Somwhere Between the Pages I Fell in Love .wmv: a spoken word poem By John McKinley Pride Jr
A new spoken word poem up and going at my Youtube account at "riverboatsong"
"Somewhere Between the Pages and the Words I Fell in Love"
I have been here before
Somewhere between the paper and the pen,
Between the sentences and the paragraphs,
Between the dotting of the i's and the crossing of the t's,
Between the cousins of the G and the Q.
Somewhere between the empty pages, words will start to appear and flow like a wonder in love with expressing the scribbles I compress upon this paper of a pad forgotten.
Now remembering with every loop and line what we fell in love with as a child; somewhere between the silver chair and Max the "Wild Thing King".
I fell in love with the words of others; somewhere between the numbers of fifteen and thirty-two I found a frost upon the pages of an old poetry book.
Melting upon the tips of my fingers; outlining the very soul of my finger prints slowly drip, drip, and dripping down the side of my pen;
roll, roll, and rolling across the paper and leisurely soaking into the pages of the binder that held my words that I loved so dear.
Somewhere between my thoughts, my heart, my mind and the child that has become the man I am today, the passion has grown with me for the words of others who came before me.
To share my words somewhere between the pages; hoping someone will fall in love with the words I write as well.
By John M. Pride Jr.
11/20/08
"Somewhere Between the Pages and the Words I Fell in Love"
I have been here before
Somewhere between the paper and the pen,
Between the sentences and the paragraphs,
Between the dotting of the i's and the crossing of the t's,
Between the cousins of the G and the Q.
Somewhere between the empty pages, words will start to appear and flow like a wonder in love with expressing the scribbles I compress upon this paper of a pad forgotten.
Now remembering with every loop and line what we fell in love with as a child; somewhere between the silver chair and Max the "Wild Thing King".
I fell in love with the words of others; somewhere between the numbers of fifteen and thirty-two I found a frost upon the pages of an old poetry book.
Melting upon the tips of my fingers; outlining the very soul of my finger prints slowly drip, drip, and dripping down the side of my pen;
roll, roll, and rolling across the paper and leisurely soaking into the pages of the binder that held my words that I loved so dear.
Somewhere between my thoughts, my heart, my mind and the child that has become the man I am today, the passion has grown with me for the words of others who came before me.
To share my words somewhere between the pages; hoping someone will fall in love with the words I write as well.
By John M. Pride Jr.
11/20/08
Comments
'Melting upon the tips of my fingers; outlining the very soul of my finger prints slowly drip, drip, and dripping down the side of my pen'
favorite part:)