Knowing you


Strange, what a first meeting
is between two
future lovers.
Primal,
at it’s inception
Eyes wide with that
of
the big bad wolf
looking upon
Miss Riding Hood
while all the while
Red is looking over her
shoulder with the same
intensity
The same thirst to dry
up a thousand oceans.
No matter how instant
of a glance, it was there
in both of them,
each knowing
the other
in that captured
moment.
One secret not hidden
amongst all the rest
not known.
Hopefully more to
be divulged
as the knowing
between them
goes
on and on
throughout
the night.

by Philip Wardlow 2019

Love, Lust, In, Out, and the Actual


Speak to me of love?
What do you know of love?

Did it grip you tightly?
Did it have you enthralled?
Did you chase it like a little
kitten chases a ball of yarn
tumbling down a long
flight of stairs never quite
catching up
until it all unravels.
What does a kitten mean to a piece of
yarn anyways?
I will tell you,
absolutely nothing at all.
If you truly wish to know the
secrets of the heart
let’s speak of lust,
love’s lost cousin.
A bewildered child of
aches and unknown needs,
a meandering fool of the flesh
thinking the reality of a moment of
soft penetrating touches
done in the dark
is all their is to
being complete.
But those sweet treats
are only ever
half the nourishment
the soul needs.
I will tell you this,
Love starts as a delicate touch
followed by a delicate word,
followed by a delicate intention,
followed by a delicate action
Over, and over, and over
a cycle never ending
never wanting to end.
Because the feeling
is too sweet,
sweeter than the sweetest
candy
and infinitely more filling
to the ache that sits
inside you.

by Philip Wardlow 2019

The Half-Century Man


Soon I shall be the Half-Centennial,
a hundred years sliced neatly
down the middle I will be, with
a plethora of histories
passings buried deep in the
very blood that flows
through me.

As gray touches lightly upon
the mostly black hair upon my head
I take solace that it is
thicker by far than
more than half the men in the world
at half my age.
And my grin still
causes a girl
or two to smile
my way in wonder
at the mystery
I may hold for her.

Though my skin may yet
be smooth
the wrinkles of time
have burrowed into
me, scarring a tired
soul once
remembered young,
once vibrant
once foolishly bold
once innocent
once true
and I weep
at that lost
for it was that not
long ago.

I fear more than I did
of death, now weary of friends
and of dreams only to become abandoned,
to relationships nurtured
only to be tainted.
Yet, I know
with each fear, each lost,
comes wisdom, perseverance,
resolve, and epiphanies to be
unbound and courage to be renewed.
for old dogs
who still wish to learn
a new trick or two.

So as my candles are lit,
my cake is set before me,
and the song is sung,
I will close my eyes
and make a grand
wish for the ages
yet to come
my way.

by Philip Wardlow 2019

.

Resolutely Forever yours


Once I was her Prince in courting,
now I am her Kingly Husband kneeling
and she my Queen and Wife,
Unwavering in love am I,
full of autumnal dreamings
never ceasing for the life and
lives we will lead
together bound fast
in charms and enchantments
that no witch or warlock
could tear asunder.

With pressed kisses we did
call all the magics of the Universe
to bear witness upon our oaths
felt true from heart to heart
as the elementals of Earth, Fire, Air
and Water danced around
our two spirits
embracing

She is my love,
and if a single tear of hers
should fall, then
so one of mine
She is my future, and my present
filling me with a need
to always be hers
in friendship, in trust,
in passions, and in
love.
Steadfast

 

by Philp Wardlow 2019

 

Thank you for your Pain


Thank you for your pain, but move along
someone else just got the high
score in the game of life
and you are just not
important anymore

Contract a disease
and then we’ll talk,
depressions been
done already,
that’s last year new It girl,
and you didn’t make the cover.
Hell you didn’t even get
a mention towards
the back.

You could always present us
up with a new dilemma, something
tortuous and glorious
something for the ages
And we’ll spy with our little
eye, and give a word or two
of sanctimonious advice
trying not to sound trite
as we hand out a like or love
like its a piece of gold.

But please, seriously, move along
you are taking up
space.

by Philip Wardlow

Plants need watering


The flower sits on the table, withering,
it looks tired now. Slumped.
Sad.
Dead dry leaves litter the ground
around it.
Perhaps not watered enough, perhaps
drowned with rotted roots
Perhaps too much sun as it
sat in a hot room,
or were the shades drawn too tight
not allowing enough light?
Choked off in some way
it was, to look so.
Either way it was neglected.
Best just to throw
it way now.

by Philip Wardlow 2019

Connections


I connected with you but you never knew,
all hundred of you.

Did you ever feel a light tickle on your neck or a
tap on the shoulder?

That was me just saying hello.

Much the distant spectator
string in hand, held tight to the kite of you
as you danced in the wind.

I either smiled, laughed,  or cried
just a bit, soaking up
the moment that you offered
out.

Until I simply decided to let go
to watch you escape into
the sky.

By Philip Wardlow 2019

Tying you up


Never,
was I great at tying knots in the Boy Scouts;
Square Knot
Clove Hitch
Bowline
Sheet Bend
Two Half-Hitches
and the Taunt Line-Hitch.
They all ran together
and daunted my clumsy fingers,
yet I persisted and received my badge

A year later
I was not in Boy Scouts
and I had no use for knots
So I soundly forgot everyone of them
All that knowledge had leaked from my brain
wiped clean memory as if it had
never been.
I even sucked at tying my shoes.

Fast forward, thirty years later
I took up knot tying again for other reasons
less academic
and most assuredly extracurricular.
Your earnest eyes came seeking it, calling for it
needing it.
I answered your compulsions
as they mirrored my own,
proudly perverse in spirit.

I am still clumsy, still fumbling,
but my passion for you will carry
me through to mastery one day,
for a sureness of hand
along with a clever
deftness of skill
to intertwine your body,
quench your desires,
and a satiate soul seeking
to be tied to me and by me
forever.

by Philip Wardlow 2019

Padded Perfection


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We slave to have everything,
we fight the world for “ours”,
we strive for perfection,
we seek a look of a dream
that shimmers and undulates
from a hot arid
plane
at the edge
of a  horizon
containing all our  fears and doubts

This seeming perfect way
of anything is bullshit
it’s just bullshit
everyone thinks they’re better than the other
vanity abounds as pride flattens them
under the gravity of their
making
always pushing, and pushing
down, down, down.

Their way is the best way, cant you see?
And if you can’t, well sorry, you are just
not as cultured as them.
There are no gray areas, only
high contrasts and muted voices
in a bubble.

Light and dark
banging against the other
until all the world
goes mad
held tight in a bright white straight jacket
in a dark as pitch
padded room.

by Philip Wardlow 2019

Applying for the Job of Death


 

 

To Whom it may Concern,

I saw your ad in the Daily Death Bugle for an opening for the Death position that had recently become available in your department.

I can’t tell you how delighted I was to see the position finally open up after so many eons of waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting…sorry (I have waited quite a while)

Please see attached resume regarding my education and experience on all things related to death and in my earlier years with dismemberment only as I was still learning what it truly meant to properly and with great honor take someone’s soul.

My brief stint of education  at DIT (The Death Institute of Technology) wetted my appetite for all things Death, so I then chose to enroll with the esteemed Reaper University to properly round out my skills and attain, as you see, my Masters ,Majoring in Reaping with a Minor in Pottery. I have trapped many a soul in my stylish handmade cookie jars mind you, and they sell really well at the Arts and Craft Festival every year.

I believe my collaboration and internship work with various mortuaries, churches, casinos, and funny enough, oriental massage parlors gave me a unique perspective that Death is always lurking around the corner. I am ready, willing and able to creep around any corner put in front of me with vigor and steadfastness to this ancient glorious trade to see that the job gets done.

 Please consider me for  this Reaper position as I believe I am the only entity for the job with the right  mix and balance of perversion, passion and education to get the job done, and done right the first time,  as you can only kill a person once they say.

Sincerely,

Philip “The Grim”  Wardlow

666 Scythe Lane
Purgatory, MI
http://www.reaperofsouls.com
616-666-6666

 

 

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