Like Me....

i dont see black and white,
i dont see Muslim, and Christian.
i dont see right and left.
i dont see haves, and have nots...
i see hungry mouths,
and starving souls,
and they all look
and smell like me!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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Lone Seagull

a lone seagull
...flying over
.....an empty beach,

the day after
...we paid
.....for our choices.

wondering and thinking
...what could i have done
......to change the final outcome?

one day too late!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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On Whom

what you gonna do?
and what you gonna say?
when the poor, the homeless,

and the hungry....
kick down your door,
and take back the wealth

you got on their backs?
and on whom
will this crime be laid?

poem by Eric Cockrell
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They Listen!

bodhissatva...
old blind dog
walking with me,
side by side,
good day, bad day,
irregardless...
by my side.

dogs talk to you,
soul talking,
unconditional love talking...
and best of all,
they listen!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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Madness #3

hardness and softness,
plunge, and hold back;
darkness without asking,
the sun comes without tracks.

hammer and tongue,
words too real to speak;
at the end of the world,
where time and timeless meet!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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Why We Are Here!

climbing the ladder...
out of the hole,
one hand on the rung above,

one reaching down
to the person below...
of such is life,

its secrets, deeper meaning...
and the whole of the reason
why we are here!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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For A Holy Moment!

i am an old man,
with a book of scriptures,
written in blood,
and an erection,
walking towards eternity,
looking for a holy moment!

a candle willing
to be burned down,
a leaf letting go
of the tree!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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You.....

the book...
on the shelf
for twenty five years!
opened with care,
the musky smell
hangs in the air.
the ink brittle,
yet sharp,
the words like ghosts.
i run my tongue
down the page,
and swallow a life!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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Eternity Borrowed

eternity borrowed,
....when old lovers kiss
......like strangers meeting

for the first time...

rainwater dripping from tin,
...tastes like yesterday forgotten,

as lips
...and tongues,
........explore!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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The Address

we are but
a thousand
tiny deaths
poured into
the vase
that stands
on the table
by the window....

by the bed
in the room
that only
our most
powerful longings
can enter....

the address
known only
by love.

poem by Eric Cockrell
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