John McKinley Pride Jr. Poetry & Art

"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

“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...

"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

“Hoping For the Blue Lights to Fade” Blue lights cure my love Green lines shape the heart beat that beats like a drum. Orange waves role in numbers holding my love breath in sporadic bursts of gold. Blue lights cure my love and my love cures me Sooths me; makes me forget the demons inside my head. My love makes me forget about myself; grabs all of who I am and absorbs all the good from within me. Blue lights cure my love Within my love creates a new skin; so I sit still watching my love. Thinking of my love and hoping for the blur lights to fade away. Waiting for the blue lights to evaporate the yellow sadness within and hope to bring my love home again with love in my arms. By John McKinley Pride Jr 2/15/12

“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 s...

Now that some things have slowed down a bit I am ready to start putting up as much work as I can please stand by for more.

I have been a little busy as of late; but I will be having holiday soon and will have time to get out some more poetry that I have not been able to post. Over time we all have a note pad that we feel up and never get to share this work with others well I will be doing this soon. I have a gob of new material ready to post but have not had the time so please stay posted. I hope every one is having a wonderful Thanksgiving and sharing and loving others. God Bless John M. Pride Jr.

My love poems have never been to strong or even well done but I wanted to take a shot at it again when a friend of mine asked for one for her book I gave it a shot and this is what I came up with I hope some one likes it. All my best and thanks to who ever takes the time to read it. “This Heart Bleeds Forever” This love bleeds from me. This heart is forever home to you. For you it is one; Its chambers combined; Veins entwined; wrapped up in you I breathe you in never to exhale. You fill my heart with fire. You take away my fear. You fill me with everlasting life. You renew the youth within me. You are my truth and my faith when I have nothing to say. You pass through me re-rooting my soul with every touch of your hands. I am never whole when you are missing from this puzzled life I live. Stay close to me; be here with me in this moment for every heart beat within me says your name. This heart bleeds forever and bleeds forever you. By John McKinley Pride Jr. 10/31/11

“Hands Aflame” (Revised) With my hands aflame, I push you away. You stand red faced, like a tyrant in shame caught in your acts. Bring your echo loud and clear. I push you away with my hands aflame; they have never burnt the same. You fear me because you know me; your echo stays loud and clear, Repeating your hiding fear that’s there inside of you. There is a fire that burns within my hands, and it consumes the air around me the same today as yesterday. My hands, charcoal black, smoldering and burning, Are a bright red like a black smith’s fire. I light the night with sparks clanging from my very heart that molds the fighter in me. There is no water that can cool this heart. There is no water that can put out this flame. It has become eternity and it has become golden. My hands aflame, I will push you away and you will see a different light in me. By John McKinley Pride Jr 8/8/11

Lost are we amongst the multitude of roaming souls and broken hearts. Searching ghosts are we pondering the graveyards of our past glory years Broken are we searching for someone to mend it like a hermetic peace of machinery What are we to become but dust and granulated feelings of anther's lust for power. Like a traumatized victim; left in the middle of the road of a population overload. Have I tried hard enough? Have I giving the blood? Have I giving the sweat? Have I giving the tears? No, I have had them scraped from the slate of my very being. Ripped off my skin like badges of merit that will never leave my mind; it only scars my pride and chains down my spirit. You've burned it all down; all that I was and what I left behind in hope that you would fallow. But it was not enough; it was never enough put this on my tombstone and never forget how I never forgot about you and the pain I felt in my overworked hands was callused over with the love I had for you. By John McKinley ...

“The Warehouse” Here I remain Forgotten by the world Broken windows have released my soul My doors no longer open Chained heavily with no thought of future purpose I can still hear it inside me A humming like worker bees The cling clanging of Metal, forklifts and alive with flickering florescent love inside. By John McKinley Pride Jr 5/10/11

“The Lost” We feel lost I feel lost To be lost To never be found To be loved To never be found To never be loved To never be loved by another Confessors of the heart To feel blood flow freely again The lost feel nothing? The lost are lost cause they feel nothing? Am I a fool? If there be a heart beat in the lost; then they surely feel and if they feel; we can find them again; find them again with in the walls of a broken heart. Reaching out our hands saying we can love again. By John McKinley Pride Jr 12/30/10

“The Wolf’s Clothing” The wolf dresses in sheep’s clothing. The lawyer dresses like a shark. The government dresses like our big brother. Teachers dress like small gods and teen idols. Parents dress like their children and fear about how they will grow. Little girls dress like women and little boys dress like thugs. The media dresses like your friend till they find the rules they can bend. Businesses dress up like shiny new things to get you to buy them a wedding ring. We dress as we are told and never change a thing. By John McKinley Pride Jr 6/2/11

(This was a short poem made put together for a friends children's book that they are doing) Feathers light and dark, meshed together like night and day. Wings flutter and splash landing in a quiet lucidity upon golden ripples of liquidized glitter; like stars spreading in the sky on a cold crisp morn. The sun peeks over the hills welcoming warm delight to push the dark away and welcome a beautiful day. The trees sway back and forth like a giant church choir; with a slow breeze whistling through each branch that sings the song of a new day. By John McKinley Pride Jr. 5/24/11

"My Addiction to Conviction" Conviction has become my addiction and my addiction has become me; I can not lie or steal. Feel this love inside of me is it ok? What have we learned so far and how have we gone from here? Must I think of these things and is it ok? Where does the heart fall and how big of a hole is left if it is taking from us? If we fall how deep is it from here where it seems like hell has frozen over; would you spit in my face? I guess we will find out; push your hand towards mine and I will see the look upon your face. Be it ice or fire I will love you without end; I will always be here for you but I can not lie for you forever. Oh what to do? When you have some type of pain everyday in your mind; a constant tragic life were magic becomes your night. To have and hold a solid foundation just to let it fall into a puzzle of problems on your desk of questions not yet answered it never seems to put it's self together. You are always missing a piece and if you ...