Your eyes – A poem







Your eyes ~

Your smile is a lie

Your laugh is a lie

Your mouth is a lie.


But your eyes, yeah,

your eyes,

they never tell a lie.


Look away, look at me at deeply,

look at another, or at

me with disdain.


A broken dirty window to the soul

to climb through into you.

But I don’t wish to get cut.


The rules of you are a fickle thing at best,

written on a chalkboard always soon to be erased

and replaced anew.


Your eyes always give fair warning, like the

lighthouse as it swings around 360 degrees,

as I bob and  bounce in my little boat offshore.


The signal is clear in your gaze

or lack thereof

It’s crystalline blue.

and bright.


And will light my way out of this

maze that is you.


Philip Wardlow 2015


Artist Jeremy Penn with model Jessica Stam











Light at Play – An Erotic Poem

Light at Play ~


I see you hiding there in the sun.
As the light curves around your curvesOpaque
and continues on.
A lovely silhouette,
my little backlit babe.
I would ride the hell out of those hips
and I would not save the
rest for a rainy day.
Shine on, Shine on Mr. Sun…
Her body comes, a slow tortuous
meandering walk my way.
With a smile and a glint in the eye of clever intent.
She is soon
to cum in bed with me.
Let’s fuck and suck and tug and pull
penetrate, and resonant to each
other’s deviant rhythm.
The sun plays on you yet again in a
different context
as the angle of its rays change
throughout the hours that pass
there in that sexual playpen
that caress your soft silky skin.
You see the sun?
It wants to touch you as much as I.
Back off Mr. Sun
for she is mine and
mine alone.
Its my day to play.


by Philip Wardlow 2015

Mr. Moon – A poem



Mr. Moon ~


Why oh why Mr. Moon do you walk

hands in pockets, eyes downcast,

as the stars sit in there satin blue sheet,


Don’t you know it’s all for you?

No eyes but yours can see

all that the sky can give.

Feel blessed in this.

Earthly trappings are not the

core of your constance.

Nor the phases you

endure in your

soul’s search

for permanence.

Even in shadow,

yet you are still whole.

Even though no others

may see.

You will always be whole.


by Philip Wardlow 2014

Music lets Roll – A poem

Music ~


Ride Ride that wave that cascades down your soul and over that mind in quarter time…flow flow…and juxtapose that tapping of those feet with that beat in the bass…let me see that smile shine as your teeth flash in a wicked grin …let the sweat pour down as you thump and bump…dance dance and ride ride that wave that rolls ….as you never ever have reason to complain when the music comes to stay stay stay….now play boy play!


Philip Wardlow 2014





My finger, one finger
traces down her temple
over her sweet cheeked smilejar
eyes lighted
just for me
just for me…

So many emotions
behind that smile for me

I must take each of them that
I discover and put them in their own mason jar
and screw the lid down tight
for safe keeping.

To preserve
what surely will be lost.

For you see, we are all delicate

This environment is not kind
to such fragile creatures.

But I wonder.
What is ever meant to last?

I reach for one of the mason jars
and take it down off upon the shelf,
unscrew its top, and tip
its’ contents into my waiting mouth.

I smile and reach for another.



by Philip Wardlow 2015

She – a Poem

She ~

She’s beautiful… not oh, look at her pretty face I want to fuck her beautiful.

Of course I would in any angle and position I could put her in.

But beautiful like an explosion of all the senses that she touches in you.

From your heart to your hand which finds all her release points.

Her eyes that find yours across the room , wanting nothing else but to please…

She’s beautiful in the way that leads you to want to wrap around her like a blanket .

She’s an addiction, an affliction a contradiction at the apex of her attraction

She’s trouble.. oh so much trouble

but the good kind you want to unwind

and let spin and spin and spin

She is simply a connection, a puzzle piece,

that missing part that you didn’t know

was apparently needed

to make your soul complete.

watercolor by Steve Hanks

By Philip Wardlow 2014

Embers in Transition – A poem

BurningPassion Embers in Transition ~

My nature has always been as bright embers…

clumped,  low and smoldering

always smoldering within me.

Never roaring, never a  conflagration

never wanting to burn bright,

to consume and conquer.

A fearful ball of flame, apprehensive

of overreaching its borders,

Self constrained and wrapped tight.

Hidden and held down.

I’m burning up.

layer by slow layer from the inside.

I need to let it trickle out

and let the air in.

Feed it,

give it what it wants….

So it can truly burn like

it has always wished

it could

From without.

by Philip Wardlow 2014