John McKinley Pride Jr. Poetry & Art

"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" 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" 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" 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” 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. P...

“What does it mean to be?” All of us leaders but we can not find our own way to lead. We all become followers in our end; while others lead in conceit breaking out of the eggs of there own rebirth of self-indulgence. We bring all to the fire hoping no one gets burned as we walk away with out the very skin upon our own backs. We can never rekindle the rented promises of others that they keep so deep with in there pockets. Shadows are left behind and so are we; some choose to stand in the shadows. We are not the givers of them or the ones standing in them; we are the shadows we are the ones every one looks through and past. We are the complete after thoughts of an empty theater stage. Just humble sweepings on the floor of others stardom; who shine there selfish light in one direction. But we will be even a light in some one else’s eyes that we do not see. So I ask you; what does it mean to be? By John McKinley Pride Jr ©6/6/11

“Mercury Nine Times” There is Mercury deep within my eyes Mercury falling from space feeling up this hallowed heart with little space The clouds cry tears of joy down upon my face Mercury all over the place No longer does this emptiness haunt me That once was behind this desolate face of mine Feeling so young then growing old as if time hated me Behind this face of mine I have seen many a set of eyes from up close Very little of them held eyes so green as yours I have many memories of you and your green eyes It seems to be some times the only thing that keeps me awake at night The only thing on my mind that keeps me wondering about the faces I have seen before Nine seems to be a small number of times that I have dreamed of you You are here though with in me, all around me, I feel you against my skin You have filled the empty space behind this face made of wax You drain the mercury from within me You make me smile once again Like I always have dreamed If you could j...

“I Hope My Heart Just Grows” My heart changes from time to time My heart beats a different way My heart pumps and thrives for more than what I have Oh how I pray it never stops beating this way A strong heart should win over; egotistical powered brains A strong heart is what others should strive for However they fill their mind before their heart and it seems to get smaller as the brain becomes bigger My heart is always changing My heart is ever changing My heart is thriving for more I hope it keeps growing and I never change my mind for my heart to always be this way By John McKinley Pride Jr. ©6/11/12

“Bend the Bullet” There is this life you want You can’t seem to live it You can’t seem to walk it It leads you in circles leading you nowhere You try to bend the bullet Only to see that you must bite it They tell you that you’re no one special They tell you that they are happy you have a hobby Your no one to them at all; why care? The barrel to your chest and the doubters in your head The hurt drowns all of your hope Leaves you in your sinking failure every time Try to bend the bullet You can never succeed like this standing in the corner of others shadows on your tippy, tippy toes with the books of your past years with in your hands collecting the dust of the bones that others have thrown to you. Only to watch the devil add more books upon those as you procrastinate with your dreams. We must all bleed out our fears sooner or later Sometimes we must learn to except it; to read the writing on the wall and know that the end is near in what they know about you. What i...

“Elastic Me” Elastic skin pulled back again and again. Trying to slow down cells of created textured time to find that the heart is still the same age and nothing really has changed. The blood that thickens quickens all the patterns that lead to some end. Elastic skin pulled back again and again. Nothing really changes; nothing really grasps true reality it all coagulates the same way but never truly mends deep down with in. Yes they all love your elastic skin Yes they all love your plastic ways Now go see who your true friends are and who will love you in the end. By John McKinley Pride Jr ©9/5/11

“The Devils and Death Have no Hold on My Dreams” If I could only share what lies with in me or what my imagination holds which grows within the seams of this crimson colored bag I carry. These are just the mere threads of something greater that could be; however they are chained down with in me. If I could look the devils in there eyes while setting down my cards; I would tell them to get into my bag of dreams so they cause no harm or make there contracts for others souls no more. If I could gather the devils to do as I say I would ask them to see the face of death and I would tell him to get into my bag of dreams so he no longer lingers over the beds of our loved ones who are sick. I could be gleeful knowing those who I love will never die or sale there souls for less than they are worth. We could cheat death and no longer be afraid of the dark when we close our eyes. As the seasons change turning all around me would I change my mind; Shirley there will be those who will ask me...

One of my latest paintings "Here Come's The Sun" 12x16 Acrylic Painting By John M. Pride Jr

Peace Frog Acrylic Painting 28x21.5" Poster Board on Cardboard Got the idea from the song Peace Frog by The Doors.

(Name: #7 ◦Painting ◦Acrylic ◦Abstract ◦20 x 16 in)

Check out Mike Pfeil music on Reverbnation he has some awesome jams to listen to.

"The Human Touch" (this was just on a whim a thought) WE ARE SLAVES TO IT ALL...WE MISS THE HUMAN TOUCH AND DON'T EVEN KNOW IT. WE MISS LOVE WHEN IT IS IN FRONT OF US AND WE MISS FRIENDSHIP WHEN IT STANDS NEXT TO US. WE MISS THE HUMAN TOUCH AND IT IS WHAT WE NEED THE MOST. TO HOLD,TO HUG,TO KISS,TO LOVE, TO DREAM OUR DREAMS AND TO OWN OUR DREAMS. WE MISS IT ALL AS IT PASSES US BY, AS IT STANDS IN FRONT OF US AND WE ASK OUR SELVES WHY? WE HAVE LOST THE HUMAN TOUCH THAT ONCE MEANT SO MUCH. I AM A SLAVE TO IT ALL i CAN NOT LIE. I HAVE FALLEN IN LOVE WITH WHAT IS NOT REAL; THAT THING THAT CAN NOT FEEL. A COMPUTER LOVE BREAK DOWN A HUMAN EMOTION LET DOWN AND IT ALL SEEMS SO REAL. IT FEELS LIKE IT FILLS THE VOID IN US THAT WE ALL HAVE INSIDE. TO FEEL LIKE YOUR PART OF SOMETHING THAT IS NOT THERE LIKE THE NUMBERS ON A BANK TELLERS COMPUTER IT'S NOT ALL REALLY THERE. WE HAVE LOST THE HUMAN TOUCH THAT THING THAT AT ONE TIME MEANT SO MUCH. By John McKinley Pride Jr. ©3/29/12

(Yes I put this poem together while listening to RAMMSTEIN, I do not always do creepy poems like this but at times I try to switch things up a bit, so sorry for being creepy in this one.) "Ramming Stone" The clash of metal Fire red inferno The low growl and moan; a hunger unknown In the bellowing gut of a call so deep it turns men into sheep herds them to their death seventy at a time. Seep, seep, seep, into your mind you will fall asleep in time. An earwig fluttering in your head You will fall from your scarlet sky Crash into flames never knowing why What went wrong? Did you hear your mother whisper to you why she abandoned you? What went wrong? What went wrong? why so sad? Why so serious? I want this to go away; I want this to be removed from my head with a knife even if it bleeds me dry. What's wrong children did you hear the truth for the first time? Did it land you down in a bed of gravel? Did it rub you raw till you felt no more? The clash of metal, fire fed inferno...

(I got the idea for this poem from my oldest son, this was just some of the many questions he was asking me. To think all this from watching one TV show about how the sun will someday explode and will it.) "When the Sun Explodes" will I be there when the sun explodes? Will I see the sun unfold? will I see scattering rays of white and yellow? Will I watch it unfold into prisms of gold and amazing colors? This surely will be a most beautiful death in my mind. I think there will be no time for pain or suffering. just a solid brazing light to take us away; when the sun explodes will we hear? Will we hear anything at all? will the planets act like dominoes and fall into one another? Will I be there when the sun explodes? By John McKinley Pride Jr 11/1/11

"knives and tire tracks" I want to give my violence a face I want to look inside my heart for the lion I want to give my violence volume and fill up the space where my spine is missing I want to give my violence balance and out weigh my fears sometimes my violence puts me in a trance tired of standing on the fence I sleep in a fighters stance with my back to the wall don't give those around you the chance to put the knives any deeper don't let them twist their blades and run you through stand up and be you true we all fall short and it does not mean we just lay down and die It does not mean we go down without fighting I know I will die trying to keep the undertaker's hammer away from the nails don't be the one who puts me in the ground or I will come back and hunt you down not even six feet of ground can keep me down by John McKinley Pride Jr 2/26/12

“If I should lose my cool” Should I explode please just stand clear Should I explode please do not fear Should I explode let me explain once the smoke has cleared. Should I explode please keep in mind; I don’t act like this all the time. My fuse is a mile longer than most and my skin is like leather. Words are like water on a ducks back to me till the drips become more like tidal waves. So, should I explode relies it will be a short burst of reality to those around me that there is a life in me. There is a burning in me There are no ashes in me I will always rise to the occasion My friendship as faithful as a dogs just don’t step on my tail. By John McKinley Pride Jr 12/16/11