Eric Cockrell Poems

do you know what love is?
reading Rilke to each other
naked in bed....
...

wagon wheel turning
in the dirt... the spokes
and the hub are what
...

freedom
gnawing
at my
gut...
...

he's just an old man...
working behind the counter
of his own small store
for forty years...
...

that which we judge
in others are usually
the reflections
...

if i have
to sell my soul
to the devil
to watch you dance...
...

'always going, never arriving.'
i've thought about this one
for a while
and i think there's another step!
...

i don’t do hate
i don’t judge
i don’t give answers
to questions i cant answer
...

a world full of
Chernobyls...
one big nuclear garden...
...

they call it getting older,
i call it rust!
or maybe autumn leaves,
and the promise of snow.
...