Stillness Wrapped, Unwrapped!
stillness wrapped...
layers and layers of sound,
sound defined by color, sweat,
stink, breath, and desire...
i walk the great plains of night,
the hunter, and the hunted.
i kneel in the shadow of a star,
giving praise to the Great Mother!
i am wings of bat,
the eyes of the great owl.
i am wolf urine on the grasses.
i am bark and bay and howl.
i am the flute of the whipporwill,
the shallow breathing of the mountain aroused.
the small black boy in Mississippi past,
staring hard at the walls of angry cant.
i am the political prisoner,
the religious heretic.
i am the murderer repentent,
the one who kills him.
i am the quiet drunk
alone at the corner table.
the book hidden in in coat
that cant stop the bullet.
i am the old woman hungry
for a lovers touch...
i am the touch, the memory,
the coming and breaking.
i am the prodigal, the refugee,
the starving girl who gives
her last piece of bread
to her younger brother.
i am the stray dog, the abandoned house,
the fire, and the homeless man who died.
i am the grave, the gravedigger,
the preacher, and the epitaph....
i am nothing now....
but stillness unwarpped by time...
sound, color, sweat, stink,
breath, and desire....
ashes, and unplowed earth!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Do You Even (Know My Name)
for your strong scent of love,
and the dew of your wetness...
your lips that color the night sky
in deep layers of black...
your animal spirit running
through fields in the moonlight...
the taste of your flesh,
your blood on my chin...
the howl and the hoot,
and then the great stillness...
the earth shakes and tremors,
great waves rise from the sea...
and the wind itself lonesome,
fumbles with the latch to your door..
the snow fast approaching,
the last fire fed by you!
can you hear me calling?
the whisper, the moan?
or am i only an old train,
running empty on tracks leading nowhere?
do you even know my name?
the tracks beneath your eyes,
be they tears, or my coming...
gone in an instant,
fire leaves nothing to remember!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Gasping For Light
1
i built a fire in the yard.
slowly walked back into the house.
gathering everything of value.
my books, my clothes, my boots,
old photographs, letters, pictures,
everything i've ever written.
every memory.
took them outside,
and fed them to the fire!
and walked off barefoot
into the night.
2
lover, dance with me!
we call unto each other
from distances, through barriers,
breaking down walls of seperation;
through tears and angry silence,
echoing through the night.
i kiss your eyes, your lips,
the arch of your neck.
your fingertips, your feet,
the inside of your thighs.
your wetness.
you open your eyes,
and the shadow disappears!
3
spirits dance in the moonlight!
a soft wind rustles
through the trees.
the howl of a dog,
car lights on a forgotten road;
a screen door closes softly.
old house wrapped in stillness.
only a faint sound.
the footsteps of God
walking in your heart!
4
i can smell your perfume,
or maybe the scent of rain coming.
i can taste you in the
cool damp earth,
in the blood of a small animal
killed by a passing car,
in the cry of the baby
waking up hungry,
in the web of the spider.
in the hollow of my soul.
5
two moths lost in the darkness,
gasping for light.
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Follow (I Am The Flute)
i follow...
the hoot of the owl,
the smoke that leads
to the fire.
the hollow of the hand,
to the hard and the soft.
the salt of the sea
to the dark and murky unknown.
the erection and the breast,
to the womb that creates.
lightning to the thunder,
and thunder to lightning.
the hammer to the nail,
the bullet through the barrel.
the spirit through the book,
back to the tree in the forest.
the body to the grave,
the universe back to dust.
i follow...
the sound of the flute,
till i come to see...
that i follow nothing,
and no one at all!
for i am the path,
and the feet that walk.
i am the flute,
the sound and the lips.
i am the breath,
the desire, and the vision...
for i am no one,
and nothing at all!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Sounds, Within And Without
have you ever listened
to the sounds of
a young boy praying
after his father and mother
have split up
have you heard the sound
a small animal makes when
it's hit by a car?
kinda like the sound a child makes
when it's split open by friendly fire!
have you felt the deep down
sound the young boy makes
when the judge sentences him
to hard time
the sound you cant see on his face
have you heard the sound
of the old man's heart
fighting to hold on
in an empty room
with the curtains pulled
have you ever heard the sound
of the wolf's howl, and
the hawk's scree
buried deep beneath
the layers that cover
your own wildness
are you listening
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Hungry Like The Wolf
(ha ha!)
Dark in the city, night is a wire
Steam in the subway, earth is a fire
Do-do do do, do do do, do do do, do do do, do do
Woman you want me, give me a sign
And catch my breathing even closer behind
Do-do do do, do do do, do do do, do do do, do do
In touch with the ground
Im on the hunt Im after you
Smell like I sound, Im lost in a crowd
And Im hungry like the wolf
Straddle the line, in discord and rhyme
Im on the hunt Im after you
Mouth is alive with juices like wine
And Im hungry like the wolf
Stalked in the forest, too close to hide
Ill be upon you by the moonlight side
Do-do do do, do do do, do do do, do do do, do do
High blood drumming ony our skin its so tight
You feel my heart, Im just a moment behind
Do-do do do, do do do, do do do, do do do, do do
In touch with the ground
Im on the hunt Im after you
Scent and a sound, Im lost and Im found
And Im hungry like the wolf
Strut on a line, its discord and rhyme
I howl and I whine Im after you
Mouth is alive all running inside
And Im hungry like the wolf
-
(hungry like the wolf
Hungry like the wolf
Hungry like the wolf)
Burning the ground I break from the crowd
Im on the hunt Im after you
I smell like I sound, Im lost and Im found
And Im hungry like the wolf
Strut on a line, its discord and rhyme
Im on the hunt Im after you
Mouth is alive with juices like wine
And Im hungry like the wolf
Burning the ground I break from the crowd
Im on the hunt Im after you
Scent and a sound, Im lost and Im found
And Im hungry like the wolf
Strut on a line, its discord and rhyme
I howl and I whine Im after you
Mouth is alive all running inside
And Im hungry like the wolf...
song performed by by Duran Duran
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Life Erupting...
i walk the hymn of life erupting,
the urine prayers, the sweat, the pus.
the gutteral cry of need evolving,
the phlegm of god, the bodies rotting.
the snow wiped faces
and the naked earth.
in constant rhythm with hunger's howl,
the candle flame, the silenced tongue.
the whisper shake, of shadows wanting,
nails, blocks, and colored glass.
the crippled dance,
and the distant drums.
who am i? i am you!
the second son of an unknown father.
born in an alley neath a starless sky,
my feet stink of human,
my eyes lit with desire...
talk to me when words are done!
the wet birthed babe,
the hot blood of giving.
the life caved in,
the searh for nipple.
the whiskey breath,
the cigarette memory,
the love torn chest,
the beak plucked heart.
the identity of the unknown soldier
who died in the ashes, unheard, unseen.
the hands that built with determined faith,
with common trust and common hope...
the weeping beneath the silence,
the silence beyond the grave....
talk to me when words are done!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My God Walks
my god walks naked in the stillness...
her long hair falling in the moonlight.
her bare feet touching the earth,
her lips wet with the dew.
her breasts heave with the coming
and going of the waves...
her eyes shine like lanterns,
her breath bathes the trees...
and in her softness small animals take refuge...
in her growl change is born...
in her desire time is renewed.
and she sings the hymn of dialogue,
and touching, always touching....
she bends down to me and whispers
her hidden name...
while spiders and turtles begin
the work of redemption...
wolves howl, and mountains breathe...
my god takes the hand of the hungry child,
and walks past the point of distance!
while i follow the sound of my own heart,
to the point of nearness!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sounds that should not be missed
Sound of blossom of a flower,
I desire to hear,
the sound of nature.
Sound of rain's glassy water drop,
over a roof's top,
the sound of joy.
Sound of beat of our heart,
through our ears caught,
the sound of wonder.
Sound of delicious supper in boil,
after a great day's toil,
the sound of hunger.
Sound of a mother's loving ballad,
hearing the cry of her toddler,
the sound of love! ! !
poem by Shyam Balaji
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Gravedigger
Cyrus Jones 1810 to 1913,
Cyrus Jones 1810 to 1913
Made his great grandchildren believe you could live to 100 and 3
Made his great grandchildren believe
A 100 and 3, is forever when you're just a little kid so
You could live to a hundred and three
Cyrus Jones lived forever
A hundred and three is forever when you're just a little kid
So Cyrus Jones lived forever
Gravedigger
When you dig my grave
Gravedigger
Could you make it shallow
When you dig my grave
So that I can feel the rain
Could you make it shallow
Gravedigger
So that I can feel the rain
Gravedigger
Muriel Stonewall 1903 to 1954,
She lost both of her babies in the second great war,
Muriel Stonewall
Now you should never have to watch as your only children are lowered into the ground
1903 to 1954
I mean
She lost both of her babies in the second great war
Never have to bury your own babies
Now you should never have to watch
Your only children lowered in the ground
Gravedigger
I mean you should never have to bury your own babies
When you dig my grave
Could you make it shallow
Gravedigger
So that I can feel the rain
When you dig my grave
Gravedigger
Could you make it shallow
So that I can feel the rain
Ring around the Rosy
Gravedigger
Pocket full of posies
Ashes to ashes
Ring around the rosey
We all fall down
Pocket full of posey
Ashes to ashes
Gravedigger
We all fall down
When you dig my grave
Could you make it shallow
Gravedigger
So that I can feel the rain
When you dig my grave
Oh Gravedigger
Could you make it shallow
So that I can feel the rain
Little Mikey Carsons, 67 to 75
Gravedigger
He rode his bike like the devil until the day he died
When he grows up he wants to be Mr. Vertigo on the flying trapeze
Little Mikey Carson 67 to 75
Oh, 1940 to 1992
He rode his
Bike like the devil until the day he died
Gravedigger
When he grows up he wants to be Mr. Vertigo on the flying trapeze
When you dig my grave
Ohhh, 1940 to 1992
Could you make it shallow
So that I can feel the rain
Gravedigger
Oh, Gravedigger
When you dig my grave
Could you make it shallow
When you dig my grave
So that I can feel the rain
Could you make it shallow
So that I can feel the rain
Gravedigger
I can feel the rain
When you dig my grave
I can feel the rain
Could you make it shallow
Gravedigger
So that I can feel the rain
When you dig my grave
Feel the rain
Could you make it shallow
I can feel the rain
So that I can feel the rain
Gravedigger
Gravedigger
Gravedigger
Gravedigger
song performed by by Dave Matthews Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Desire
From the very first rush
To the very last sigh
In a moments touch
To the whole of time
Be the secrets of pain
Kiss the tears that you cry
Just to hold without
Get to touch within
From the sound of your breath
To the taste of your skin
Id give all my days
Just for one of your nights
Ive just got to get next to you
Let it out, let it go
Chorus:
Desire, make it physical
Looks to feed the thrill
Desire, with its hungry eyes
Closing for the kill
Desire, all thats left in me
Tears the night in two
Desire, like a primitive
Claw my way to you
Are you thinking of me
Like Im thinking of you?
How the innocence dies
In a passionate stare
A shaft of light
A silent dare
The call of the wild...
From the very first crime
Of original sin
To the carnal lie
Where the truth begins
Just to feel your nails
Lift me up like wings
Ive just got to get next to you
Let it out, let it go
Chorus
song performed by by Asia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hungry Like The Wolf
Down in the city, night is alive
Steam in the subway, earth is afire
Do do do do do do
Woman you want me, give me a sign
You check my breathing
Im just a moment behind
Do do do do do do
In touch with the ground
Im on the hunt Im after you
Smell like I sound
Lost and Im found
And Im hungry like a wolf
Night is a live earth is afire
Im on the hunt Im after you
Smell like I sound lost and Im found
And Im hungry like a wolf
song performed by by Hole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Am.... (Hand Of Silence)
i am the fire raging out of control,
the blade of the shadow on poverty's neck.
the broken sound when no one can hear,
the cold feel of the gallows,
the wings of the dead bird.
i am the raccoon trapped,
and the fury of loss.
i am the waiting that kills,
moment by moment.
i am the hand too tired to touch,
the baby just born that no one wants.
i am the ribs showing on the starving child,
the refugee fleeing with nowhere to go.
the smell of despair at the county dump,
the apartment without curtains or furniture.
i am the soldier killed who hesitated with conscience.
i am the prisoner afraid of both detention and freedom.
the young gay teenager who hangs himself,
the pregnant girl who takes too many pills.
i am the protester beaten and left on the sidewalk,
the old man alone without food or heat.
i am the touch of Jesus in the addict's eyes,
the street bum sleeping in the alley.
i am the farmer whose farm was taken,
the family left without a home.
the 40 year worker in the unemployment line,
the young girl taken and sold as a whore.
i am the Buddhist monk who sets himself on fire,
the rebel imprisoned for speaking the truth.
i am the millions of young who cant afford school,
the millions of workers who cant afford insurance.
i am the immigrant deported,
whose family has no chance.
the young mother caught stealing food.
i am the morals hidden by despair and anger,
the conscience of the poor holding the gun.
i am the color of skin covered with blood,
the face of god in strays of all kinds.
i am the Buddha weeping,
the body of suffering....
the hand of silence covering the grave.
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lover, Come To Me!
lover, come to me!
i am the wind,
the sound, and the fury.
the small patches of fur,
left in the ditch.
the stained sheet,
the crack in the window.
i am the barking of dogs,
the song of cicadas...
i am the broken plow,
the hammer laid aside.
the bucket full of rainwater,
the tree bent by the storm.
i am the bodies of the innocents,
the nightmares of the guilty...
the stink of blood
dried by the sun...
the wagonload of melons,
the tornado swept roof.
i am the small shop,
where things are built by hand.
lover, come to me!
the oceans rage...
mountains are shaken,
the night has no end.
the sweat of desire,
covers my nakedness.
i am invisible.
i am the ghost
whose body you feel!
i am the madness
that your stillness defines...
lover, come to me!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Holiness Stripped Naked!
the stink, homeless man,
five days same clothes,
no way to bathe...
vomit crusted hunger,
piss, and garbage rolled.....
the perfume of God.
angry, bruised, scared,
face hollow, lips tremble....
love's fists, used, abused,
she walks the corner, alone....
the daughter of God.
crack pipe, stolen gun,
fear rush, dead despair,
concrete jungle, wrong color,
wrong place, wrong time,
prison bound, unmarked grave,
mother cries, justice lies....
the son of God.
stolen tent, hard rain,
under the bridge, under scope,
no work, no food, babies cry,
mothers tears, hard stare,
small fire, past the edge,
old car, out of gas....
the family of God.
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Morning Refuge Prayer
i take refuge in the Buddha
who shows us the path.
i take refuge in the Dharma
that teaches us to walk in compassion.
i take refuge in the Sangha
the family of living beings working together for peace.
i take refuge in Jesus
in the way that He lived and died.
in the Kingdom of Heaven within us
that heals the sick and feeds the hungry.
i take refuge in the Tao
in the uncarved block.
in water flowing over rocks
finding its own way.
i take refuge in the Great Spirit
in the embrace of Mother Earth.
i take refuge in the wind and rain
in the thunder and lightning,
in the stillness of night.
i take refuge in the howl of the wolf,
in the eyes of small children.
in the truth that breaks down the wall
between living and existing, between sorrow and joy.
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Tis Breath, Then.... (Part Two)
tis breath, then...
(and still spirits dormant in the night,
leaf, stone, branch, river...
forgotten ants, snails, and crickets,
spiders with infinite webs.
the wolf's howl in waiting,
the owl perfectly still.
worms working silence,
the wings of small birds...
waiting, waiting, waiting...)
tis breath, then...
carrying the plague of war,
deep into the ignorance.
walls built of fear,
and the hunger that devours.
draining color, caged, and panting...
breath crying out for breath,
sorrow unto sorrow...
but tis breath, then...
that forming tongues of soul and spirit,
that falling like passion scented rain,
binds darkness unto darkness,
holding sound in echo's palm.
that rises to the fall,
and falls to the rising.
swallows distance with intimate longing...
calling forth stars and moonlight!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lone Traveler
Lone howl under the great blue night sky
A pack of wolves running through the forest
Chasing down crying little rabbit looking for a hole
Doesn’t know that every damn hole is full of corns
Lone howl under the great blue night sky
The moon shines like there is no other night
To make the curve she had to follow the relenting howl
As time runs in circle, the night goes faster than before
Lone howl under the great blue night sky
A child walks down the street of the city of angels
Knows no bond to depend on, no rope to hang on
He raised his hand for a dime, he’s only got reservation in heaven
Can you catch the notes floating with the sound
Within the cold air that freezes your bones and brain
With the snow that falls like storm,
And nothing but the white emptiness before your soul
And I’m walking with my bare two feet, listening carefully
To the sound of cars driving on the streets at night
To the sound of babies crying out their heart
To the sound of waves washing the shore, the sound of loneliness
To the sound of traveling stars, the sound of the universe
poem by Alexander Foald
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Great Mother
Great Mother...
ecstasy dance;
inside the fur of the wolf,
the wings of the hawk
small ants on infinite journeys,
turtles moving to earth time.
water wrapping around rocks,
old tree leaning with time.
blood, sweat, passion's fluids,
the pulse of a cold mountain.
thunder and lightning, clouds hang,
the taste of flesh lingers...
naked by the fire, shadows
on the walls of the cave....
chanting, humming, praying....
with hands bruised and grateful.
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Your Lips Taste Like
your lips taste like
my heart wrapped in brown paper,
and left out in the rain....
the cloud that drifts by taunting,
the old dog dying in the field.
the rose just before it opens,
the blood surging from the bullet wound.
the bottom of the bridge
the homeless sleep under...
a falling star, a leaf blown by the wind.
the hungry child's whimper,
the howl of the wolves.
the desire of the turtle,
a flat tire on a deserted road.
the surge of the ocean,
and the pulse of the mountain.
like a postage stamp
from a faraway shore...
like the little girl's hands
opening the door of the cage,
and the sound the feathers make,
the light glinting on her tears.
and the soft underside
of my own heart!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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