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Poems By Poet Eric Cockrell  11/27/2014 12:09:34 PM
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The Shadow Inside My Shadow

poverty is not my cousin,
is not my lover,
is not my preacher,
poverty is not my brother.

poverty is not my prayer,
or the song that i sing
is not my answer
poverty is not my dream.

poverty is not my teacher,
not the hand that i hold.
poverty is not my anger,
not my spirit, not my soul.

ah! but this poverty is real
it races thru my mind
crashes into my heart,
& leaves me deaf and blind.

poverty is my companion.
the aching cold inside my hollow.
the blow behind my eyes,
poverty is the shadow
inside my shadow.
Eric Cockrell



How Do We Deal With Prejudice?

even those of us who've worked very hard
at not being prejudiced, have some type of
prejudice remaining. for example:
it could be prejudice by color, over religion,
over political views, concerning sexual orient-
ation.... prejudice against those who have money,
or those who dont! ...etc.
all prejudice is wrong by nature, most of it grounded
in the 'self'... in our own irrational fears, and our
stubborn streak of ignorance....
it's always taught, but doesnt have to be allowed!
it ofen hides under the banner of morality, or the
flags of patriotism...
we battle prejudice by being open minded, being
willing to listen, and learning to see ourselves
in other people...
if we say we have no prejudices, we have lost,
and prejudice has us bound.
if we admit our prejudices, name them, look at
them with naked eyes and resolve, then we're making
prejudice in the end is humanity failing to be human!
being human is a 24 hour a day,7 days a week job!
Eric Cockrell



On Human Sexuality...

we understand very little about sexuality...
buying and selling cheap versions of the
fire on a day to day basis...
sex is not a phone call, a text message,
or the culmination of a night on the town...
we confuse masturbation with communication...
intimacy demands honest heart to heart
conversation... companionship... and a shared
to touch in the deepest manner we have to
know who we are.... we touch with both
our darkness and our light....
this touch is the gift of giving... unrestrained,
sensual, gentle, and borne of peace.
the act of joining... a thousand tiny deaths,
bringing forth new life!
Eric Cockrell



Families Falling Apart, Together

families falling apart,
jobs lost, houses lost...

pooling what little
they have left...
just holding on.

no insurance,
mailbox money,
food stamps, and

whatever they can scuff.
travelling in beat up old cars,
or walking... nowhere to go.

same clothes they wore yesterday,
and the day before...
the youngest daughter's pregnant,

again... but hell,
they're passing out cheese
and potatoes at the church....

Jesus died for their sins,
but no one else knows their names!
Eric Cockrell

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Poems By Poet Eric Cockrell