Eric Cockrell Poems

we run towards the fire,
falling stars, sucking up the darkness.
what we want, what we need,
what we believe, who we are!
...

the poet burns, and burns, and burns...
warm your feet, cook your meal,
read by this light...
tell the ones you love
...

i hear the cry of the hawk and the rabbit,
i feel the talons tearing flesh.
i smell gunpowder, and bodies burning,
i hear the sound of boots on the road.
...

on the road to Gethsemane...
i pass burned out buildings,
farm lands scorched by the bombing.
i pass the skeleton bodies
...

there are people dying everywhere,
do you care? do you care?
there are people hungry everywhere,
do you care? do you care?
...

chained face down,
spread-eagled,
to the floor of the van...
...

at the end of the day,
i dont want anything more
than the respect i've earned,
shared compassionate action,
...

you said:
old men smell like nuts,
and greying tree limbs...
wet ashes after the rain...
...

words have tiny bodies,
some young, some aged beyond thought.
words carry swords and plant tears,
words form tiny lamps in darkness.
...

black thunder/ broken pieces, tired eyes.
church bells silent ringing, crow feet scarred pillows.
small children walking, without tongues praying,
wagon wheels bogged down in sand.
...