Scars (On The Face)
ecstasy...
the window broken
by moonlight.
the bastard star,
that licks the wound.
the fire that burns flesh,
and opens the casket.
the hammer
that breaks the shell.
love sap spilled
on a forbidden book.
the history of mankind,
written in charcoal.
the tears of the prisoner,
set free, drunk on freedom.
the garlic lips,
that tempt the hunger.
the hunger's howl,
and the silence of the wolf.
the lover's tongue
on the beating heart.
smoke rising from the fire...
scars on the face of the wind!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Stars That Waited To Fall
whose heart lies broken,
in tiny pieces reflecting even
the faintest hint of light?
whose soul is bruised,
whose lips are scarred?
whose tears fall,
like thunder in a cementary?
whose silence burns,
in the bitter cold?
whose breath hanging,
like clouds in the sunset?
whose hunger sharpens,
the web and the cave?
whose longing, whose storms,
whose desire that howls?
whose life hanging,
and who carried the cross?
who are we if not lovers,
if not dreamers who dream.
if not the gentleness of the hand,
and the fire of the tongue?
who are we if not history,
if not tomorrow and yesterday?
who are we if not the given,
stars that waited to fall?
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Fire of Freedom
Charcoal fire upon the shore recalls
that fire behind closed door, of love
betrayed; the fire of bitter courtyard,
preyed into heart that wished so much
to love, but could not find a way, to shove
fear out, and claim the right, to stand secure
and not demure, to sad and threatening taunts.
Charcoal fire upon the shore, that opens
now a brand new door, for love to capture
heart, and re-found life, to break the mold,
that captive hold, that cuts like knife through
all desire, to be what once we were, when we
knew not the One whose love our love reclaims,
who stands now free, of all death’s chains.
O blessed fire of Easter joy that burns
into the night of darkness, with new and
wondrous light, that warms the damp and
dreary path of sadness, bringing gladness and
new sight. For even though we sometimes doubt,
we know that life has conquered death in victory
shout, that burns the earth with fire of new life.
poem by Midifo Yearns
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Pages in the Book
in the midnite hour 'neath the street lamp shadows,
where lifetimes come and go, and salvation follows.
and the heart stripped bare has no need to lie...
the taste of your lips, the tears that i cant cry.
with beaten hands and swords into plows;
giving all that i am, more than i can do without.
i'd trade eternity for one moment by your side...
with your hand in mine and nothing left to hide.
making love in the dirt by the cementary stones,
the yip of the dogs while the wind howls and moans.
your fingers dig into my back, i dive into your soul...
where fire was discovered, spinning out of control.
you close the book, turn the page, walk out the door,
call it all a lie, say you dont love me anymore.
the scars of passion in the shadows 'neath your eyes...
hymns of hope and redemption where the sparrow flies.
pour me a drink, light a smoke, my hat and my heart,
looking for your image in the hunger of the dark.
truth and freedom and justice dissolve into dust...
struck blind and deaf, my soul turned to rust.
down the road past the house where nobody lives.
where love looks in a mirror, repents and forgives.
every moment wasted, every word unspoken turns...
the heart beats faster, but the fire slowly burns.
kiss my lips and bury me down by the willow tree.
take this weight from my heart, set my spirit free.
in the eyes of God and time you are my destiny...
i'm nothing but a river that flows into your sea.
say no prayers, now the time of praying is past.
what's last is now first, what's first is now last...
the song of the poet dies with a fatal look...
all that we are now... pages in the book.
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Embrace!
body bruised,
burning in the fire
that consumes and names!
living by hunger,
fed my memory...
and the scent of something
from that faraway shore!
stories written in ashes,
the crackle and the smoke...
winter, and stillness.
but the light still burns,
the room stark and empty!
hand extended,
naked, unashamed!
calling forth the lover
dressed in flesh and touch!
breathe on me!
softly blow the ashes....
still fire beneath...
waiting for embrace!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Written In Human Blood
i heard you crying...
i dont know your name....
i can almost see your face,
can feel the warmth of your tears.
i felt your hunger,
twisting at my gut,
sharpening my stony glance,
and the set of my jaw.
i was driven by your lostness,
walking forever going nowhere.
with no beginning and no end,
no country, and no home.
i was angered by your scars,
could name each and every bruise.
i walked inside your chains,
in the darkness of the fog....
yet i found that still small light,
the fire that cannot be quenched.
the book of freedom in your soul....
written in human blood.....
yours, and mine!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Fat Dogs Wear Well Fed Collars
the wolf cannot wear your collar
the wolf cannot eat your slave bread
the wolf feels a free wind on free face
the wolf hears all sounds freedom fed
the wolf must hunt for its piece of meat
the wolf hunts mountains where free rivers meet
the wolf will starve to death as lean winter creeps
the wolf paints landscapes scenes as death inward seeps
the wolf licks not the beast man’s hand wolf never weeps
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Born With The Hunger
Hear the coyote howl
He's found his pray at last
In one moment of weakness
The chase is over so fast
He celebrates his kill
No mercy in his eyes
When you're born with the hunger
The hunger never dies
Midnight is on the prowl
And I hear it call my name
Danger lurks in the shadows
But it's all part of a game
Until I quench this thirst
I will not close these eyes
When you're born with the hunger
The hunger never dies
You and I, we're the same
We both carry this flame
To depths of our souls
Once the fever awakes
We can never escape
It's beyond our control
We're both born with the hunger
Oh with the hunger
Temptation bites your lip
One kiss ignites the fire
So begins the seduction
As we succumb to desire
Your body aches for more
Why are you so surprised
When you're born with the hunger
The hunger never dies
When you're born with the hunger
The hunger - it never dies
Never dies
When you're born with the hunger It never dies
When you're born with the hunger Oh, it never dies
He celebrates the kill
You're born with the hunger
It never dies
song performed by by Cher
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Trembles Your Thoughts
i am the brown skinned lover,
sweat wrapped in shadow.
the window left open,
the latch broken by desire.
i am the turpentine taste
of the dangerous and forbidden.
i am the graveclothes left
by the door to your room.
i am the rabid dog,
howling against the wind.
i am the moment before
the storm tears down the house.
i am hunger sharpened
by the loss and the fury.
i am legs uncrossed,
quivering and damp!
i am love dares the bullet,
and taunts the noose.
i am the shackles broken,
the sinews of deep want!
i am the heart, the tongue,
the fingers, and the plow...
waiting for the moon to light
the field too long untouched!
i am the beard of eros,
and the pipe of beauty.
i hum the song
that trembles your thoughts!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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The Burning Fire
There is something burning in my heart
Spreading like a forest fire
It engulfs my body and my mind
Taking over me it burns me alive
This fire is burning ever so hot
All the time
If I ever try to put the fire out
I know I could not
For my heart is in too deep to be wrought
From its fiery pit which it burns aloft
This fire burns me now
All the time
The fire does not hurt as it burns my flesh
In fact I enjoy it as I burn
For this fire is not fire
But this fire is love
And with love I burn
For the one I love
poem by Alex Fischer
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The Role Of The Flesh When The Mind Breaks Away...
one does not have to condemn the flesh
it too serves some purpose,
when the mind goes beyond our fences
when we cannot take the pressure anymore
there the flesh waits for temporary reliefs
it gives you warmth
the pleasures at hand
when the intellect abandons you
in the middle of your
miseries.
the flesh beats us to a dance of life
like wine it can make us drunk and we become wild
there is that fire in the heart
that the flesh can easily so provide
there is the laughter and the ecstasy
that the flesh only knows
when the storm is over, when the night breaks into dusk
when light comes again in our eyes
the flesh is there beside us
it is there, when the mind breaks
it is patient to all our desires.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Who am I?
who am i?
the man who plowed your garden,
and tended your crops;
who hoed the weeds
in the hot summer sun.
i am the man who cut your wood,
sawed it into stacks,
preparing for the coming winter.
i am the carpenter
who built your home;
with boards of flesh,
and nails made of blood and tears.
i am the infidel
who brought you a holy candle,
and made love to you
while it burned down.
who am I
i am the minstrel in your courtyard
dodging bullets and angry lynch mobs.
i am the soldier you sent to battle,
not expecting him to come home.
i am the doctor of your heart
mixing balms of listening and caring.
i am the wolf that mounts you,
teeth gleeming in the moonlight.
i am the prayer you cant put to words,
and its answer!
who am I?
i am the reflection of your face
in the darkened window.
i am the bridge you walk across
to reach tomorrow...
i am the price of a lifetime,
the cost of passion.
i am the fire that burns,
the pot that boils,
the cup that's filled...
i am the colors,
the stink, the raw taste
of living.
i am the hawk that circles
o'er your freedom...
the hand that opens the door!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Wind makes me just as Fire
The wind makes me feel-
finally free
The stronger it hits my skin-
the more vividly I see
The fire is inside of me
I go outside-
and touch the wind
Hearing cracks and licks-
as if being whipped
I raise my hands-
yearning so much freedom
My eyes shut
Not knowing what it is I've done-
I realize
Watching this fire in black darkness
And behind closed eyes-
I hear the whips-
and see the rage
Fire is angry
It wants just as much freedom as I
And there-
I understand
In a trance-
I watch this as if it were my child
This fire is my strength
Having all the courage and the power to break free
-yet-
My body refuses to let go
To let this 'thing' called strength take over
And this wind-
it shows me
It shows me what I keep
I keep my fire-
I keep my power
Wind makes me realize-
The strength that I keep is as strong as fire
poem by Monique Hillebrecht
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Heart In Pieces
Only you can touch me with your dark eyes
With a look that burns like fire through the lonely night.
Sometimes I run, but I can never hide
From the pieces of my heart that fall like rain from the sky.
When you hear the thunder,
When you hear the sound of a mountain crashing down,
Its just my heart in pieces.
When I feel the hunger,
When Im reaching out with a hundred thousand hands,
Its my heart in pieces.
No one cuts through my soul like you can.
Im naked to the bone beside your empty hand.
I see your face and I remember.
Im a prisoner of your fate,
Im a loser in the race.
When you hear the thunder,
When you hear the sounds of a mountain crashing down,
Its just my heart in pieces.
When I feel the hunger,
When Im reaching out with a hundred thousand hands,
Its my heart in pieces.
I walk the fine line
Between fire and the ice.
The memory lives on.
Theres always something to remind me.
Every teardrop falling
When your voice keeps calling.
[chorus repeats until fade.]
song performed by by Chicago
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Beat, The Heart
lover, soldier,
companion, fit.
fire, branches,
ocean, shell.
breast, thigh,
feet, dreams.
the key, the hand,
the wind, and the echo.
fury, stillness,
wound, medicine.
the tongue, the soul,
the beat, the heart.
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Neverending Love
Chasing your shadow, the senses together,
Four-leafed and clever I come from behind.
Chasing your shadow, I wander in circles,
Youre one in a million, were two of a kind.
Its you that I long for, its you that I hunger,
Oh you are the maker of waves in my mind.
We dance in the moonlight, a run on the wire,
Drawing a fine line, a neverending love.
The fever turns slowly into a fire, drawing a fine line,
A neverending love.
Chasing your shadow, moon and the water,
Field and the reaper, star and the sky.
Chasing your shadow, hammer and heartbeat,
Clay and new concrete, I follow the signs.
Its you that I long for, its you that I hunger,
And you are the maker of waves in my mind.
We dance in the moonlight...
song performed by by Roxette
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Broken Face
I got a broken face
I got a
I got a broken face
Uh-hu, uh-hu, uh-hu, uh-hu, ooo
I got a broken face (3x)
There was this boy who had two
Children with his sisters
They were his daughters
They were his favourite lovers
I got no lips, I got no tongue
Whatever I say is only spit
I got no lips, I got no tongue
I got a broken face, uh-hu, uh-hu
I got a broken face
There was this man who snapped his poke
In little pieces
And then they drilled holes
And then they put em back in there
I got no lips, I got no tongue
Whatever I say is only spit
I got no lips, I got no tongue
I got a broken face
Uh-hu, uh-hu, uh-hu, uh-hu, ooo
I got a broken face
The little thing who does my laundry
Speaks no english
But if you saw her
Youd say isnt she lovely
I got no lips, I got no tongue
Whatever I say is only spit
I got no lips, I got no tongue
song performed by by Pixies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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A Heart On Fire...
A Heart On Fire
Has Faith-Full Flames
It Rises Up
Like A Slave Unchained
A Heart Unlit
Is Not A Match
For A Heart On Fire
Is Hard To Catch
It Soars Bold
Believes Bright Things
A Heart On Fire
Has Halcyon Wings
A Heart On Fire
Burns Up Hate
Damage and Doubts
It Disintegrates
A Heart On Fire
Is A Force Reborn
It Is A HeartStar
It Is A HeartStorm
Hot and Glowing
Passionate and Pure
Fierce In The Fire
Of It’s Own Allure
A Heart On Fire
Has A Love Torchlight
It Blazes Beautifully
With All It’s Might
A Heart On Fire
Beats Any Damp Tears
Beats Hard and Brands
Every Flood-Fears
Pulsates, Compensates
Illuminates
and Every Frozen Feeling
It Incinerates
A Heart On Fire
You Must Not Forsake It
For Once It’s Yours
No One Can Take It
But A Heart On Fire
Must Not Love Relinquish
Or A Heart On Fire
Will Be Extinguished
Written & ©: 10/9/10
By: MoonBee
poem by MoonBee Canady
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Under Whose Moon?
whose lips do you kiss in your sleep?
whose hands upon your breast?
whose voice do you hear
in the shudder of dreams...
whose hot breath upon your neck?
whose wetness feeds your hunger?
whose fire? and who stirs the embers?
whose howl? whose mount?
whose furred claw digging into your flesh?
whose darkness... under whose moon!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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The Fire Of Redemption
i am a dissident,
a fugitive, a renegade,
condemned by apathy as subversive.
i am an individual,
a burning bush,
a fire in the night.
i am a homeless star
in a sky gone black,
the mouth and face of hunger.
i am passion's anger,
and compassion's hands,
i am a man and not a body.
i am a spiritual heretic,
a relic from a time
when the spirit was the cause.
i am a bridge, a pair of shoes,
a jug that holds water.
i am the seeds, the sower,
the rain and the sun.
i am the common dance,
the holy sweat,
i am hard work and erection.
i am the prayer prayed
by the side of the road,
the father's firmness,
and the mother's breasts.
i am sickness and death,
the price of years,
i am simple resurrection.
i am the lover unchained,
the wind that breaks the door,
the rain that falls in the naked night.
i am the voice behind silence,
the shout of the snow.
i am birth and beginning,
i am the fire of redemption!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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