Eric Cockrell Poems

i keep looking for you
somewhere behind your face,
where the signs of life
...

till the land, till the land,
plant the seeds, pray for rain.
feed your cows and your pigs,
always stop to give thanks.
...

we light the flame,
and carry the torch;
protecting the fire
...

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

faded lines, greying hair,
life spillt from a cup.
even stars fall down,
nothing ever falls up!
...

black man, white man,
ground beneath their feet.
families carrying guns and Bibles,
living on the street.
...

the surgeon's hand,
the painter's brush.
the carpenter's hammer,
the hungry touch.
...

the guillotine stands
alone in the square,
the pinnacle of pulse....
...

just poor folks,
living in an old house,
sleeping in a corner
...

why do we fear death?
our fear of death is based
in our fear of living, or more,
our fear of not having lived!
...