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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Related quotes
The drug party
Four drugged kids were naked in the room
and had removed
every piece of clothing from their bodies.
Sweet sour with a smell
that is almost like khaki-weed,
their marijuana zol’s smell went right through the house.
When I stood at the front door
every thing in the house was ungodly and deadly silent,
as if I walked into a place were the spirit of man can die.
I opened the room door slowly
and there was no innocence to be seen
and only children that were naked on their knees
almost praying,
around that bottle point zol sitting staring
and the stench was more repulsive
than that of vomit or liquor.
Pain went right through my soul
to see children
throwing their lives away like this
and past all reason and other desires,
see them chase the drug god
and to see them lying there
somewhat dead to life.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Memories
Frankie laine was singing jezebel
I pinned an iron cross to my lapel
I walked up to the tallest and the blondest girl
I said, look, you dont know me now
But very soon you will
So wont you let me see
Wont you let me see
Wont you let me see
Your naked body
Just dance me to the dark side of the gym
Chances are Ill let you do most anything
I know youre hungry, I can hear it in your voice
Theyre many parts of me to touch, you have your choice
But no you cannot see
No you cannot see
No you cannot see
My naked body
We are dancing close, the band is playing stardust
Balloons and paper streamers floating down on us
She says, youve got a minute left to fall in love
In solemn moments such as this Ive put my trust
And all my faith to see
All my faith to see
All my faith to see
Her naked body
song performed by by Leonard Cohen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Moonlight Memories Of You
One time in everybody's life
There is a moment
Like the moment we knew
And if you're a fool
You'll let it slip away
Sometime in everybody's life
There is a feeling
A feeling so real
And once it's gone it can never be replaced
I'm dancing with a shadow
Holding on to a dream that'll never come true
Still haunted by that old love song
My moonlight memories of you
My heart is like a ghost town
To every stranger that passes on through
All they find there
Is what you left behind there
My moonlight memories of you
You thought when you left me
I'll let you go
But here I am loving you more
Then you'll ever know
If I could hold you
Feel your heart beat
Just one more time
There's nothing that I wouldn't do
'cause without your love
I'll never be free of
My moonlight memories of you
One time in everybody's life
There is a moment
Like the moment we knew
And if you're a fool
You'll let it slip away
I'm dancing with a shadow
Holding on to a dream that'll never come true
Still haunted by that old love song
My moonlight memories of you
My moonlight memories of you
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Old Man's Poems
old man's poems
written from a distance,
time and experience demand...
aged like good whiskey,
taken in sips, not gulps!
hang like clouds at sunset,
can burst into violent storms!
make love to the soul long and slow,
simmering o'er the fire.
weep with sadness like slow rain
in the night where no one can see....
written in stone like an epitaph,
an unmarked grave on a forgotten hill.
howl in the darkness like a lone wolf,
whisper like a child's simple prayer....
all too often smell like an old man,
rocking in his chair in an empty room!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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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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The Simplest Of Things...
there is a rare beauty
in the simplest of things...
the door knob tarnished,
the book with the worn cover.
the hallelujah shout of the snail,
rain water standing in an old tire.
the lampshade covered with dust,
the iron sitting unattended.
the child's toy left on the floor,
the hand that always somehow fits.
the old woman's heavy breathing,
the coffee cup stained half empty.
the cry of young lovers from a distant window.
the dog's low growl at something unseen.
the tattered remnants of the robin's nest,
the broken eggshell clinging to grass.
the old hymn sung by the man working his garden...
the swing of the axe, the stacking of wood.
the spider clinging to the outhouse wall,
potatoes laid out in the cellar for winter.
the grave solitary three days after the funeral.
the cat cradled on the step while it rains.
the laughter of a love long in journey.
the cup of coffee shared with the transient stranger.
the prayer of the child, and the room gone dark....
words spoken from the heart with hands and feet.
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Water can sustain life (but not for him)
Water can sustain life, , but not for him,
Water took his life, he never learned to swim;
Too many children, too many early deaths,
Water claimed their souls and dying breaths.
A fraction of a second, is all it takes,
Pools, canals and man-made lakes.
The greatest loss, is to the very young,
Their songs are finished, and left unsung,
Water refreshes the body no more,
The spark of life has exited the final door.
Water can sustain life, but not your daughters,
There is no such thing as 'our safe waters.'
The greatest loss, is unfinished growing,
The biggest loss, is always knowing,
Knowing your boy or girl is dead,
Wishing it were you instead.
poem by David Lessard
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To Live, By God!
to be swept away by the storm,
every room in the house akilter.
hair thrown across your face,
lips swollen with longing.
to pluck stars from the night sky,
and drink the dew like wild beasts.
to howl and moo, to hoot and caw,
to be the ant that led the others astray!
to build small fires by forbidden roads,
to sleep inside the cave.
to drink moonlight, and spit revolution,
to walk naked in the cool evening.
to live, by God....
to shout and curse and sweat.
to break windows and kick down doors...
to speak of things long hidden...
to live, and yes to love...
with a force that defies the wind,
and brings rain from the dust...
with the faith of a child!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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This Is My Naked Self
this is my naked self
what you are seeing is my naked truth
i am not ashamed of my flesh and body
you desire it
you touch it
let my senses live
wake me up with the slightest kindness
of your touch
this is my naked self
i am seated bside the open shutters of my green bay window
little touches of light from the early morning light sketch my shadow
i am here
long waiting for you
just you my love
my only love
kiss me
touch me
let me live for another day
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Not Knowing
Not knowing is worse...
Where to run to...
to have no one to hold you tightly and console is this not a curse?
but as for me who
do i have and whom may i turn to? whom may i trust
so many i wish to but my friendship turns to lust
my feelings melt into love
yearning for my more... when i should desire nothing...deserve no dove
deserve no one pure, for i am dirty...unclean
in this darkness my troubles teem
i drag myself deeper in to try to get to you...not knowing is worse
its a curse
not knowing if one is being ignored not knowing if what you turn to
is something that is real...not just real to you
Can you hear my voice im yelling now
i have been condemned by what i allow
sinking deeper just to have someone that i can touch
having something to turn to not being enough something to clutch
why can't i trust what saved me from the monster inside
why do i hide from Him and run to you
why do you ignore me and why do i feel ignored
why does my life not feel restored
I want to know who i am.. i want to know you too
tell me the reason we are distinct and so distant
but who can show me why i cannot trust the one who saved me, for this is not consistent
poem by David Knox
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Me And The Sea
do not expect me to wear
a G-string when i decide to take my swim
i always go naked.
I like always to feel the sea
all over my body
i plunge myself
and feel the nakedness of the sea
too
it's water all over me
all around me
naked sea to my naked body
you know how it feels
it feels like the way we do it
you are the sea
and i am a body
you are a body
and i am the sea
so simple and yet
what a bliss
naked, deep, blue, watery
wet, slippery, salty,
sweat mixed with the salt of the sea
two naked bodies
feeling
salt, earth, sand, fire
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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You Are The Empty...
i am the cross,
and i am the kiss...
i am the embrace,
and the parting stillness.
i am death falling from the trees,
i am eternity in the promise of snow.
i am the word spoken and heard,
slowly undressed with awe and hunger.
i am the tongue drawing history's face,
in every secret place, in every hidden treasure.
i am the fluid of love spillt with passion,
i am the touch, trembling and sure.
i am the shadow that lit the candle,
the shoe that fell to the floor.
i am the covered bridge,
and the sound of horses' hooves.
the screech of the owl,
the taunt of the moonlight.
i am the glass broken,
the panting of the darkness.
i am the chimney too long cold.
i am the name spoken in grunts,
the moan of the waves that cant find shore.
i am the wings that define the night,
you are the empty waiting to be filled!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Narcissistic Solitaire
in front of the mirror
you go naked and rub
your body with the oil
from your bare hands
the room is humiliated
and the mirror is angry
the act is done and
finished and you become
the mirror and you are
as empty as the big
room and then you
sleep as it is the only
possible place where
peace can reside.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The White Door
She gave me a call and i went to her room,
And immediately the doors were shut behind me;
But one thing led to the other and,
We finally found ourselves naked on the bed of roses!
The White Door,
But with a tub to the spot of thwe tops! !
There she laid and we made love,
And like the sweet smell of the roses around.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The Stink
the stink...
human excrement,
starving mouths,
skeleton bodies...
breath short and aching.
blood on the hands,
violent scars that tremble,
in the darkest night,
burning out of control.
hatred fear,
that drives and shatters.
the grip on the cup,
broken, and shaking.
hot love molten,
howl, and moan...
the stars in the sky,
falling like hot knives!
silent prayers,
tongues ripped from mouths,
that move like fish,
praying to the water.
feet walking through mud,
hands covered in ashes.
human hearts beating,
souls rotting with desire!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Degenerating
The dead sea
and the naked soul.
You are not worthy
of forgiveness. The smell
of sweaty soles
tells it all.
You dust the window
to read the green moon
and turn off the forest
of dark faces.
It is critical time
to collect the body
after falling from gray
humor of beliefs.
poem by Satish Verma
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Albums Of Loving
he walked ten miles
through the winter night,
then laid in a ditch
for over an hour....
waiting on her husband
to leave.....
Farina, Hesse, and
talking naked... vodka,
and enough passion
to almost save the world.....
2
he came home from work,
dog-tired, took off his
boots at the door....
he could hear the sound of music....
he walked into the great room...
she sat naked at the baby grand,
playing Tchaikovsky....
she smiled: 'i thought you'd like...'
3
it snowed a lot that winter.
he could still see her
in his mind's eye...
carrying buckets of water
through the snow...
up the hill....
heating water on that old woodstove,
baths in the galvanized bathtub.....
then as the fire went down...
they made love all night;
shadows in the moonlight,
great clouds of hungry breath....
no man ever had less, or more!
nothing else need be said....
love is the one moment in a thousand
when we really dare to live!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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The Song of Quoodle
They haven't got no noses,
The fallen sons of Eve;
Even the smell of roses
Is not what they supposes;
But more than mind discloses
And more than men believe.
They haven't got no noses,
They cannot even tell
When door and darkness closes
The park a Jew encloses,
Where even the law of Moses
Will let you steal a smell.
The brilliant smell of water,
The brave smell of a stone,
The smell of dew and thunder,
The old bones buried under,
Are things in which they blunder
And err, if left alone.
The wind from winter forests,
The scent of scentless flowers,
The breath of brides' adorning,
The smell of snare and warning,
The smell of Sunday morning,
God gave to us for ours
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
And Quoodle here discloses
All things that Quoodle can,
They haven't got no noses,
They haven't got no noses,
And goodness only knowses
The Noselessness of Man.
poem by G.K. Chesterton
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Would You?
if i made love to you with words,
would your breath quicken?
would your heart race?
would the moan of the wind
excite you, make you tremble?
would you see me in the shadows?
if i made love to you with rain,
would you stand in it till
you were drenched?
would you take off your clothes,
let the water run down your body?
would you kiss the clouds that bring?
embrace the lightning?
ride the great peels of thunder?
if i made love to you with stillness,
would you lay forever,
listening, panting, dissolving?
would you give that up
which you have never given?
would you wrap yourself
in the arms of darkness,
and wait with the mountains
for the coming light?
would you?
poem by Eric Cockrell
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You Are.... (Part Two)
you are....
the grey damp lines,
beneath the eyes of my heart.
words intimately spoken,
falling on an empty room.
the broken wheel,
left spinning in the dust.
the letter carried by crows,
to the snowbound north.
you are...
the faucet dripping,
the candle hidden in a drawer.
the sound of the spoon,
falling to the floor.
that pair of old shoes,
and a copper kettle.
the smell of perfume,
become the stink of time.
you are....
poem by Eric Cockrell
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