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Mr. Moon – A poem


 

lonelymoon

Mr. Moon ~

 

Why oh why Mr. Moon do you walk

hands in pockets, eyes downcast,

as the stars sit in there satin blue sheet,

surrounding?

Don’t you know it’s all for you?

No eyes but yours can see

all that the sky can give.

Feel blessed in this.

Earthly trappings are not the

core of your constance.

Nor the phases you

endure in your

soul’s search

for permanence.

Even in shadow,

yet you are still whole.

Even though no others

may see.

You will always be whole.

 

by Philip Wardlow 2014

Music lets Roll – A poem


Music ~

 

Ride Ride that wave that cascades down your soul and over that mind in quarter time…flow flow…and juxtapose that tapping of those feet with that beat in the bass…let me see that smile shine as your teeth flash in a wicked grin …let the sweat pour down as you thump and bump…dance dance and ride ride that wave that rolls ….as you never ever have reason to complain when the music comes to stay stay stay….now play boy play!

 

Philip Wardlow 2014

 

Peanuts-Dancing-GIF

Perishable


Perishable~

My finger, one finger
traces down her temple
over her sweet cheeked smilejar
eyes lighted
just for me
just for me…

So many emotions
behind that smile for me

I must take each of them that
I discover and put them in their own mason jar
and screw the lid down tight
for safe keeping.

To preserve
what surely will be lost.

For you see, we are all delicate
things.
Perishable.

This environment is not kind
to such fragile creatures.

But I wonder.
What is ever meant to last?

I reach for one of the mason jars
and take it down off upon the shelf,
unscrew its top, and tip
its’ contents into my waiting mouth.

I smile and reach for another.

 

 

by Philip Wardlow 2014

She – a Poem


She ~

She’s beautiful… not oh, look at her pretty face I want to fuck her beautiful.

Of course I would in any angle and position I could put her in.

But beautiful like an explosion of all the senses that she touches in you.

From your heart to your hand which finds all her release points.

Her eyes that find yours across the room , wanting nothing else but to please…

She’s beautiful in the way that leads you to want to wrap around her like a blanket .

She’s an addiction, an affliction a contradiction at the apex of her attraction

She’s trouble.. oh so much trouble

but the good kind you want to unwind

and let spin and spin and spin

She is simply a connection, a puzzle piece,

that missing part that you didn’t know

was apparently needed

to make your soul complete.

Downcast

watercolor by Steve Hanks

By Philip Wardlow 2014

Embers in Transition – A poem


BurningPassion Embers in Transition ~

My nature has always been as bright embers…

clumped,  low and smoldering

always smoldering within me.

Never roaring, never a  conflagration

never wanting to burn bright,

to consume and conquer.

A fearful ball of flame, apprehensive

of overreaching its borders,

Self constrained and wrapped tight.

Hidden and held down.

I’m burning up.

layer by slow layer from the inside.

I need to let it trickle out

and let the air in.

Feed it,

give it what it wants….

So it can truly burn like

it has always wished

it could

From without.

by Philip Wardlow 2014

Wild Child – A poem


WildChild

By Artist Noe Two

Wild Child ~

 

Feral eyes
look back at me from the dark corner
of the room you crouch in.
Though your eyes are in shadow,
I sense the defiance in them.
You’ve been too long out in the wild
child.
Too long.
The woods may be your friend but
you need some taming girl.
Hair is unkept, fingernails split
cracked and bloodied
from all the bodies you’ve buried
each time you escape.
The pain leaks from you like a water through
a sieve.
Elusive composure, hunched and bent
reluctant words pulled in a snarl of
savage civility.
I know you, that soul that sleeps
so so deep within.
I see it fighting to overcome.
Always fighting,
beating and snapping, biting, clawing.
Painfully beautiful as you are
painfully aware of your
own vulnerability when you
allow the outside in.
Wild child you be
as your dark eyes look to
me for true
release.

 

 

by Philip Wardlow

Passions – Quote

3AM

“Objects in life, be it a story,poem,or photograph, which are filled with a perfect passion reminds  and guides us to strive for a portion of it…” – by Me

 

 

Krampus Comes !! – A Dark Christmas poem


 

 

Krampus

Art by Brom

 

 

Be ye, young or old,

as a child of nine or ninety-nine

We all look to the magical time

when ol’ St. Nick comes a calling,

that jolly grey bearded man with a smile for all.

Traveling down the road  in his horse drawn sled

from  late dusk to early dawn.

The good ones know they’ll be visited by him,

adorned and wreathed with gifts from

head to toe.

They will sleep a peaceful slumber, full

of dreams of the bright morning to come

and the presents they so richly deserve

from a year of being so very very good.

I am afraid some may not be so inclined

at this joyous holiday time to partake of

all this festive cheer.

For you see, there are some children who lay deep in their

covers under the shadow of night as it plays

through their cold window pane,

waiting for him to come,

St. Nicks dark brother, the Other,

called Krampus to some.

This dark horned,  hairy tailed, cloven hooved creature

knows your heart of hearts

and all the naughty things you’ve done.

And he is not forgiving like

good ol’ St. Nick.

With bundled birch sticks in hand

he will greet you with a sharped tooth grin

right before he lays into your

skin,

To beat you about the legs and arms,

a sweet painful present for all your

year’s sins and wicked charms.

Then if you have been especially bad

and you know who you are.

He will take down his big black

ruck sack from upon  his back

Open it up, grab you up

and stuff you in.

Then quick out the bedroom window

he flies to disappear down the dark road

with you never to be seen

by your family 

ever again.

 

 

by Philip Wardlow 2014

 

 

krampusWalking

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A spanking ensues….my most risqué Erotic poem ever? Nope – Adult Content be warned


 

spanking

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Spanking Ensues…

 

 A smirk, a flick of the hair, a defiant look with an akimbo stance.

Whether it’s a raised voice,

or a direction not followed correctly or in a timely

manner.

All these belligerent bratty overtures

directed my way

earn you a strike upon an ass

properly presented upon my command.

Test me.

Stinging slap soon to be followed by a loud

sweet smack.

Every incident, a blow up your ass cheeks,

every palm placed with ferocity

to put you in your place.

Your hips upon my knees, ass facing up at me, hard cock pressed against your stomach, for I relish this.

Pussy wet…

I can feel you drip…drip…drip

As the electrical lines of force

travel from hand to buttocks

to course into your core

soaking you from the inside out.

I smile to myself, arm poised high,

waiting….taunting…teasing,,,,escalating

the scene.

Because I know

in your soul

you need this, relish it.

as you embrace the familiar pain like a

a long lost friend.

And we are both content

 

 By Philip Wardlow

 

All of It – A Poem


Hands

All of It ~

 

She’s everything,
cute, luscious,devine
wickedly mischievous
a show off, and needy,
funny yet pinch your nipples
serious at times
A passionate soul,
with a demanding nature to be
nurtured and loved and
hugged.
Eyes which twinkle yet bore
into yours, wanting
and wanting
more
and more and more
Damn she’s a chore.
But oh boy, when she asks for
more.
You know what I mean
You smile, because you want to
give it.
With her, your in it.
Deep….balls and all.
To the wall…to the floor…
in her arms and she in yours
and is there any
better place to be?

 

 

by Philip Wardlow

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