Howl (The Returning, Part Two)
gods hate, too damned late,
you worship what you fear!
while buddhas whisper
behind hidden doors,
and leaves fall from trees condemned!
souls traded, manipulated,
for a loaf of bread.
childrens' bodies, wrapped in money,
never make a sound.
bought votes, sacrificial goats,
toe the party line.
buildings blaze, justice burns,
the bells of liberty chime.
the human hand rises from the rubble,
grasping at poisoned air.
the tears of those long since dead,
fall like nuclear rain!
love me, hate me,
see me with your eyes.
feel me, touch me,
treat me like a man!
voices lost neath stained glass windows,
only the memory of need.
the final blow, blamed on god,
the result of human greed!
while naked bodies walk dirty streets,
their holiness defiled.
the stranger calls, the light falters,
as we trudge the final miles.
the eagle screams, hot flesh dreams,
the child raised by wolves...
the only hope, human desire,
and the will to light the torch!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Love Defiled
spirits wail in the napalm night,
bodies without faces walk deserted streets.
dreams whisper from cardboard boxes,
ants walk with angel's feet.
the sound of mouth's stricken,
deeper than just need.
the soul of fire shudders,
while glass eyed leeches feed.
history written with grave cost,
we are what we have done.
while outside the door anger lurks,
and the bullet seeks the gun!
gods? i think not....
even demons fear to tread.
the hand takes from its own heart,
and leaves the hunger for dead.
bells ring with hollow haunt,
fear drives the nails in the cross.
even tears of blood cannot repair,
what love defiled leaves as loss!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Too Many Lies
too many lies,
desecrate the ground.
the footprints of fallen angels,
covered by the dust of hate.
spoon fed history turned bitter,
the sound of children's voices lost.
even the old juke joints,
deserted and vacant.
handmade guitars,
strings made of human flesh.
the howl of an angry wind,
pierces cardboard shelters.
cars abandoned on the side of the road,
fresh turned earth, no hands to plant.
passion's legs wrapped around,
the bodies now hollow.
young girls fall like rain,
forgotten by time.
to be madly in love,
and pant with desire...
all echoes and rust!
when bibles become weapons,
and the cost is too high.
dead poets whisper,
neath the old hanging tree.
flags flown at half mast,
and the factories are closed.
and you just cant remember
your grandfather's face!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Only Human in the Light
You are everything I want in neat little package of unquestionable desire…, and everything I am compelled to be repelled for - Love, Sex, Lust Greed, the avarices of the guilty and the human.
On one hand I want to feel your body pulsating vibrantly against me as if you are a completion of unity that I have always wanted to know as the forbidden fruit and synergy of two united beings in mind… spirit… and most of all…… flesh
But then the other hand turns and it hits the nerve like acid rain, and you make me disgusted!
To want you, is an aberration of what I am, to think that I would allow another human being to suck this power out of me! And pierce the heavy armor I have wool myself in to protect myself against the lecherous claws of inhibitions of human skin. I hate, that I'm compelled by animal forces to blind me by the laws of natural selection which never feel natural to myself
Sometimes it feels like it would be easy to kill a billion, and hit a vein to tap the blood like sap from a tree. It feels so pure to always want to hate and destroy and burn, then it is to want to feel the touch of lips for the sake… of a kiss…
Because when I look at you there are two sides of my mind, one is the human compassionate element found in the thirst for love or the closest proximity of love in passion, in those moments I feel like you heal me with your body. That's the human side
The other is pure reptilian and malevolent who sees all forms of intimacy as a threat, and you are a threat to my stability and my integrity, you damage to my bodies equilibrium and most stable reasoning and I want to hide away into the bottom of an endless keep hoping to forget your face which has trapped me in amber with your angelic face of pure sin.
I wish I could have the things that come so easily to others, but the thing of it is… I'm only human in the light.
poem by Kevin Patrick
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I Am.... (Namaste)
i heard your soul whimper
from across the miles,
in the dead of night,
when you thought no one cared.
i saw the light in your eyes,
when you fed the hungry child,
and brushed the dirt from his face
with hands that trembled.
i felt the tears,
that you couldnt cry...
as you buried your only son,
killed in their wars.
i smelled the fear in your body,
but tasted the grit and determination,
as they beat you to the street
for protesting their greed.
i shook with the cold lonliness
of your tiny cell,
where they left you
with no identity or hope...
your freedom taken
for standing up for freedom,
your human rights taken
for defending human rights.
i am the song,
and the hymn of you.
i bathe in your light,
i drink your darkness.
i taste the colors of your skin,
and they all taste the same.
i feel your fears,
your desires, and your dreams.
i am the farmer, the mill worker,
i stand in your factory lines.
i am the activist, the doubter,
the good and the evil.
i feel the blows you've taken,
i can name your scars.
i've slept with your failures,
and buried your mistakes.
i am the love of your hidden names,
i walk by your sides,
know your steps and your sweat.
i am the good things you've done,
and yes, even the bad!
i am the triumph, and i am the loss.
i am the breath of god,
that fills your bodies....
you are the flesh and bones
and the feet of my dreams!
i am the sacred, the magnificent,
the simple, and the mundane...
all living within
every moment you live!
i am the song,
and the hymn of you.
i am the work
that only you can do.
i am the dance, the drive,
the passion, and the chance...
you are the words
that only god can express!
namaste!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Oblivion
thunder and lightning, gunfire,
the stench of death...
we race towards oblivion,
cant feel, cant get our breath!
drum beat and shadows,
lost in the blinding heat.
dead poets and childrens' bodies,
rubble beneath our feet.
smoke fills the air-
trees fall, rivers run dry.
fighting over a loaf of bread,
and the last bowl of rice.
ghoulish gasoline prophets
ring the bell, count the cost...
old people put out on the streets,
now all is over, all is lost.
forgotten faces lost in the roar,
demons dance on unmarked graves.
the bell of freedom rains down fire,
while we hide like fugitives in caves.
and the sound of the wheels,
louder and louder till we're deaf!
we take and burn and use
till nothing good is left
and the face of our hell
is just the face of our desires.
we turn away from those around us,
while our hunger feeds the fire.
thunder and lightning, gunfire,
the stench of death.
we race towards oblivion,
cant feel, cant even get our breath!
smoke fills the air,
trees fall, rivers run dry.
fighting over a loaf of bread,
and the last bowl of rice.
and the sound of the wheels,
louder and louder till we're deaf.
we take and burn and use
till nothing good is left.
we race towards oblivion,
cant feel, cant even get our breath!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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I Walk Alone...
i am the last rebellion,
the fire you cannot control.
i am the faces of lost bodies,
names written in blood.
i am the call to battle,
armed by the heart.
i am the silence that knows,
the darkness that takes.
i am poverty's shadow,
and the language of need.
i am the anger of the beaten,
i am the field forsaken.
i am the tint of skin,
and the color of the eyes....
the song of the shovel and whip.
i am the bones of the old ones,
shaking with rage.
the tears of the grandmothers,
the dirty hands of small children.
i am the soldier imprisoned,
on the streets of despair.
i am the conscience of the murderer,
that haunts the night.
i am the bodies of lovers,
glistening with passion.
i am the child born,
neath a sky with no star.
i am the crucifix and prayer beads,
the hymn known only by trees.
i am the dog abandoned,
rain falling without remorse.
i am the monk self-immoliated,
the cry for freedom unheard.
i am human dignity,
and i walk alone!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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How Wide The Dawn
How wide the Dawn
Is smiling!
How silent-new
The air is breathing!
How raw the sea
Without a wave
Is looking!
And in the night –
Id est last night
How strange
The owl chanteth!
How far, how far
Its cry did seem
And yet
It was so near!
How thrilled the tree
Below my lighted window
And in the night
The solemn night
The owl was still a-calling
To spirits wild
Perhaps
Or long white ghosts
Perhaps!
And in the eyes
Of the pale moon
The lake nearby glistened:
How white
How thin
The rays that fall
In midst of the dark waters!
And from the lake
A soundless sound
Is coming:
For in the waves
And from the waves
There comes a little gurgling
And in the night
In the long night
The owl is speaking, speaking!
Ah! this night – in the night
The people in the house
Are all a-sleeping
I – only I
The vigil, the night-vigil
Am making:
And I
And only I
Will my reward receive
For I
And only I
Am seeing
For I
And only I
Am hearing
And I
And only I
Am feeling!
How strange how sere
The feeling!
How from the clear night
The mist of sudden riseth!
And from afar
Past ten long fields
The cemetery is burning
With the pale light
Of the swift moon
That fall
On every wall
This long, long night!
It seems
It seems
That the cemetery’s open:
And yet
And yet
There is no noise
No sound
But from the yews
A soundless sound
Is coming:
A restless sound
Like souls
This night all-aching
And restless
Restless
At some thing
I am not hearing!
Ha! We on earth
Make prisons
And lodge
Bodies – human bodies in them:
And we on earth
Make cemeteries
And lodge
Bodies – human bodies in them
And the long night
Under the light
Of heaven
How waning-blue
And tight
Is coming!
So:
At long last
We fall into a prison
If not the one
In fine to the other
And at the last
And in the last
We enter our last prison:
And in the night
The long and lonely night
The cemetery is shining!
poem by Emmanuel George Cefai
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Do You Care? Do You Care?
there are people dying everywhere,
do you care? do you care?
there are people hungry everywhere,
do you care? do you care?
gunshots, bomb drops,
thunder splits the sky.
preacher on the tv,
says you're gonna die.
patriots, deviants,
doors ripped off the hinge.
children eating fathers,
freedom on the fringe!
equality, dignity,
slam the prison doors.
bodies in the ditch,
aint nobody keeping score.
nuclear rain, cocaine,
oceans full of oil.
god died, the president lied,
coming to a boil.
there are people dying everywhere,
do you care? do you care?
there are people hungry everywhere,
do you care? do you care?
black skin, white skin,
grated till they bleed.
angry men without hope,
taking what they need.
well paid lies, cut the ties,
glass figures stand in line.
love screams, shattered dreams,
the blind lead the blind!
trees cut, doors shut,
food stamps and day old bread.
schools closed, books burned,
hear the cry of the dead.
injustice rages, guilty pages,
we reap what we have sowed.
this world on fire, with desire,
the truth the final code!
there are people dying everywhere,
do you care? do you care?
there are people hungry everywhere,
do you care? do you care?
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Burn And Rage
alone...
in a room of voices,
dirty curtains sweating,
bodies without heat!
you buried me,
a 100 miles back...
poured milk on my grave,
and answered the phone.
but even the scar throbs,
the moon calls...
and the fire in the fugitive field,
burns down.
old men tell stories,
old poets burn and rage...
run with wolves, mad and hungry,
for touch, skin, and need!
when the soul becomes a tongue,
and fingers break windows.
the water in the well boils,
owls tremble and undress.
the hand that calls rain...
shakes, lights a smoke!
sweat sings on the pillow,
the scent of wild flowers.
travelling the night...
looking for a match!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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I Can Feel..... (The Change Coming)
i can feel the change coming,
the dark swell of the clouds.
the rumble that shakes the streets,
i can smell buildings on fire.
can hear the planes,
the sound the bombs make falling,
the pulsing hate of the oil rigs,
the shuffle of money behind closed doors.
the wail of prayers in desperate churches,
the street dealer selling a loaf of bread.
the metallic sound of shovels digging graves,
the ignorant drone of great leaders.
the sound of boots on pavement,
breath shuddering through broken windows.
the silent stare of the angry and hungry,
the thunderous clenching of fists.
the haunted sound of chains and cell doors,
and riot squad bullhorns.
the tongues of truth cut from bodies,
the last cigarette lit.
the pounding hearts of the common,
black and white joined.
coming in waves, determined as one.
and the cries of the children...
always the cries...
held in the hearts as a beacon,
the reason to live and die!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Camelot
In times gone by was a place called Camelot,
Where dreams of greatness thrived a lot,
Human greed and hate broke the plate,
An evil dark hand, cursed the land,
A human King lost his balance,
His guiding light in a trance,
His side pierced by a lance,
His sword at once an outcast,
How long would the darkness last?
Would love's greatness the darkness pass?
When will laughter and song return,
How can we empty the devil's urn?
When those with caring hearts,
Feel the love all around and our souls we have found,
Then around us peace will abound!
19 May 2012
HanGawi
Manhattan
poem by David Andre' Klopper
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For Baby (For Bobbie)
Ill walk in the rain by your side
Ill cling to the warmth of your hand
Ill do anything to keep you satisfied
Ill love you more than anybody can
And the wind will whisper your name to me
Little birds will sing along in time
Leaves will bow down when you walk by
And morning bells will chime
Ill be there when youre feelin down
To kiss away the fears if you cry
Ill share with you all the happiness Ive found
A reflection of the love in your eyes
And Ill sing you the songs of the rainbow
A whisper of the joy that is mine
And leaves will bow down when you walk by
And morning bells will chime
Ill walk in the rain by your side
Ill cling to the warmth of your tiny hand
Ill do anything to help you understand
And Ill love you more than anybody can
And the wind will whisper your name to me
Little birds will sing along in time
Leaves will bow down when you walk by
And morning bells will chime
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Nemesis Of Man
I hear the screams
I feel the pain
crashing, destroying, and annihilating whatever heart
that's left in this world.
Confusion taking over the fragile mind
Greed tearing apart so many lives
Pain amongst pain, pang of guilt tearing apart the
human heart
Can it be true?
The heavens are crying, shedding tears of sorrow
Watching us penetrate anguish into our own souls
Is it all a nightmare - a creation of our self conscious?
A quiet, ticking voice - controlling our every moment
Too invisible for the human eyes - to see, to feel,
or to comprehend.
We see 'them' working their evil - taken over by greed,
animosity and hate
Man's worst enemy is man himself
As the stands of time continue to fall -
will civilization perish or stand tall?
poem by Rumana Ahmed
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Blinded By Rainbows
Did you ever feel the pain
That he felt upon the cross
Did you ever feel the knife
Tearing flesh that's oh so soft
Did you ever touch the night
Did you ever count the cost
Do you hide away the fear
Put down paradise as lost
Yeah you're blinded by rainbows
Watching the wind blow
Blinded by rainbows
Do you dream at night
Do you sleep at night
I doubt it
Did you ever feel the blast
As the semtex bomb goes off
Do you ever hear the screams
As the limbs are all torn off
Did you ever kiss the child
Who just saw his father shot
Do you ever shed a tear
As the war drags on and on
Do you ever touch the night
Or is it just another job
Do you feel the final hours
Put down paradise as lost
Yeah you're blinded by rainbows
And faces in windows
Blinded by rainbows
Do you dream at night
Do you sleep at night
I doubt it
Do you ever fear the night
Could it be the war is lost
Do you fear the final hour
Do you kneel before the cross
You're blinded by rainbows
And watching the wind blow
Blinded by rainbows
Do you dream at night
Do you scream at night
Do you smell of fear
Is your conscience clear
Are you caked in sweat
Are your clothes all wet
Do you see the light
Is the end in sight
See the face of Christ
Enter paradise
I doubt it
song performed by by Rolling Stones from Voodoo Lounge
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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By A Thousand Doors
perhaps now this ark is finished,
i can smell the distant dawn.
the light against the window be no stranger,
nor the sound of bare feet in the night.
the crows gather neath the pine tree,
as the wind prepares to die.
voices fallen from the trees,
mine a cloud, a branch, a stone.
it seems tonight the stars finally answer,
all this time i thought i was alone.
a child is born, a life is taken,
streetlights blink in perfect time.
while redemption sleeps in alleys,
and poets silently sweep.
the heart revealed no longer journeys,
for the destination be now the feet.
the tears of god gleam in the darkness,
a stranger's kiss, a soldier's prayer.
infidels gather jewels cast aside,
feed the hungry with human souls.
the song wrapped in plain brown paper,
left by a thousand doors!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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The Murder Of Humanity
Once there lived two friends,
human and humanity.
human was loving and caring,
while humanity spread peace and brotherhood.
under their friendship tree,
everyone was happy and merry.
in the same world lived Hate and Greed, full of sinister.
very different from all the other.
who were always jealous of human and humanity,
and they tried hard to part the friends
and throw them away in different ends.
the did succeed,
in the heart of human they planted hate-seed.
soon the seed started to rear,
and human was left with no love and care.
it turned furious towards humanity.
all their friendship woes turned into enmity.
hate and greed infected human one after the other.
and made human to commit the murder.
end of peace was marked with the murder of humanity,
in some lost corner is the grave of humanity,
now the world knows only hate, greed and enmity.
The Soul Calls!
white twin, black twin,
concepts and lies.
images on images,
truth revealed dies.
prayers, simple touch,
falling prey to fate.
fires consume fires,
love is born of hate.
light fails, shadows talk,
the stranger stinks like god.
swords being sharpened,
horses being shod.
bombs fall, bodies cry,
the battle for the self.
the dead sing, the lost dream,
the book still on the shelf.
the hammer strikes the anvil,
the wind cuts you to the bone.
put on your boots, pick up your saddle.
the soul calls the body home!
the soul calls the body home...
hellbound streets, love stained sheets,
the lover is betrayed.
sold on the blocks, down by the docks,
hearts for pawn and trade.
poverty strikes, humility burns,
dignity lost in the crowd,
survival edge, walks the ledge,
only honesty allowed!
the hammer strikes the anvil,
the wind cuts you to the bone.
put on your boots, pick up your saddle.
the soul calls the body home!
the soul calls the body home....
poem by Eric Cockrell
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I Am Sick......
i am sick of your justice...
sick of dead bodies strewn,
sick of your bursts of gunfire,
and your bombs without conscience.
sick of the napalm fingers of your equality,
trading flesh for nickels and dime.
sick of your powder and your pills,
sick of the rape of the young girl
beneath your flag!
i am sick of your nuclear bibles,
sick of your buying and trading.
i am sick of the pound of your oil rigs,
sick of the stink of your morality.
i am sick of your hanging trees,
your courtrooms stacked.
i am sick of the money you sleep with,
sick of your colorless freedom.
i am sick of your smokestacks gone silent.
sick of your riot squads gassing.
i am sick of the amendments you've twisted,
sick of your hate and your prejudice...
i am sick of your slavery,
your prisons, your human rights violations.
i am sick of your political lies....
revolution, by common bond,
the choice of integrity, or death!
the dignity of the human soul demands,
that we live or we die!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Hammer Purged By Rust!
in cursed dread
with iron thoughts,
the rebel plows his fields.
neath napalm skies,
infested by drones and crows,
his hands are bound by time.
tis murder by execution,
truth revealed by blood!
the carnal cross,
the skulls of dreams,
and virgin bodies for seed.
who pays the price,
who tames the beast,
the child devoured by wolves.
with flags betrayed,
by human conscience,
and gods that shed acid tears!
and the sound of voices swells,
till the earth trembles and shakes.
faces drawn on tombstones,
with crayons made of flesh.
do we pray with tongues
stricken by disease?
do we kneel or dare we fight?
freedom's just a remembered thought,
and justice stinks of lies!
yet still the rebel casts forth,
with seeds stolen in the hour of need.
pulling nails from grey casket lids,
with a hammer purged by rust!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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In The End!
madness, churning, burning,
turning on a spit....
they feed the fire with the bodies,
drink the blood of the expendables.
life bruised, pulsing, throbbing,
all stand naked in the end!
and only the flesh that stinks with being,
finds the path of true holiness!
the street vendors, and the charlatans....
laugh to hide from the sound,
of the tiny beat of a single heart,
a universe inside itself!
in the end the crows will eat the flesh,
of those that bought and sold;
who traded souls for power,
and were consumed by their own hunger!
and the guns will lay silent on the ground,
tombstones for empty graves....
the wind will moan with children's voices...
for man hath judged himself!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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