Pride is a strong emotion with many dimensions. It’s an excellent subject for poetry. These days pride is often associated with self-esteem and self-respect. We talk about geek pride, gay pride, and black pride. We suppose this is fine though we question the wisdom of ever accepting a simple label to describe something as unique as human individual. All of us are too complex to really fit under any label that a person might throw at us.
But beyond modern pride movements, traditionally pride used to take on heavy moral undertones. It was the emotional desire of wanting to be better than another for the sole purpose of being better. That was pride. While we at Shadow of Iris absolve ourselves toward commitment toward any religious creed, we are fascinated by that aspect of Christianity which suggests pride is the root of all sin. Who is not to say there isn’t a modicum of wisdom there?
Our poems here mostly reflect that negative aspect of pride and the damage it can do to an individual. We’ve eschewed cheap rhymes such as “he died in his pride” or “he took his pride in stride”— and instead we’ve focused on short ballads, that via metaphor help illustrate what we see as pride. Even if you don’t agree with us or our poems, we hope we stimulate your thoughts and imagination.
All poems here are original, and you will find them only on Shadow of Iris.
Empty Pride, a poem
by Dustin Down
What’s ironic
is she never really wanted him,
but when he became interested
in her best friend, and not her,
it drove her crazy.
It burned her up, day and night,
trying to understand
how he could be attracted
to her shy, clumsy friend
and not show any interest in her
at all.
She was a cheerleader.
She had by far
the more attractive body,
the prettier teeth,
the friendlier smile—
so why?
All along she thought
she would do the right thing.
She was waiting
for the right boy
at the right time—
But then came the party—
her best friend was not there,
but he was—
and just like that,
she lead him to an empty room,
and she came on to him,
hot and heavy.
It never worked out with boy,
and, of course,
she lost her best friend.
In the end, all she was left with
was just her empty pride,
and at that point,
it wasn’t worth much.
Sinking Pride, a poem
by Paul Bearer
His equation was a bust—
and if that was the case,
the bridge they were building
was not sound at all,
but likely to collapse.
But if he admitted it,
he’d have looked liked a fool,
a person capable
of the simplest of errors.
He couldn’t do it,
and so the bridge was built.
And then, of course,
one day when the rain and wind was strong,
and the bridge weighed by down by traffic,
its supports literally snapped,
and the entire bridge fell into the water below.
The loss of pride turned out to be
inevitable—
and, in this case, much heavier
than it ever needed to be.
Pride be Cruel, a poem
I always thought
they could have gotten back together,
but their inability to admit mistakes
took on the status of a contest.
I can’t say who was the first
to hurt the other with their words
but it then became a competition
between the two of them
who could hurt the other the most.
They both drove so many cruel arrows home,
each became too proud to be able to turn back
and see the inevitable tragedy unfolding
and the unavoidable break—
From then on
they could never face each other again.
Even the mere thought of the other
would bring more pain
than either of them could ever bear.
Saga of Pride, short poems
by the Eclectic Minstrel
1
He could never be
who he wanted to be
as he always too busy
trying to be someone
he thought others
would be proud of.
2
After too many nights
with too many men
— always the wrong men
and always with the wrong point to prove,
she found herself vomiting up pearls,
a long necklace of riches.
She was choking
on who she thought she had to be.
3
Pride is not
being the last to be chosen
in PE class
by the team captains.
4
Pride is generally
quite good
until it is not.
Lucifer’s Pride, a poem
by Tamara Knight
Lucifer won’t let go his pride.
It’s all he’s got
and all he’ll ever have.
He’s a rebel yelling in the pits of hell.
He’ll grab you if he can, after all,
he grabbed Eve, didn’t he?
He’ll whisper in your ear
that your neighbor’s got too much
money, happiness, or respect.
You’ve got to even up the score
and anything you do, well,
that’s your God given right.
Don’t listen,
he’s just trying to drag you down—
down deep where he is,
so he can stand above you
even as he sinks
in his heavy pride.
Proud people breed sad sorrows for themselves.
― Emily Brontë
We hope you found these poems about pride intriguing— and that perhaps they inspire your own poetry. Pride is a great subject for a poem, and we suggest you try your hand at one yourself. Get writing! Finally, don’t forget to go to the side bar and follow Shadow of Iris, so you don’t miss our next thrilling poem!