Monthly Archives: March 2013

Inquiring Minds, Poetry/Quote of the Week

Cherokee Proverb – The Two Wolves

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WolfImage

Cherokee Proverb:

Cherokee legend of Two Wolves: An old Cherokee is teaching his grandson about life. “A fight is going on inside me,” he said to the boy.

“It is a terrible fight and it is between two wolves. One is evil – he is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego.” He continued, “The other is good – he is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith. The same fight is going on inside you – and inside every other person, too.”

The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather, “Which wolf will win?”

The old Cherokee simply replied, “The one you feed.”

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My first Novel will be loosely wrapped around the Native Amercian myths and stories and this Cherokee Proverb captures the essence of what I wish to express for the characters in the story….the working title of my YA Fantasy Novel is “The Thing Under the Bridge”  but I’m sure that is going to change down the line….I plan for my rough draft to be complete by June 30 on the book…you can find an excerpt here for the book…Philp Wardlow

Inquiring Minds, Poetry/Quote of the Week

I wish someone had told me this – Quote of the week by Ira Glass

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Ira Glas Quote

Ira Glass is an American public radio personality, and host and producer of the radio and television show This American Life

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

Just in Form – A Poem

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Just in FormLines

My eyes linger a little too long,

as they dilate to drink her in.

Would I cut them out,

I would still remember her perfectly,

every line, every curve, every niche,

the photons press against her flesh

to bounce off to land upon my own.

But I am not her demon,

I am not her love,

I am nothing.

I will be forgotten

once my tribute passes from me

to her.

Why do I care then if my presence makes

an impression?

Why do I care that I see a false front behind

a hope that is slowly slipping away.

Perhaps I care too much

about everyone.

Even her,

who didn’t ask me to,

to see her sad eyes,

where a smile truly never

crept in.

The sensitive child of desolation

lends me my third eye

into her soul.

I need to learn to ignore it

for it never does anyone

any good.

More damages to be had

If my heart should linger

So I will only think of her in form,

as lines, and curves in space, to admire

and to put the order of

the world in its rightful place.

By Philip Wardlow 2012

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

The Fool – A Poem and aren’t we all at one time or another.

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TheFool

The Fool

I left my only picture
of you back on the moon.

I guess I’m screwed at ever
thinking I’ll be getting back
there anytime soon.

I could ask you for another,
but your narcoleptic and
you always fall asleep at
the exact moment my
lips form the question,

as if you’re a priest who
doesn’t wish to hear my
confession.

So sorry Mr. Man in Black
with that trace of white at
the neck that always looks just
a little too tight.

My truths are real.
My passions are true,
And my love, ah… well my love
turned me into fortune’s fool
for you.

By Philip Wardlow 2012

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

My Nature – A poem (but not really my nature…really)

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black-hole

My Nature

Like a cosmic sandwich in my hand

I folded space and time

and slipped through to you,

To when you were younger,

innocent, happier, and  ignorant

of your fate cascading towards

you like a deadly comet careening through

a vacuum straight for your heart.

I knew the path you would take around the sun,

a planet on a collision course

that never had a chance to live but

you were so beautiful as you hung there

in the sky…a celestial angel.

Barely out of its primordial soup

from a single celled organism you

were flung to extinction as my

foot first felt the earth.

I am a black hole you see,

for I let nothing escape

when it reaches my event

horizon.

I consume, I devour…

as I did you under that

ancient fall night sky…an eon ago,

with the bright eyes of  a thousand

stars as my witness to

your cataclysmic destructive end.

It is my nature, my make-up and you were

the unlucky one to have

crossed my path.

By Philip Wardlow 2012