World Ranger Day 2014

Fight for Rhinos

rhino with ranger Photo: Lewa Wildlife Conservancy

Where would our rhinos, elephants, tigers, gorillas, and other animals be without rangers?

KWS rangers line up Photo: KWS

Putting their lives on the line each and every day…it’s not glamorous or prestigious, it’s tough.

Sometimes it’s downright deadly.

But without these brave men and women, extinction would be a reality. Poaching would run rampant, chaos would ensue.

ranger with gorilla Photo: Paul Moore/AFP

Through darkness, heat, rain, and cold, these souls persevere.

Treading carefully through danger, they protect what we all cherish.

So today, on World Ranger Day, we salute them.

I want to be a ranger Photo: unknown

We acknowledge their efforts and dedication; we also remember the fallen, whose families made the greatest sacrifice.

Each day we pray for your safety and from the bottom of our hearts, we thank you!

Show your appreciation by participating in our campaign:


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Rangers: the Frontline on the Rhino War

Fight for Rhinos

Wealthy Asian businessmen , airport seizures of horn and ivory, silent apathy from politicians, ongoing heated trade debates…a ferocious circle surrounding and depleting our rhinos and elephants. Yet, at the center of it all, on the blood soaked savanna stand the rangers.

Kws monument 2 The monument outside of KWS headquarters honors the fallen rangers.

Under the blazing sun or in pouring rain, no weekends or holidays, for little pay and high stakes-they are the only real obstacle standing between the poachers and the rhinos.

Often outgunned and outnumbered, each day is war. In Kenya hundreds of rangers have been shot in the last 3 years, and 13 killed.

A recent report from the Kenyan government sited “low morale” as being a huge problem in the bush for the Kenyan Wildlife Service rangers.

Is it any wonder?

Leaving their families for long periods of time, not knowing if they will see them again, often met with distrust and dislike…

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Eeyore’s quiet Sad Rage – A poem


This poem is for all those who have ever felt left out, unloved, neglected, uncared for or ever underappreciated…we all have been Eeyore  at least once in our lives I am imagining –





Eeyore’s quiet Sad Rage –


Pooh has Piglet, tight friends to the


Roo has his mum and oft’ times Tigger’s

bouncing annoying presence.

Rabbit has his attitude of


and Owl, his arrogant wisdom

as he sits in his tree.

Christopher Robin visits, but rather


The Hundred acre woods are a lonely place for  a donkey.

Thistle only comforts so much.

The wind whistling through the trees

is a pale companion.

I have much poetry to recite,

much I wish to say, hugs I wish to share

and smiles to give.

Perhaps my worth shall be found

one day by eyes

that see more than past the noses

on their own heads.

Until then I will meander and mope

because that is what is expected

of me.


by Philip Wardlow 2014














Library Fantasy – An Erotic Poem


Library  Fantasy –


Black spectacles perched upon her cute little nose,
hair done up in a bun with neck exposed,
tight skirt that falls just shy of the knees,
she is civic in her duties as she gives me
a smile that beckons to pursue a little
light reading.

I spy her shelving books upon the shelf,
A wish comes to mind to take her behind those
shelves and fuck her in a pile of soft paperbacks.

Preferably fantasy or science fiction,
Yes, I’m a nerd like that.

I want to stroll over and grab a
nice thin book of poetry and bend
her over my knees  and smack her
bare bottom until Yeats, Frost, or Poe
make her release an earth shattering moan.

Shh…please I’m trying to read.

She will kneel in front of me as I
lounge in my reading chair.
She will hand me a book to peruse as
she unbuttons my pants all the while
giving me a very stern stare.

She will go down on me with lips that
love to talk of bibliographies, bestsellers
and her favorite man named Dewey.

I will whisper to her tales of erotica, and
caress her breasts and nipples with
delicate flutterings from the pages of
my book.

Before her work is done,
she will become very intimate with
and my favorite character,
Don Juan.



by Philip Wardlow



The Summoning – A Silly Short Story – Competition Winner!



Recently I entered a  writing competition  put on by a fellow writer over at her self-titled  blog  Ksenia Anske   She has a massive following with a growing collection of  self-published novels. She’s  a great writer. But don’t take my word for it. Check her out.

Anyways, I entered this contest on a whim and for a challenge. I didn’t expect to win really. But I said what the hell, it will be good for me. I need a kick in the ass every once in while to get me writing the way I should. So I entered. The criteria for the contest was to write a 800 -1000 Word story. And not just any story. It had to be funny and it hand to contain the following.   It had to have something do with magic and you had to reference five things:  a tutu, beer flavored lollipops, an elephant,  a Breathalyzer, a brick and a purse.   YES, no easy task in 1000 Words.

But I did it.  I entered and I won on top of that!  So please take a moment and read my short story below. Also check out the other competitors stories here as well.




The Summoning 



This was a fuckery of the highest magnitude as her grandmother used to say.  The demon was too damn powerful to hold it in the circle for much longer.

He (and I say he loosely because you never really know for sure) was wearing a fedora with a raven’s feather stuck into it. She saw two small horns sticking out through either side of the hat. Silk black pants and a red silk shirt, with oddly enough a small yellow smiley face button pinned to it that simply read “Shit Happens” finished his ensemble. And boy was he handsome. He smiled at them as he had been doing for the last thirty minutes not saying a word. She could feel him pushing at the boundaries of the trap that had been setup in their backyard, testing for a weakness and still sucking on that damn lollipop.

There were no weaknesses.

Susie, one of her other sisters in the coven, had done a beautiful job with the lawnmower. The cut patch of grass was a perfect cut circle with another design of a pentagram cut within and then traced with human blood (their own of course).  Other rune symbols ran near the inside perimeter of the circle and within the pentagram itself.  A weed-wacker and hedge clippers had been used for the smaller symbols.

I wondered idly what flavor lollipop the demon was sucking on.

“Margaret! Stop your day dreaming and shore up your point.”

“Yes, Mother,” Margaret said, looking over out across the circle at the woman she called Mother, who was not her truly her Mother at all.  Mother was naked as the day she was born wearing only a silver necklace which held at the end of it a ruby as red as blood which dangled between her breasts.  Margaret was naked as well, along with her three Sisters who all wore the very same necklace.  Each of them stood just outside at one of the five points where the Pentagram touched the circle.  Margaret bent her will through the red jewel.

“Much better daughter. Be diligent. No meandering of the mind if we are to…”

“Its beer flavored my dear.” the demon said, interrupting the Mother.  “Pabst Blue Ribbon I believe. I do so love a good beer lollipop at a summoning.” The demon turned a wicked smile at Margaret and she shivered. He can read my mind?

“Well of course my dear witch. I wouldn’t be much of an all powerful demon if I couldn’t, now would I? In fact I am getting stronger by the second. Isn’t that right Mother, you feel it don’t you?” the demon said, sneering and turning to her in the circle.

“Shut up, you vile thing…” she started to stay before she couldn’t say any more since she had suddenly turned into an elephant, a small elephant mind you, but still an elephant.  And wearing a yellow tutu with pink polka dots.  It actually looked rather flattering.

Her other sisters were aghast.  Dark short haired little Susie’s eyes went wide and looked ready to run and leave the circle.  The two tall blonde twins, Monica and Harmonica, were besides themselves, both wringing their hands in unison. Margaret had to take charge of the situation. It was up to her now. She was the eldest next to Mother in the circle.

“It’s just an illusion sisters, be strong.  Repeat the binding incantation, now.”  Margaret knew the spell itself would do nothing more than it already had, but it would distract the sisters and give them a focus for the real power behind it. It was all about the will. Always.

“Thrice inter orbis, reus subsido totus, malum pessum…”  they all began to chant together.

Which essentially meant get the hell back in your cage you evil piece of shit…more or less.

Mother suddenly popped back into view, gone was the small elephant and tutu. Margaret found herself missing the little elephant already; it had actually been an improvement as far as she was concerned.

“Thank you daughter for your strength, you others had best take lessons.”

Margaret couldn’t help but swell with a little bit of pride from the compliment. She was thinking being an elephant for a minute or two had taken the edge off her a bit.

“Oh, how I tire of this farce. Let’s be done already. And shut up already with that chanting.” The demon bemoaned, rolling his eyes with arms crossed.

Margaret suddenly found she couldn’t’ talk, as did her other sisters.  For they all had lollipops stuck in the mouths.  Beer flavored lollipops. They weren’t half bad actually.

“Mmm…mmm.”  Margaret tried to say to the demon.

“What’s that my dear I can’t quite hear you?” He smiled wickedly again.

Margaret spit out the lollipop. “Fuck you! By the way, I have something for you.” Margaret cleared her mind totally so the demon could not read it. She bent down and picked up her purse next to her feet.

“We have been saving this for just this moment.”

“What in the nine hells are you talking about witch!”

“Why this, my good handsome demon,” Margaret pulled from her purse a small white brick and held in front of her. “It’s a binding brick”, she said.

“Frances Sebastian Cavanaugh Cornelius Plumpkin, I command you to do our bidding.” with that she hurled the brick directly into the face of the demon hitting him squarely in his handsomely square jaw.

“You found my true name?” the demon whispered looking frightened for the first time.

“Yes Francis.” Margaret said as she smiled wickedly back.

Later that night the police left, being satisfied with the results from issuing all of them a breathalyzer test. It seemed a neighbor had called the cops, accusing them of being drunk and disorderly. They then pulled the oh-so-powerful demon out of the closet and got down to business to ask for some serious witch wishes.




By Philip Wardlow





I was entered



Taken – an Erotic Poem

Taken –
In silent repose in bedtaken
she read.
Night enshrouded her.
Eyes heavy from the day
as sleep was soon to come.
A creaking of the stairs
revealed of his approach
A small kiss goodnight
then to leave again as always…alas
Book put aside as he entered,
his handsome rugged smile
found hers as he approached
A light kiss on full lips
along with his lingering cologne
clinging to his pores
caused her to sigh inside.
Light kiss turned to an insistence
pressure as a rough hand found
her breast…squeezing hard in intention.
Blankets flung back,
quick hands grabbed at panties
pulling them down thighs, to calves
to feet, then off in a flick.
Dark brown eyes dilated to drink her
in like a heady red wine.
Strong hands grabbed at knees forcing
legs open wide,
asking for no permission.
Head dove between thighs
sweetly kissing her other lips.
She bucked and thrashed as
his attentions below
had taken her well in hand.
The dance with tongue so delicate and
He grabbed both her arms by the wrist,
holding them tight at her sides to calm
the body that could not resist
the rising within.
She rode on wave after wave,
with each successive one ever higher.
His ardor had risen complete as his
hardness moved up her thighs
pressing, wanting a deep kiss of its
His eyes found hers as he
entered, sliding into her tight wetness
They moaned in unison at the shared
pleasure as he filled her with him.
Time evaporated for the next
minutes or hours as he owned her.
He was denied nothing as he took
her savagely, pushing and pulling
himself into her.
Biting a shoulder, or her neck, enveloping
a breast with his mouth.
No part of her body was left untouched.
In this instant he lived within her body
This was his domicile to come and go as
he wished.
And she welcomed it all…
by Philip Wardlow 2014

The Santo Mon – A Political Poem

The Santo Mon-  


Yeah Mon…You know the one.

Remember it.
Founded in 1901 by
a rich family full of ambition.

Your grandmother’s mother washed
her linens with one of their first brands
and hung them to dry in the warm
afternoon sun.
ALL, the detergent of the ages.

Other products flew off the shelf.
Who do you think made Coca Cola taste so
Saccharin, supplied by the Santo Mon.
Here, have a drink.

It set them up real good for what was to come.

If your head was aching, grab some Aspirin.
Pop a little salicylic acid to turn that frown
upside down.

Why stop there Mon, because chemicals were theirAgentOrangeDumping
specialty ya know;
DDT, PCBs, Agent Orange by the barrel load.

Ya see, the US government had this little war in Vietnam,
They had this idea that they could keep down the Vietcong
simply by killing off all the foliage mon.

All it did was deprive the good citizens of growing food,
causing them to flee to the city
where they crammed into
the slums by the millions.

The Santo Mon knew the dangers of what he sold, it was all in the notes as the studies showed; what it did to animals surely it could do to us,
cuz we be but animals as well bro.

Those wonderful products broke the bodies of the natives living there
and the vets who came back.

Woe be war, but woe be more the chains you still wear, for it never be over for some.

Misshapen babes born to proud
Papas and Mamas who are already themselves half in the grave.

Kiss your wife dear solider and hug her tight, for something burns inside you and it ain’t
never coming out.

It’s gonna strike
Who knows.

But you will be the fool
to feel Santo cares about your

Don’t hold your breath if you don\’t want to turn blue.
Men in suits;
lawsuits been settled they say,
reparations be done.

Some say it would have been better
to have pissed into the wind to get what
the victims won.

Go about your way,
we be the New Monsanto
all improved.

Our business is growth and nature.
We want to show you the way.
The New Santo Mon only engineers seeds nowadays.

Oh, you haven’t heard that story either?
Well sit down my friend I’ve got a lot
more unpleasant things to say


by Philip Wardlow