The Reader
Monthly Archives: January 2015
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
Light at Play – An Erotic Poem
Light at Play ~
I see you hiding there in the sun.
As the light curves around your curves
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
Primal – A small poem
She draws me in her with nature….pulling, ever pulling…a primal pulsing…building, ever building within me. I must unleash it all on her because her own soul demands it ….she needs to be sated….fed and the wolf rises and races to her to feed also…
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,
surrounding?
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
Perishable
Perishable~
My finger, one finger
traces down her temple
over her sweet cheeked smile
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
things.
Perishable.
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.
By Philip Wardlow 2014
Embers in Transition – A poem
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
Ain't no rest for the Wicked - Philip Wardlow - The real and the sensual sides to life in all its facets.. 