Step into the EYE... walk into the unknowing. What are of you afraid of? Delve...delve...delve deep. Fear is a weighed response to a possible biased outcome of your own forging, fear not that future, for it could unfold into a thousand other delightful experiences. You will never know though unless you step in the EYE. So step, take my hand and let us both see what's on the other side together. by Philip Wardlow June 7th, 2023
Off to work I go
She is nestled here amongst me, our energies intertwined exchanging soft electricity, nuzzling. A quiet moment created where space and time slows, juxtaposed with love and longing amid fears and frailties that are forever timeless. She shouldn't have to wonder, nor should she ever worry in regards to if we are forever. But she does, oh she does, soft and hard she does. I hold her all the tighter so she knows my energy is all hers, pure and bright as the noon day sun and just as comforting and warm. By Philip Wardlow May 10th, 2023
The Mucky Muck
on from dawn until
dusk and the mucky muck
An insidious thing
the mucky muck,
pulling life out,
motivation for movement
as the spirit tries to escape
a maze never seemingly meant
to be solved.
With a thrum, thrum
insistence to be heard, the mucky muck lurks
latched on like a
fat tick needing
to be pulled out,
cut out, or burned!
Mucky muck leave me be
For I swear, with
sword in hand
I will cut thee
And I will see you bleed, bleed, bleed
even ever as my blood
leaves me, running in rivulets
down and dripping off
the cufflinks of my sleeves
You then mucky muck will finally surely
be free of me.
by Philip Wardlow March 27th, 2023
The Balance of Chaos
Give the Jester a hand
for he has worked hard to get to this day.
That Jester’s smile just may be painted on.
or he may be neither sad, nor happy, but
somewhere in the middle of the two
Somewhere in the show, the balls become difficult to throw
Up and up and up. More and more … Plop!
Ah, no worries, he’ll make it all up to you tonight
by giving the entire audience a rose and a sweet
piece of chocolate.
By Philip Wardlow March 23rd, 2023
Even the Devil got a Valentines Card what’s your problem?
Claimed by Cupid, a Dark Turn
Do you believe to escape me oh beautieous one ?
You who seeks to think she can choose her own way.
My arrows fly faster than you could ever run think to run
Hide you say?
Escape from love’s sharp arrow is but a myth, whether it be unrequited, thrust upon, stumbled into, taken, or laid in siege, so shall you feel it’s thudding sting into you deep and anchored in full.
My arrows when flung seek only but the beat of the heart, so as long you shall live so shall it find you whether on the highest sunlit peak or the dankest deepest hole in the bowels of this dark earth.
I find you a prize worthy only unto me. You shall have no other I have decreed. Long have I sought such a consort for eons, for I have dwelt in perpetual solitude allowed only to offer love to the ingratitude of others
To be cursed and denied it my entire life is cruelty alongside the cruel.
I am done with all that.
So fly oh arrow, fly true.
Seek her heart, seek, seek, seek
Find my true love
For there is no where for her to run.
By Philip Wardlow February 10th, 2023
I'm a sun surfer, riding waves of fire and fusion, I graze the gravity wells on a board of pure energy, slicing through the primordial particles of plasma Burn baby burn! Do you feel it? Ain't nothing better when surfs up. I shoot the curl of a sun flare out into space and almost touch Mercury before I plummet flung back down the barrel as it spits me towards the sun's surface to finally kick out and to settle, just floating taking it all in, I smile inwardly as I drop in again and do it all over Ain't nothing better bro. Tomorrow isn't promised Nature's energy setting a plate for you to eat off of, so carve it my brother and sisters, eat those waves well, Wack, Hack, Crack, and Snap, your way through. Throw buckets of ions as you slam and jam on through. Ride, ride, ride do or die. That's the only way to catch the sun Truly. by Philip Wardlow February 7th, 2023
Some think they know her
She is a beauty.
Full of humor, wit and sarcasm with
a laughing smile that compels you to
smile in return.
When she invites you in she holds you close to her heart.
Her passion enthralls you, her empathy calls to you.
But do you know her like I do?
Do you see her open wounds
laid plainly on the table for all to see,
for ever has she been an open book
Stories of many a woe wound through her
various lives and lands she has traveled.
Read her story. See her.
Think her veneer made of steel, impervious
to your blows, constant and unrelenting?
She is fragile as any other soul in this world.
What battle is so important to be won that you
would scourge the field of her feelings til nary a blade
of grass stands underfoot.
Be warned, she is but a calm tempest
held at bay on the horizon that you invite in
with your callous words you sling so blindly.
I fear you would not survive her storm.
by Philip Wardlow January 16th, 2023
Noir Detective Story opening…Gun at the Head
There is a gun pointed at me by a woman in shadow right this very moment. Meager light from the street lamps fights it way through the blinds of my dark office as I sit behind my desk shrouded in nothingness.
Caught unaware I was, found with my left cheek upon my desk, asleep in a pool of my own drool alongside a bottle of rum sitting on its side with nary a drop to its name.
From my one eye that is allowed to see, light catches the barrel of the pistol firmly pressed, held by a well manicured stark white delicate hand. The pressure of the metal tube tight against my temple, which I’m sure, is creating a nice circular indentation upon my skin at this very moment.
I hear the rain outside pouring buckets of cats and dogs. I hear the cars cutting through the river that is the road as I sit immobile just two floors above this moving passive world.
I could die here tonight, brains sprayed all across my desk. The cops would have a hell of a time playing connect the dots in trying to figure out my face after the trigger was pulled. No opening of the casket for the wife and kids, or friends. If I had any of those.
She was itching to kill me. This was a woman who meant business.
I could tell she knew her business, knew her business well. She wasn’t breathing heavy, in fact she wasn’t breathing at all!
Well that’s peculiar.
A small, dithering of low laughter filled the darkened room around me. Who was with her? My one eyeball twirled to see.
“Don’t worry about them, they are the last thing you will need to worry about. Indeed the last.” Her voice crackled like burnt paper to my ear. I knew she was smiling eventhough I couldn’t see her.
“What do you want?” I asked, calmer than I felt. Perhaps I was already resigned to my fate.
“Your fate is in my hands is it? That has always been your mistake almost from the moment you drew air into this world. You are like so many I meet in this world.”
She pressed the gun harder against my skull. The metal bit deeper. I could feel the blood starting to flow down over my cheek near my eye.
“For fuck sakes! Stop! What do you mean!?”
“Think, you fucking moron. Why am I here. Right now. In this room. With you. Holding a gun to your head? Think hard before you speak another word.”
Think, think, think. I know if I said the right wrong thing she would pull the trigger.
“You got that right, stop telling yourself to think and actually do it.” Crinkle, crinkle went her papery voice.
She can hear what I’m thinking?
“Yes, for fuck sakes you are just now picking up on that, god I hate my job. Think.” I saw her grip tighten on the trigger.
So I thought. Quietly to myself. I thought. Then I knew.
“I know why you are here. I asked you to come. You are Death aren’t you? Actual Death.” I cringed in my own pool of drool just asking her, it? or what the fuck ever the correct pronoun was appropriate.
Suddenly the gun was removed from my head.
“Congratulations, now sit up, not much time left. Listen carefully. First, you are abysmal at killing yourself. I have presided over your almost corpse six times prior, waiting and waiting and you always seem to pull through. Now this seventh time you knock yet again on Death’s door. Do you know how rude it is to knock on someone’s door and then run away…..well do you!!” She yelled like a Banshee then, causing my overturned bottle of rum to shatter into a thousand pieces.
“Well?” she asked almost too quietly. I heard her tapping a foot on my hard wood floors.
“Oh, um, I’m sorry. I thought that was a rhetorical question….of course it’s rude. I didn’t know I was ah uh knocking in my defense. I never thought death was literal in the sense that you are… I uh mean standing in front of me like your are in the real sense of things….” my words dithered slowly to a mumble as she slowly leaned forward into the dim light over my desk.
I was struck by how beautiful Death was immediately as her/it face came into view.
“Why thank you, and I should be and I’m not an IT, she is the proper pronoun, and I need you to hire you for job” she said, replying immediately to my thoughts.
” A job, me, investigating for you, Death? What could I ever possibly help you with?
“My death, my very own death. You see, someone in precisely seven days, sixteen hours, three minutes and two seconds is going to kill me. I need you to find the killer before he, or she, or them, or it kills me.”
by Philip Wardlow Jan 16th, 2023