The White Horse a poem By John M. Pride Jr.

"The white horse" The Whitehorse stood before me and he asked what do you stand for I told him I stood for honesty and truth he asked and what of love and peace where do these things fit into your life I said to him as long as I am honest with others; those who love me will never have to question my love and as long as I told the truth there will always be peace within me. By John M. Pride Jr. ©12/16/14

A dream hidden divine By John M. Pride Jr.

"A dream hidden divine" Dream stay hidden from the light of others eyes dreams are hidden from the defined eyes of those who do not believe dreams are meant to be yours dreams are meant to be built upon the clouds of a brainstorm Dreams to electrify the mind and thrust vision into the unknown dreams will burn out dream who fade away dreams must become reality if you want them to mend the way dreams cannot fix the path you walk upon unless you are willing to walk The path with a desire which molds the bricks of your heart The furnace within you must burn hot and bright to forge the sword cuts down those who do not believe in you getting the hard gain the trust gain the respect your shoulders will need to be broader to carry all of this Your dreams will strengthen your spirit so today's Star your path into the unknown and be not afraid of what lies behind the closed doors for life is built up of many closed doors and yet none of them are locked for you By John M. Prid…

Your eyes tell me the truth a poem By John M. Pride Jr.

"Your eyes tell me the truth" Waiting to take the youth waiting to taste a piece of the glory waiting to see if I can somehow get there if I can somehow taste it for the first time fed up with getting dirt kicked in my face Fed up with the silent treatment Fed up with the one word of cheek and tongue All I ask for is for others to look me in the eyes when they shake my hand all I ask for is for others to look me in the eyes when they talk to me Our eyes are our truths Our eyes are our fears Our eyes are our love Our eyes are our happiness I want to see what your eyes tell me By John M. Pride Jr. ©11/21/14

Frozen Lovers a poem By John M. Pride Jr.

"Frozen Lovers" The dreams of frozen lovers die. Hang from icicles that are thin at their and drip into a vapor their quick to disappear been held by a new lover to be exhaled again upon the skin of another. Cold seductive lips; that lie and lie again builds the icicles and drips into the sunlight returning to a spectrum of color and to the emptiness below into a lie that never ends. By John M. Pride Jr. © 10/12/14

The clock melts a poem By John M. Pride Jr.

"The clock melts" What seems to be on your mind all the time? What speaks to you to do what you do? The voices in your head don't carry out words into the air unless the words are too heavy to carry for you. The words are rich and vibrant and full of life and wisdom. How do they make the gears in your mind turn? When the world around you just seems to burn, time seems to be made out of cloth and that Cloth is made out of time. When all we can do; is think about how to spend our time we try to learn how to kill our time as well. Like the flame of the candle light flickers and sputters turns and burns to the wax like our skin has melted away. By John M. Pride Jr. © 10/12/14

Walking away a poem By John M. Pride Jr.

"Walking away" You have held my head to the chopping block for too many years. You have held your ax above your head. You waited for my last words I had none for you; until you dropped that heavy ax of burden upon me. Now you hold my head to the sky by the strands of my hair shouting out loud your own humble ways. Shouting out loud that you have one screaming like a heathen. Only to find that death is its own reward in this parade you built for yourself. By John M. Pride Jr. © 10/12/14 I know I have not posted in a long time but I hope to get it going again.

Conspire to inspire thousands a poem By John M. Pride Jr

“Conspire to inspire thousands” Contrive to escape the knowledge of others means of self-destruction. They are excogitating, in finding ways to get into your mind. Fulfilling all their own desires to bring fire from the ones they control. Never wanting to mend the heart Never letting the white dove free from their grasp; breaking the olive branch. Sitting upon hills looking down laughing at the ignorant they have built. They sit upon a pedestal built by the blind. Conspire to inspire thousands Yet the ones with blood money will make you a pariah to those you try to lead. What words can you speak and will they change the world? What words can you write and will anyone read them? Will they change the world? What will they change if you do not speak out loud? What will it change if the words stay in your head? What would it change if they cannot hear you? What will it change if you don’t share your dreams with even the ones that you think don’t care for you? By John M. …