Muddy Footprints
blue lights in the parking lot,
faceless cars speed by
on rain swept streets....
ghosts march in pedantic rhythm,
in the land of 'no touch, no feel'....
the gas pumps beeping,
always beeping.... shadows
feed shadows... a stray dog
dead on the side of the road....
'can you spare a coupla dollars? '....
heads turn, and walk away....
a young couple walking the tracks....
going nowhere, hand in hand.
you can smell the vacant buildings,
can hear the glass break
on the boarded up windows.....
has anyone a hand, an eye to eye,
muddy footprints where
life should have been!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Come Away
(g.bowser/j.jupp)
Published by chappell & co., ltd. - capac
As I walk along the lonely streets
I cant talk to the people that I meet
I see them come, and I see them go
I see them smile, and say hello
Come with me and take my hand
Ooh, fly away to another land, oh yes we will
Come with me and take my hand
Well fly away to another land
Come over here little girl
And Ill show you another world
Where we can be free to do as we want
Live our lives as we please, and say what we like, oh
Come with me and take my hand, ooh
Well fly away to another land
Come with me and take my hand, oh
And fly away to another land
Theres so many things that remain to be done
And no one has thought of a way to begin
So follow me into my life
Come with me and take my hand (and take...)
Fly away to another land (fly away to another land)
Come with me and take my hand (ooh)
Fly away to another land (fly away to another land)
Come with me and take my hand (take my hand)
Fly away to another land (oh yes we will)
Come with me and take my hand (and take my hand, take my hand)
Fly away to another land (yeah)
Come with me and take my hand
Fly away to another land
Come with me and take my hand
Fly away to another land
song performed by by April Wine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Praying For Emptiness!
walking barefoot down the streets
of the holy city...
listening to the sounds,
the whimper, the cry, and the roar...
praying for emptiness....
the clock beats in rhythm
with the sidewalks and the walls.
the smell of burnt flesh
hangs in the air....
'Jesus Saves' painted on a fence....
oil rigs and chemical sprays,
fields filled with unmarked graves.
windows broken, doors sway, rusted hinges,
cars abandoned, vacant buildings,
dead bodies, eyes lost stare!
the spirits of the children
sing haunting and low...
words pierce like nails,
the birds hear and weep....
a hand gun, a needle, half pack of smokes....
nobody saves the night from the dawn!
praying for emptiness...
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Dead Man's Rope
A million footsteps, this left foot drags behind my right
But I keep walking, from daybreak 'til the falling night
And as days turn into weeks and years
And years turn into lifetimes
I just keep walking, like I've been walking for a thousand years
Walk away in emptiness, walk away in sorrow,
Walk away from yesterday, walk away tomorrow,
If you're walking to escape, to escape from your affliction
You'd be walking in a great circle, a circle of addiction
Did you ever wonder what you'd been carrying since the world was black?
You see yourself in a looking glass with a tombstone on your back
Walk away in emptiness, walk away in sorrow,
Walk away from yesterday, walk away tomorrow,
Walk away in anger, walk away in pain
Walk away from life itself, walk into the rain
All this wandering has led me to this place
Inside the well of my memory, sweet rain of forgiveness
I'm just hanging here in space
Now I'm suspended between my darkest fears and dearest hope
Yes I've been walking, now I'm hanging from a dead man's rope
With Hell below me, and Heaven in the sky above
I've been walking, I've been walking away from Jesus' love
Walk away in emptiness, walk away in sorrow,
Walk away from yesterday, walk away tomorrow,
Walk away in anger, walk away in pain
Walk away from life itself, walk into the rain
All this wandering has led me to this place
Inside the well of my memory, sweet rain of forgiveness
I'm just hanging here in space
The shadows fall
Around my bed
When the hand of an angel,
The hand of an angel is reaching down above my head
All this wandering has led me to this place
Inside the well of my memory, sweet rain
song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Take My Hand II
Take my hand, and let me lead you through the shadows,
And I will show you friendship
Take my hand, and walk by my side and let us grow together
And let us experience the uncertainties together
Take my hand, and lead me to your heart
and lead me to the enchantment
For, I have taken your hand,
And you have led me from the shadows
And, I have taken your hand,
And dispelled the uncertainties
I have taken your hand,
And my heart welcomes you
So, let us join hands together
And become one in Love ever after
poem by Adelord DuChene
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Bulbs
Im kicking off from centre field
A question of being down for the game
The one shot deal dont matter
And the other ones the same
Oh! my friend I see you
Want you to come through (alright)
And shes standing in the shadows
Where the street lights all turn blue
She leaving for an american (uhuh)
Suitcase in her hand
I said her brothers and her sisters
Are all on atlantic sand
Shes screaming through the alley way
I hear the lonely cry, why cant you?
And her batteries are corroded
And her hundred watt bulb just blew
Lallallal.. alright...huhuhhuh
She used to hang out at miss lucys
Every weekend they would get loose
And it was a straight clear case of
Having taken in too much juice
It was outside, and it was outside
Just the nature of the person
Now all you got to remember
After all, its just show biz
Lallalal...huhuh...lallal
Were just screaming through the alley way
I hear her lonely cry, ah why cant you?
And shes standing in the shadows
Canal street lights all turn blue
And shes standing in the shadows
Where the street lights all turn blue
And shes standing in the shadows
Down where the street lights all turn blue
Hey, hey, yeah
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Gospel, The Dharma, And The Breath
the darkened streets
haunt and whisper,
lights come and go,
eternity breaks the glass.
and right and wrong,
frozen on the ground...
smokestacks, abandoned cars,
vacant buildings ran by rats.
the hungry hand,
the mouth of poverty.
the addict's needle,
the body in the alley.
the woman beaten,
her face blackened and bloody.
the click of the hammer
on an empty chamber.
and the houses beckon,
with lighted rooms
where shadows move in
a most familiar way.
the smell of food,
and the warmth contained...
never quite reaching
the children sleeping
in the back of the car.
the churches gone dark,
no sound, no action.
down the street the bars
light up the night.
at a corner table,
he sits alone with a drink...
and a book he just opened...
he writes with a pen,
sure that no one can see:
we are the gospel,
we are the dharma...
we died on the cross,
we gave up our kingdoms.
we are the healers,
but the killers...
we are the medicine,
and yet the guns.
we are the hand dipped
in the infected wound...
and yet we are the giver
of that very wound...
both the breath of Satan,
and the breath of God!
from our knees we learn
the gift of flight!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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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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I Was Not Born To Follow # 2
i am the nail half-bent,
....tossed to the side,
......rusted by the rain.
the body of the young man shot
...left in the streets,
.....the bullet, and the silence.
the trembling hand that lights the pipe,
....and the anger deep inside.
......the young woman giving birth,
the light that screams for darkness.
...the door latch broken
.....on the vacant house,
and the roar of the empty.
...the waves that break the barricade,
.....leaving dead fish on the sand.
the telegram sent,
...the casket, the flag,
.....the mother's tears unspoken.
the ache, the crucifix, the reaching hand,
......the family left 'neath the bridge;
........the orphaned child, the jobless bum,
i was not born to follow!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Faith II
THROUGH the long night, the deathlong night,
Along the dark and haunted way,
I knew your hidden face was bright--
More bright than any day.
And when the faint, insistent moan
Rose from some weed-grown wayside grave,
I said, 'I do not walk alone;
'Tis easy to be brave.
I never turned to speak with you,
For all the way was dark and long,
But all the shadows' menace through
Your silence was my song.
I never sought to take your hand,
For all the way was long and rough;
I taught my soul to understand
That love was strength enough.
Then, suddenly, the ghosts drew near,
A ghastly, gliding, tomb-white band;
I called aloud for you to hear,
My hand besought your hand.
No voice, no touch--the thin ghosts glide
Where in my dream I dreamed you were--
Night, night, you are not by my side,
You never have been there!
poem by Edith Nesbit
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London nights
Fresh summer evenings, shop windows, fancy dresses,
theatres buzzing with crowds,
coffee aroma from cafe doorways.
It could be the middle of the day in London,
it's a city of magic, a city of the night
as the West End awakes.
Lovers walk hand in hand in brightly lit streets.
bars harbour young dudes bubbling
to find romance or just sex.
I slow the car to watch a crowd gather as they
spot a street performer do his thing
and then I speed away.
If you look into the shadows you'll see tramps,
working girls, wayward teens with knives
and empty eyes.
Alongside the rich walk the poor and needy,
the gap is cavernous, shameful
and as they struggle others thrive.
One hand of black jack at The Sportsman
would buy a meal for them but the profit
all goes on the ‘black', a roll of the dice.
It's not nice but that's London life,
take the good with the bad
and hang on to the light.
poem by Ruth Walters
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Empty Streets
The town is quiet, empty
Street lights cast shadows
In doorways and windows
Curtains drawn, people sleeping
A night rain is falling fast
Through the amber halos of street lights
Lighting the roads and pathways
There is not a soul to be seen or heard
The parked cars line up colourless
The dull reflection of a shop window
Offers little comfort in passing
A stray cat sits ahead in some shade
Staring intent before running away
Into the empty night gone
What little wind there is, cold
A car passes, unknown passengers
The temporary warming light
Soon gone disappeared
Hand fishing for keys in pockets
Through a door into shade
The empty streets replaced
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Shadows On Your Side
Shackled and raised for a shining crowd,
They want you to speak but the music is louder than -
All of their roar, with the heat of the planets core, but..
The shadows are on your side,
As soon as the lights go down.
In the darkest place you can find,
You belong to the hands of the night..
Promises made with a distant friend
Truth should be known it can only bend -
To a tune of its own, hey youll never hear that voice again.
Scandal in white on a tangled vine
With everybody to say that youre having the time of your life -
When your life is on the slide, but..
(chorus) (chorus)
-
(oh-ohh...oh-oh-oh)
(oh-ohh...oh-oh-oh)
Spinning a compass to choose your way
You can run, you can dive, you can stand and you can soar..
Whichever way you can be sure, that...
(chorus) (chorus)
Shadows on your side
The shadows are on your side
Shadows on your side
The shadows are on your side
Shadows on your side
The shadows are on your side
Shadows on..
song performed by by Duran Duran
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Room
The windows of my room ache,
from too much silence,
and my mind goes to walk on the blue waters of the pacific,
you and I hand in hand,
Ahhh, how beautiful you still are, in my dream! !
Don't let yourself break my heart,
for it's not mine,
it belongs to someone,
who still not exists…
will not exist,
except in my dream,
where we walk
hand in hand on the blue waters of the pacific.
poem by Sarang Mangi
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Half Drunk In Jesus Town
church bells ringing
down by the mission
walking these streets again
down by the old feed store,
and the row of empty buildings,
listening to the ghosts of the past.
the railroad tracks stand silent,
that old train dont run anymore.
here and there people walking,
aint nobody talking,
stray dogs and broken bottles,
stopped to light one last cigarette.
i can still hear my mother calling,
can still see my daddy's tired eyes,
can still hear the preacher, and
them old songs
but you cant take me down
to the water anymore.
old signs falling in the wind
take one last draw from the bottle
cant bring back what you never had
half drunk in Jesus town.
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Two Veterans
Side by side near the road they stand
Like grave old men grown wise with years,
Veterans twain in this forest land,
Marching together, hand to hand,
Sober as ancient seers.
Gnarled and bitten and scarred and bent,
Sap run sluggish and youth all spent,
They lift spare limbs to the heartening sky,
World-worn and weary, yet loth to die.
They had known the bite of the blunt stone axe
(Wounds like warrior's long healed scars)
When they hid the quarry of hunting blacks,
Ranging the forest with eyes on the tracks
That led to these lusty spare
Spars grown old ere the spoilers came
To give this forest to blade and flame;
Too old to profit that ruthless greed
Which their likelier kinsmen went to feed.
For eight score summers the winds that blow
Down thro' the forest have worked their will;
For eight score winters storm and snow,
Frost and fury have bowed them low;
Yet stand the veterans still,
By the side of the road where the cars run down
With their transient freights to the mushroom town;
And they lift spare limbs to the deathless sky,
World-worn and weary, yet loth to die.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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The Hand
only the human hand,
the caring hand,
the hand covered in blood
and filth, the hand swollen
bruised, and beaten...
the open hand,
not a fist anymore hand,
not afraid to let go hand,
never letting go hand...
feed the baby, plow the field hand,
stroke the face of
the old woman dying hand...
light the fires, sweep the floors hand...
the praying hand, the picking hand,
the paint the soul hand...
only the human hand
can touch with the heart of God!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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My Other Hand...
the black man's hand,
the poor man's hand.
the Muslim hand, the Jewish hand...
the gay man's hand,
the working man's hand,
the ex-convict's hand,
the farmer's hand, the garbage man's hand...
the Christian's hand, the atheist's hand,
the father's hand, the soldier's hand,
the peacemaker's hand,
the healer's hand, the teacher's hand,
the prodigal's hand, even the murderer's hand...
the victim's hand, the broken hand,
the praying hand, the touching hand...
all, when extended,
feel like my other hand!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Who Will It Be
Who will take care of you when you get older
When you are walking down life’s road
Who will be there, with love and also care
When you, yourself are old.
Who will hold your hand and walk with you
When you are walking down life’s road
Who will be at your side, to be your guide
Who, but only you will know.
Who will carry you if you become to tired to walk
When you are walking down life’s road
Who will carry your weight, and wont hesitate
Who could be that proud and bold.
Who will stay at your side and will not leave you
When you are walking down life’s road
Who will wipe away your tear, and soothe your fear
Who will comfort your mind and soul.
Who will be there with you till the very end
When you are walking down life’s road
When you see the mistakes, that you did make
When your life unto you will unfold.
Who will be there to tell you goodbye
When your journey ends on life’s road
When you take those steps, with sadness and regret
Who will be the one with love to show.
poem by Randy McClave
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Hand-Me-Down!
got my hand-me-down boots,
and my hand-me-down jeans.
my broke down hand-me-down hat,
doing hand-me-down things.
my hand-me-down fire,
and my hand-me-down pot.
take a hand-me-down chair,
i'll share what i've got.
got some hand-me-down thoughts,
a couple of hand-me-down songs.
i've got a hand-me-down heart
that wont leave you alone.
we'll talk about hand-me-down freedom,
and hand-me-down truth....
in this hand-me-down world,
it's just me and you!
in this hand-me-down world....
paying hand-me-down dues!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Then There Was You!
clouds hanging, frozen still,
banging the tool shed door.
sunlight colors the morning
with a hundred things to do.
cars speed by going nowhere,
the railroad tracks are empty.
the old store building creaks,
the windows boarded over.
the ghosts of small town heroes
going to and fro unseen.
a different world, a different me,
and then there was you!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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