Wouldnt It?

wouldnt it be amazing,
if every word we spoke today
were human in content?
if every action we took
were based in compassion?
if every thought we had
were original?
wouldnt it?

poem by Eric Cockrell
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Belligerent Acts!

speaking the truth,
and standing up for
individual rights,

standing up for collective
rights, and for equality...
are not, are not

belligerent acts!
we're not buying the lie!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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God Smells Like...

god smells like the shoes you wore
when you mowed your elderly neighbor's yard...
like your hands when you emptied his bedpan...
like your tears when you stood alone by his grave!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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Old Plow!

i dreamed...
an old plow,
rusted, still sharp...

waiting, waiting
for the hands that till;
at peace in the knowing,

my destiny, my path!
a simple tool
in the garden of life!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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By Not Caring...

who did we kill today...
by our actions, by inaction,
by our thoughts, by our desires?
whose bread did we eat?
whose shelter did we take?
whose hope did we steal
by not caring?

poem by Eric Cockrell
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Passion Dream-3

swinging the axe,
over and over,
cutting the notch...

till that moment
when time is suspended;
creaking and cracking,

the great tree falls!
and the earth
shudders and shakes!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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Kingdom Of Humanity...

there are no borders
to the kingdom of humanity...
no flags, no troops to protect...
no laws but the law of the heart.
no illegal immigrants.
and no religion...
other than kindness!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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Madness #5

a poet, a seer...
a run of the mill hand;
my ship comes to rest
in that far away land.

bereft of all sanity,
i wade into indulgence;
till that distant day,
my final reemergence!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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Take Responsibility

it's time for the
evangelical preachers
to stop shouting:

'God's casting His judgement
upon the earth! '

God's not doing this!
we are!

take responsibility for
your own actions!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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The Urn

ashes spilling
from the urn...
a thousand hollow goodbyes
and hellos dissolve.
it's been said:
death makes all men equal,
so what of life?
and why the tears
o'er an unmarked grave?

poem by Eric Cockrell
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