Eric Cockrell Poems

morning splintered,
justice stinks like the
dried blood on the concrete walls
of an abandoned building.
...

i dont see black and white,
i dont see Muslim, and Christian.
i dont see right and left.
i dont see haves, and have nots...
...

rain swept branches strewn,
small testaments of living.
frail egos broken
in morning sunlit pieces.
...

what we look for is something deeper
than what we call love... if love is
the taste, we long for the substance.
we run afraid of the dark towards the
...

we who would liberate,
must first feel the
hungry cry of freedom.
must feel the homeless
...

do you know what
will really change the world?
when we learn how to listen...
not just with our ears,
...

I am...
a child of the wind!
where it goes, i go!
where it ceases, i cease!
...

fifty eight years,
step after step...
pathways of stone,
of water, of wind...
...

a true education
reveals the sameness
in the human condition.
a free society
...

all people just want
to be free, to be free..
white, black, Hispanic,
Asian, and Arabic...
...