Eric Cockrell Poems

i am, become...
in closing...
what i wanted to do
with this series was
...

walking through the wetness,
rain falling softly.
the rhythm of the wipers,
the trees bow to the wind.
...

i am, become...
i am the dust
of the Great Depression,
the bodies falling from windows,
...

there comes a time
when the fire we have tended,
calls for new hands.
when the wind we have rode,
...

she walks barefoot,
clad in panties, and
a long flannel shirt...
...

Sunday morning redemption...
black coffee and cigarettes,
the silence that only Sunday brings.
the week behind, jumbled and lost.
...

someone sent me a letter,
and asked me if i was black or white, , ,
i cut my finger, signed my name
in blood at the bottom,
...

i pray, therefore i am.
i work, therefore i am.
i give, therefore i am.
i get knocked down,
...

thunderstorm, and ashes...
wild horses running free.
wolves panting in the darkness,
owls shudder in the night.
...

i'm just not going to support your wars anymore,
i will not believe your propaganda.
i will not swallow your political lies.
i will not adhere to your moral and legal codes.
...