truth,
I can bring you the message of life,
I can bring you the knowlage of faith.
I can run through the prairies and forest,
I can touch everything around me.
I can hear my heartbeat in my ears,
I can feel the passing spirits,
I can smell the warmth of the Earth,
I can feel the live with in me.
I can tell you you can too,
I can show you the way to be free,
I can bring you to know your mother, Earth.
I can try my hardest to show you,
I can hope you'll understand,
Yet I know
It's up to you to welcome this power,
I know you can, just like
I can.
We are one with eachother,
We are one with the Earth,
She is our mother,
We are alive.
poem by Bethany Maxwell
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In Light of the Sinking Sun
An empty chair
A quiet room
In light of the moons full glare.
A sleeping man
A cell of stone
In light of the moons full glare.
A dark hall
A silent porch
In light of the moons full glare.
Flickering light
Buzzing flies
In light of the moons full glare.
The man awakes
Stifles a moan
In light of the fading moon.
Shuffling feet
Dangling keys
In light of the fading moon.
The door opens
The man hauled out
In light of the fading moon.
Straps are tightened
Machine turned on
In light of the fading moon.
A button pushed
A scream of pain
In light of the fading moon.
A blackened body
Smoke-filled room
In light of the fading moon.
Six foot hole
Dug in the woods
In light of the fading moon.
The headstone in
The words are said
In light of the rising sun.
The next man sits
Upon that chair
In light of the rising sun.
Poor old man,
Dealt the hand
In light of the rising sun.
Dealt the hand,
The blow of power
In light of the rising sun.
An evil laugh
A blackened body
In light of the rising sun.
The executioner stands
By a silent chair
In light of the sinking sun.
poem by Samantha Jo
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Dreamin'
If I close my eyes I see your face and I'm not without you
If I trying hard and concentrate I can still hear you speak
I picture myself in your room by the chair
you're smoking a cigarette
If I close my eyes I can see your face you're saying, "I missed you"
Dreamin' - I'm always dreamin'
If I close my eyes I can smell your perfume you look and say "Hi baby"
If I close my eyes pictures from China still hang from the wall
I hear the dog bark I turned and say, "what were you saying?"
I pictured you in the red chair inside the pale room
You sat in your chair with a tube in your arm - you were so skinny
You were still making jokes I don't know what drugs they had you on
You said, " I guess this is not the time for long term investments"
You were always laughing but you never laughing at me
They say in the end the pain was so bad that you were screaming
Now you were no saint but you deserved better than that
From the corner I watch them moving things from your apartment
But I can picture you red chair and pale room inside my head
If I close my eyes I see your face and I'm not without you
If I try hard and concentrate I can gear your voice saying,
"Who better than you"
If I close my eyes I can't believe that I'm here without you
Inside your pale room your empty red chair and my head
Dreamin' , I'm always dreamin'
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Epilogue (Part Three)
shivering nails,
black and white coffins whisper.
bodies without heads,
strewn in the sand.
the taste of gunpowder
on my lips.
i bow, but cannot pray!
the sound of the oil rigs,
the coarse rhythm of greed.
take and destroy, take and fulfill!
the cry of sea life,
the gurgling choke,
soon to be the children
of flaccid men.
buildings like bodies,
stripped empty and bare.
the memories smell
of life that once was.
empty, and pulsing,
with the want of need,
no one hears the ghosts within.
hunger and homelessness,
heroin and Jesus.
the shelves are bare,
the mother's eyes are bleeding.
the nameless and unwanted,
cast aside in the storm,
while ghouls walk amid
the rubble of the lie.
sing for me, pray for me,
take my hand, take my hand...
even when i close my eyes,
i still hear, still feel,
the faces of the wind!
and god, if there be,
in each and every tear!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Quiero Tu Manos Por Todo Mi Cuerpo
If I could just touch you
Maybe I could breathe
But, because I can't touch you
It's like I can't speak, walk, or see
A look in your eyes-
One like NEVER before
It seems to just haunt me
Until I'm left screaming for more
If only I could feel you
For at least just a moment
Just one touch, one taste-
And, I'd make it mine and just own it
I promise one touch
Is all that I need
I'll then live off of the memory
Of that one touch-I plead...
But, if I do feel you,
I may crumble to the floor
I may extend a hand
And, beg for one more...
It is you that I long for,
As I desperately try to gasp for a breath...
And, I just need to feel YOU...
I now mourn your absence like a death!
And, while they try to bury you
Paralyzed-I fall to the ground!
I try to stand up, I open my mouth,
But, to no surprise-I can't make a sound!
But, I know that you feel it
No words were ever needed...
The memories they haunt me,
Like a button that's stuck, or a show that's repeated-
I can see you and hear you,
I feel the energy lighting the room
The darkness, the light,
A black rose in full bloom
I can practically taste you
It's the Laws of Nature we can't defy
You can't prevent it from happening
It's something that you just can't deny...
I know that you feel me
As I course through your veins
I could be the perfect drug
As I surrender-you hold the reigns!
It's a lust, and a longing
It's DEVOURING need..
It's obsession-I crave you
And, now you feel it, indeed!
So I reach out a hand,
You must embrace this fate
The air, it is thick
And, it IS getting late!
So walk with me,
If only one time...
Because you DO feel my desire...
Yes, we've cross that line.
© Copyright 2011 Nicole Settimi/Dark Lyric Poetry
Dark Lyric Poetry by The Dark Artist Nicole Settimi
poem by Nicole Settimi
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Dreamin - Escape
If I close my eyes I see your face
And Im not without you
If I try hard and concentrate
I can still hear you speak
I picture myself in your room by the chair
Youre smoking a cigarette
If I close my eyes I can see your face
Youre saying, I missed you
Dreamin, Im always dreamin
If I close my eyes I can smell your perfume
You look and say, hi baby
If I close my eyes pictures from china
Still hang from the wall
I hear the dog bark I turn and say
What were you saying?
I picture you in the red chair
Inside the pale room
Dreamin, Im always dreamin
You sat in your chair with a tube in your arm
You were so skinny
You were still making jokes
I dont know what drugs they had you on
You said, I guess this is not the time
For long term investments
You were always laughing
But you never laughing at me
They say in the end the pain was so bad
That you were screaming
Now you were no saint but you deserved
Better than that
From the corner I watched them removing things
From your apartment
But I can picture you red chair and pale room
Inside my head
If I close my eyes I see your face
And Im not without you
If I try hard and concentrate I can hear your voice saying
Who better than you
If I close my eyes I cant believe that
Im here without you
Inside your pale room your empty red chair
And my head
Dreamin, Im always dreamin
Dreamin, Im always dreamin
Dreamin, Im always dreamin
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Am.... (Rotting Wood)
i am...
the old man smell of rotting wood,
the stagnant pool of water,
devoid of life!
the smell of young lust,
and the stink of love over years.
i am the children raised,
and the empty room.
i am the mistakes made,
and the chances long gone.
i am the moments of joy,
that no one can steal.
i am the prayer of the doubter,
the honesty of the naked moment.
i am the naked body of an old man,
where sparrows build nests!
i am the turn of the wheel,
the hum of the beat.
i am the hunger that races
through the darkness by moonlight.
i am the magic and the mystical,
the simple and the plain.
i am the hoot of the owl,
the stranger at the door.
i am the knowing without knowing;
i am dirty, and sweaty,
and covered with sap.
i am the words hidden,
in the growl and the howl....
i am the ghost, and the remembrance,
the touch that made you tremble.
i am the moan in your mirror,
the shadow dancing by your grave!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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The Insecurities Of Aging...
the more you age
the more you keep things to yourself
old and new socks are mixed up in one wooden cabinet
somehow you are not using any
it is just the keeping for keeping sake
you are not thinking of any heir of any shoe
you begin to emphasize the importance of empty containers
how each must be filled
an empty cup must have coffee to its brim
an empty room must have someone to talk to
and empty road shall have at least one car making a dusty path
the empty stairs are too fearful to look at
how you hate an empty chair
it can make you sick if no one sits in there in another hour
the hours can be empty too
how can you stop the arms of the clock from taking away the sound
of ticking?
you are sensing a terminal
the train must be full so that you can never experience the
palpitations of being alone
you can hear it like the sounds of korean drums
the cascading waterfalls
the horns of taxis in city traffic
do not dare to stop the inevitable
i assure you... you can't. So? get yourself attuned
have an empty cup and learn to drink from it
you must feign the satisfaction of thirst, because
it can't be long.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Inbetween, We Live!
the human heart feeds...
we are born hungry, born searching,
born needing, born wanting....
left alone on an island...
we lift our beaks to the sky,
gulping for flesh, gulping for air,
gulping for fire....
still smelling of ocean,
and something dark we cant name,
we run into the open,
running, not knowing where.
i cannot live
without the taste of darkness,
the smell of flesh,
and the touch of that
which is hidden...
i shout into the ocean,
and hear only the roar...
i leap from the ledge,
forgetting my wings!
i need a small fire,
and the secrets that curtains tell windows.
my lips need the grain
of soul on soul.
my body burns,
i listen for the prayer of ashes,
ashes that tremble
on the hearth alone.
i need body and eyes,
most of all eyes...
the curve of the breast,
coming and going with the tides.
i need legs and dampness,
conversation without words...
i need to remember
that i am alive.
the quiet walks in the rain,
with god as our partner.
barking with the dogs,
stopping to touch a blade of grass.
the feel of nearness,
the breath of companion....
we are born and die alone,
inbetween, we live!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Empty Old Houses
Empty Old Houses
Empty old houses can talk…
But one must know how to listen…
to hear them
Empty old houses have stories…
But one must be eager to listen…
to hear them
Empty old houses can suffer..
But one must have empathy …
To feel it
Empty old houses can feel pain
But one must be able to bear it …
To feel it
Empty old houses have memories
But one must believe … that they have…
To share them
Empty old houses contain people’s lives
But one must believe…that they do…
To share them
Empty old houses can seem dead and deserted
But one must know that they’re not..
To know them
Empty old houses can teem with life’s pleasures
But one must walk through
to sense the aura of life
Empty old houses abound in life’s treasures
But one cannot help but…
To admire them
poem by David Whalen
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Night Hymn...
there is a wind
that has no name...
there is a river,
without beginning or end.
there is a night,
that fills the heart.
there is a stillness,
that smells like home.
there is a light,
in a window bare.
there is a cross,
worn round the neck.
there is a touch,
in the empty hand.
there is a song,
that fills the cup.
there is a prayer,
that tastes like dew.
there is a heartbeat,
a glimmer in the eyes.
there are stars,
that wait for me.
there are waves,
that bear my name.
there is a poem,
i could not write.
so i laid down my pen...
and lived it!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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The Comfort Of A Drunken Mind
Lipstick on an empty glass
A Memory of a smile
In my time, don’t you know?
Young girls vied for my attention
Always posing, Heartbreaker to women was I.
God, I will never see her smile again
Her voice silent to me
Inside I am a flower without rain
A musician without music
My love waits in a queue,
Full of fools, and whiskey bottles
Ahhh another drink
Yes tomorrow, will be better
I remember her stare,
Sitting on that chair,
That damn chair.
Drink Darling?
My Blossom of the night,
A smooth talker me.
I broke her dreams
Now Petals on a stormy sea
I remember her scent
Now washed away on the hurricanes breath
Called Whisky
Ahh another drink, she won’t leave me?
Damn that empty chair
To bed, the morning will bring her back
The bottle sleeps
And the sandman paints his illusions
Dreams invulnerable to reality
The glow of dawn, incinerates these imposters
Fabricated in the monsoon of a drowning brain
Cornflakes and Barley wine, a man’s breakfast
What now, a snifter I think and another thought?
Love has left this empty chair
Where dreams and happiness dwelt
Where futures were planned
And where love flowed, intoxicating our lives.
Still, the empty glass remains.
Ahh, another drink, and another illusion to comfort my soul
The bottle is my love now,
And the empty chair, my sentence.
That damned empty chair
Ahh did I tell you, once I was a heartbreaker?
Come Share a drink with me friend?
poem by Steven Cooke
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I Know You Are Here
i know you are here
i have this sense of smell of a fox
a dog, a cat
and i smell your decency in your discreet
appearances
in the air in the atmosphere where you keep your silence
and secret
presence
you love me i know and you would have wanted to touch me
as i too
do
but the world has its own rules and laws of
nature
and physical dictates
its axis
its determined revolutions the way the zodiac
put the stars
you are at one end and i am at the other
we smell
each other's presence we sense each other's longings
even in a distance
of lightyears
of this interplanetary distances
yet i am the earth and you are the sky
i am the sun and you are the moon
you are the farthest star
and i am the pebble
thrown to the deepest part of the ocean floor
it is simply this memory that links us
something unfulfilled
the empty space
and the passing wind invisible always till the end of time
i feel the coldness of us
on the skin
of my cheek
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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