Eric Cockrell


Nameless Selves - Poem by Eric Cockrell

it is only I,
nameless selves,
dissolving, evolving...
appearing, taking form,
only to disappear back
into formless fermentation.

leaving only the stink of living...
the green scent of plants unfolding,
the grey soot linger of poverty,
of countless stones laid,
and trod upon.
blood and sweat and shit and prayers,
the pine walls of eternal casket.

the soured milk of nipple bitter,
the stench of rope,
too close to the flame.
rich red clay worn by infidel boots,
whose fathers were unknown.
the forever clutching odor of death,
cabinets built and never filled.
grease ground into a cast iron skillet...
and they call this time!

dissolving, evolving,
seminal sheets on fallen angels' beds.
cosmos held in a human hand,
taking wing, flying like bats.
a thousand names?
not even god has a name.
only light born within darkness,
reveals identity, staking claim!

Listen to this poem:

Comments about Nameless Selves by Eric Cockrell

  • (5/30/2012 3:27:00 PM)


    A great poem, everytthing as to evolve, not always for the better.
    A fantastic write.
    (Report) Reply

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
Read all 1 comments »



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?



Poem Submitted: Wednesday, May 30, 2012

Poem Edited: Wednesday, May 30, 2012


[Report Error]