Crying like a fire in the sun By John McKinley Pride Jr

"Crying like a fire in sun" a Gouache painting I am working on this is just the start of it.I can not wait to put some Gouache paint on this one and see what colors do best to bring it alive.

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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. …
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Broken Teeth: A Poem By John McKinley Pride Jr.

“Broken Teeth” (not yet edited)

Like knifes and sharp steel

Like burnt rubber upon your back

Like eyes of white light that lie to you.

A mind torn from moral and immoral

How will it dominate?

What will curdle the skin?

A mouth full of blood, a toothless bear
Try to protect your self from the hungry dogs that attack you.

Your face in the sand
You’re to blame for walking on your hands needing to feel where you are led to go.

Cut pieces of the words from your tong to cover up your heart where scars have formed from lies that hibernate with in your chest of gold about the feelings you hide.

It burns you from with inside, festers within your veins; ties you up like a straitjacket and sows your mouth shut with ugly truths.

I dare you to do something

I dare you to try

I dare you to stand up and let the world see you cry.

Like knifes and sharp steel

Like burnt rubber upon your back

Like tunnels of white lights that lie to you and never let you turn back
there is really no end till you grow some teeth and bite…
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The Grandfather Clock: a poem By John McKinley Pride Jr

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My heart is flooded with tears, no one to drain this ache I hide; no one has died again and here I sit on the out side to watch it all from my side.

Listen to the old clock tick as I slowly get sick; watch theme all fade away; so fast and it just seemed like yesterday they were so young and free.

The sent of death is in the air, this time life seems so unfair and to the old man sitting in his rocking chair.

His memories fade away, but after his gone the love will out last demise and forget the past it’s the future that never lasts and it will all go by so fast.

The grandfather clock is set, time has begun at the stage of one and I am the reaper and here I sit waiting for you watching the great grand father clock.

The bell tolls for every man who lives

By John McKinley Pride Jr.
1/2/’96
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