Wild Child – A poem

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
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



by Philip Wardlow

Krampus Comes !! – A Dark Christmas poem



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


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
















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












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


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,


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


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
Eyes which twinkle yet bore
into yours, wanting
and wanting
and more and more
Damn she’s a chore.
But oh boy, when she asks for
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