Picture On The Mantle....
i am not the picture
on the mantle,
not the old song,
not a fleeting memory.
i am not the name
that parks behind yours,
i am not the rent, the lights,
or the groceries.
i am not the excuse,
the curse, or the lie....
not the name of your fear,
not your morals, or your chains.
i am not the old man
sitting in the chair,
staring blankly out the window.
i am not the grey in your hair,
not the heart grown cold.
i am not the bull in the pasture,
not the magazine by the toilet.
i am not your second choice,
[...] Read more
poem by Eric Cockrell
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Namaste
it is that which makes us human,
the scuffs, bruises, and scars, ...
that makes us eternal.
it is only through suffering,
that we come to understand joy,
a joy that is not limited by
circumstance!
when we learn to let go of the things
that our selfish egos proclaim that
we need... then these things quit
owning us.... it is only then that
we experience freedom!
we build temples, mosques, and churches,
make shrines, write holy books full of rules...
all of these things out of our own fears,
out of our own ignorance.
what is holy is before us, is within us...
the truth is so simple it confounds us!
Jesus and Buddha never asked for religions
[...] Read more
poem by Eric Cockrell
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Warrior's Pledge...
well, i've been to the mountain,
and i've walked through the valleys.
i've stood neath the cross
awaiting my turn.
i've heard the stories of children,
and the stories of old men.
there's not enough difference
for me to discern.
i've been to the battle,
and i've taken it to the streets.
i've been to the place,
where truth and dignity meet.
i've stood naked and alone,
and faced my sins.
i've felt the wrath of god,
known the ignorance of men.
i've worn boots of flesh,
and fought with my hands.
[...] Read more
poem by Eric Cockrell
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Crosses Burning # 2
Native America tragedy,
cant escape the curse of history,
poverty has its remedies,
none of which are good.
crystal meth and crack cocaine,
Devil drives that old train,
cant fix the hole or ease the pain,
and wouldnt if it could...
still the wheel of life
keeps on turning;
in the land of illusions,
crosses burning.
small town heroes falling,
the ghosts of freedom calling,
yet the truth is quite appalling,
pawns in the game.
[...] Read more
poem by Eric Cockrell
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
To Pay The Cost
shall thy heart then remain infusable?
while spiders count bodies
in spun glistening webs,
on nuclear mornings in astral glory...
as the rogue butterfly fellates,
the flower bloomed out of season...
without need for recitation!
nebulous vultures march in severed cadence,
wearing boots sewn of human flesh...
leaving tiny fractures in the soul of god,
be it history or destiny!
you cry for wars in dread of silence,
justice hangs from sterile trees.
the hungry child's eyes blacken the moon,
gravity devours temporary sanity.
the hammered flute burns tainted lips,
leaving crows to take the spoils.
[...] Read more
poem by Eric Cockrell
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Hymn Of The Dead
the talking faces with painted lips,
stand in nobody lines making nobody sounds.
while gunpowder hangs from cobwebbed books,
in which the pages of freedom are unnumbered.
while justice faint as a wisp of smoke,
curls just above the poor man's reach.
houses left empty except for ghosts,
that have neither name nor memory.
righteous indignation with pale white hands,
that tremble as they pour the cup....
ah, but the cup is cracked,
and blood drips to the floor...
in the hallways of indifference.
a newborn son, put a gun in his hand,
castrate his eyes, teach him hatred.
a newborn daughter, put a broom in her hands,
and prepare her for the planting.
you call this America, the shores of liberty,
dark skinned bones ground beneath your feet.
[...] Read more
poem by Eric Cockrell
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Conversations: Angels And Demons (Part Three)
i sat down to talk to a
young gay man the day after
Amendment One passed...
'so, what do you do now? '
'i dont know... dont know whether
i'm more saddened or angry. and
i dont want to be either.'
'why do you think it passed? '
'i dont know if the majority
of people here are afraid of
people like me, or they just
hate me. for what i believe,
for my lifestyle, for whomever
i choose to love...
and the thing is... there's nothing
to be afraid of... i'm a human being
[...] Read more
poem by Eric Cockrell
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
2012, Ending, Or Beginning!
the curtain is drawn,
the memories of another year,
a year of hardship and need,
packed in a box,
stored away to be forgotten.
we stand on the stage,
stripped naked by necessity,
forced to choose...
ending, or beginning?
the end of economic hope,
the end of the environment,
the end of individual rights,
the end of capitalism...
the end of the common man,
the end of morality...
[...] Read more
poem by Eric Cockrell
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Old Girl, A Backwards Dream
he was just sitting there listening, you know...
sitting on the stoop, listening to the old black man
play guitar...
listening to the children playing across the way...
listening to the occasional car, and the way the sunset
clapped against the trees, keeping rhythm.
the old man started singing, low, almost a growl:
'old girl, old girl, where you been so long?
old girl, old girl, where you been so long?
done took the night out of my daytime,
and the darkness out of dawn.
old girl, old girl, why you be that way?
old girl, old girl, why you be that way?
you pack your clothes to travel on,
you dont unpack your clothes to stay...'
he grinned at the old man, 'yeah...'
the smell of streaked meat frying, and coffee
boiling over came from the house...
'how many eggs y'all want? '
the old man started singing again:
[...] Read more
poem by Eric Cockrell
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
American Flag
i've had mixed feelings
about the American flag
ever since they lowered it
for President Kennedy...
it took a beating during
the civil rights movement.
and then there was Vietnam,
all the atrocities, the lies,
the wasted deaths...
the marches, the protests,
the Kent State killings...
and the flag was burned
in anger, and i understood
the anger
and now the corporate takeover,
the loss of human rights,
the loss of dignity, and hope
how many deaths does it take?
JFK, Robert Kennedy, Martin Luther King
forty thousand plus in Vietnam
[...] Read more
poem by Eric Cockrell
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!