Jaded Ivy: a poem By John McKinley Pride Jr
"Jaded Ivy"
The words spill out on to the page, but they don’t seem to go anywhere.
No eyes or mouths can figure them out, brains of those who read it burn and fizzle trying to knead it in to there own ideas of what the words should be.
Were does this go?
How does this fit?
No, no, no the words are all wrong, this should be here and that should go there.
Trying to find some mathematical problem deeply imbedded somewhere in the words I bleed.
It is not science nor is it a puzzle to figure out why we are here; it is words put to paper to shout out loud and clear to the whole world I am here.
To see that the soul has nothing to fear, to peek out of your heart at the demons that have built up inside of you and say here I am bearing it all; all for you to see my love, my fears, my happiness and my loathing.
Wait, wait a hush for just a moment; I will shut my mouth or do I shudder when I think silence must become me because of the words that come from you, thinking it to be wisdom past on to some one who had nothing and made something even more grand than life offered.
The paper my body, the pen my spirit and the ink my blood; surly you think these words come from a mad man; well my friend such is my writing, such is my work.
So I slowly remove the jaded ivy around my head and I think to my self a peaceful thought and I walk away knowing that you know nothing about me at all.
By John M. Pride Jr.
8/15/08
The words spill out on to the page, but they don’t seem to go anywhere.
No eyes or mouths can figure them out, brains of those who read it burn and fizzle trying to knead it in to there own ideas of what the words should be.
Were does this go?
How does this fit?
No, no, no the words are all wrong, this should be here and that should go there.
Trying to find some mathematical problem deeply imbedded somewhere in the words I bleed.
It is not science nor is it a puzzle to figure out why we are here; it is words put to paper to shout out loud and clear to the whole world I am here.
To see that the soul has nothing to fear, to peek out of your heart at the demons that have built up inside of you and say here I am bearing it all; all for you to see my love, my fears, my happiness and my loathing.
Wait, wait a hush for just a moment; I will shut my mouth or do I shudder when I think silence must become me because of the words that come from you, thinking it to be wisdom past on to some one who had nothing and made something even more grand than life offered.
The paper my body, the pen my spirit and the ink my blood; surly you think these words come from a mad man; well my friend such is my writing, such is my work.
So I slowly remove the jaded ivy around my head and I think to my self a peaceful thought and I walk away knowing that you know nothing about me at all.
By John M. Pride Jr.
8/15/08
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