Waiting... Waiting... Waiting!

i have travelled a thousand miles,
and crossed endless seas....
leaped chasms across rooms,
and named endless falling stars.
burned every candle down,
and crucified every desire...
waiting... waiting... waiting!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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Redeem, Or Condemn?

the young man
whose face you beat in
for standing up to protest
against your oppression...
just spat blood on the floors
of your halls of justice...

His name is Jesus...
will His blood redeem you,
or condemn you?

poem by Eric Cockrell
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New Day (Prayer)

let your dreams be breath,
let your breath be shared!
let your heart be a river,
that fills chasms and bends.
let your feet be wind,
that follows your heart.
let your words be tears,
let your actions be gifts!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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Respect!

respect...
for all sacred traditions,
for every political viewpoint,
for every color of skin...

for every walk of life,
for sexual orientation...
respect equal for male and female....
respect for respect given!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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Simple Shells

simple shells,
formed by time,
and experience....

once carried by life,
now left behind,
a gift? or just memory...

echoing the sound
of waves pounding
some far off shore....

waiting for the hands
of a child!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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Ego/Soul

the ego spurts
onto fresh laid sheets,
pounds its chest and shouts,
'i have left my mark! '
yet the soul laughs quietly,
shakes the dust from its feet...
and turns with a grin,
knowing well the banter of fools!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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It Is Wrong!

the fact that hate groups
still exist in the 21st century
is an abomination!
whether under the guise
of political extremists,
terrorists, moral hardliners,
or religious fanatics....

IT IS WRONG!

stop the hate!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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Letting Go

letting go...
of the woman
i have loved...
of the woman
i think she is,
that i dream she is...
that i wanted
her to be...

loving her enough
to let her be
the woman that she is...

and accept her for
who she is...

poem by Eric Cockrell
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The Boots...

the boots of modern America,
are made of black skin, Native American skin,
poor white trash skin, migrant worker skin,
unemployed skin, homeless skin,
prisoner poverty street skin....
who will they walk on next?

poem by Eric Cockrell
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One Of Them Be Mine!

nothing but a camel,
carrying gifts from afar.....
nothing but the night,
the longing and the star.
nothing but a hundred faces,
and all of them divine...
nothing but the voices of love,
and one of them be mine!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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