Monthly Archives: September 2016

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

For the wasps to feast by Candice Louisa Daquin

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Three hours unflinching on eiderdown turning cream pages sound of cat lifting window screen bending back in yogic form escaping house in black and white yawn to hunt the marigold colored birds maki…

Source: For the wasps to feast

 

MOST DEFINITLY READ THE REST OF THIS MOST EXCELLENT POEM by one of my Published writer friends on WordPress! 

 

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

Mirage in You

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What shall I say of the mirage in you.

Bright eyes, delicate soul,

with tenacious heart

beating,

Blood running, spilling.

(or was it alligator tears)

It wasn’t until I slipped, did I finallymirage

read the sign, “Be careful, wet floor.”

You think too much of yourself

and not nearly enough

All IN or ALL OUT.

Absolutes seem to be your trademark.

You are perfection.

You are lovely.

You are alone.

And you like it like that. ( no you don’t)

Mirages are only real to the person

observing, not the mirage  itself.

It knows its not real.

Then you

suddenly

disappeared.

 

by Philip Wardlow 2016

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work, The EROTIC ZONE

I will

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Art by Pino Daeni
Art by Pino Daeni

I will not like everything you do

but I will still like you.

I will not love the moods you

fall into but I will

still love you.

I will see you as you are;

imperfect, unpolished, lost

but I will still take your hand

and squeeze it, letting you know I am

right there with you on that path.

I will laugh when you laugh, I will cry when you cry

I will hurt when you hurt,

through all the years

that we have left on this earth

I will.

There is beauty in you,

so much beauty

Like a child that sleeps

and dreams

of play and magical places to roam

and beasts to wrestle and hug

I will always be watching

you dream.

 

by Philip Wardlow 2016

 

 

Inquiring Minds, Poetry/Quote of the Week

Star Trek Quotes as part of the Quote of Week

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enterprise

Since it’s the 50 year Anniversary of Star Trek, and I’m a big nerd at times, I thought I would share some quotes from their various shows and movies down through the years that stick out in my mind….:)

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“Infinite diversity in infinite combinations.”  Spock from Star Trek (from Vulcan Philosophy)

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“Someone once told me that time was a predator that stalked us all our lives.  But I rather think that time is a companion who goes with us on the journey and reminds us to cherish every moment because they’ll never come again.  What we leave behind is not as important as how we’ve lived.  After all, Number One, we’re only mortal.”  Cpt. Picard from Star Trek Next Generations.

nstg

“Things are only impossible until they are not.” Cpt Picard to Data

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“After a time, you may find that  having  is not so pleasing a thing after all, as wanting. It is not logical, but is often true.”  Spock (1967)

startrek

 

Space: The final frontier
These are the voyages of the Starship, Enterprise
Its 5 year mission
To explore strange new worlds
To seek out new life and new civilizations
To boldly go where no man has gone before

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

Balances in Extremes

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balance

I’m sick of percentages.

I’m sick of numbers.

I just want to be.

Balance is a just a concept

It is not the key.

 Am I happy?

Am I sad?

Wait. Hmmm ..Let me do the math.

 I’ll have a slice now please.

Wait. I can only have one?

Who the fuck made that rule?

Maybe I want another piece.

 Extremes seem the norm.

 Let me have my highs

My lows

Let me fuck it up and

make it up to you tonight

by giving you a rose.

 The ratio of me to you and what

you mean to my heart cannot be

measured on scales or by a straight

edge ruler set against my life or

torn apart into segmented precise strips

and weighed in a cart to be sent

to auction and bartered for or bought.

 Balance is an illusion that

Fools embrace to make life

Safe and orderly and put in

its place.

 I want to take that ride

Where nothing and everything is possible

And it’s okay…it’s okay

to be that way.

There is no balancing on the

head of a pin, no precarious perch

I have to lend my life to or

Prescribe to until the very

End.

Just let it be

Unfettered, unshackled

Free.

 

by Philip Wardlow

 

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

My Alchemy Persists

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alchemy

I’m trying to capture

a lit bit of magic.

Distill out the mundane,

filter out the impurities,

and infuse a little energy

into this tired body and brain.

You have always been that

catalyst, that additive, that chemical,

or heat to speed the reaction.

Give me just a dash of you and

I will change this lead to gold

or this chunk of coal

to a diamond that

sparkles like your

eyes do.

Your kiss may be the final

ingredient  to the elixir of life

that I have long sought.

Oh how elusive that magic is

at being caught

and wrangled like

lightning in a bottle.

But I am an alchemist, and

with my books, my bottles, my studies

my mythos, my faith, and you…

I shall wrestle with the five mysteries of life;

air, earth, fire, water, and the

elusive aether…

and condense their natures down into

a malleable creature from which

I can ride with you into the night.

 

by Philip Wardlow

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

My Beautiful Dead Girl

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Marionnette

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Haunted eyes

wrapped in misery.

You are already dead,

so why should you feel pain?

 

Pain is your purgatory

little girl, a grand gift

from scales that can never

be balanced in your favor.

 

Haunted eyes they may be,

but I see defiance, strength,

lingering deep, always

ready to rise to the surface.

 

Never did death look so beautiful

A perfection in form chiseled

from stone beaten up and torn

down by the elements.

 

You wear your cloak well,

dark and tear stained, wrapped

tight around a body that

still flies free.

 

You are my beautiful dead girl.

with cold hands clenching tight around

a warm heart

that beats just for you.

by Philip Wardlow

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

Los Muertos Walk ( and Dance)

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muertosA

With a dead eyed sneer and tip of his hat, the corpse

of the man shambled  back,

 to his grave before

morning became

too painfully bright.

A body long dead and done

 with a soul withered at the roots

 should not stray

too far from home.

Ah, but he had heard the horns playing

as the music called to him.

“Come dance, come dance!”

So he had, and delighted in the energy

that lay purchase to his desiccated feet

as he flew and flew

to twirl and twirl a lady or two

as a kaleidoscope of colors robed him

and smothered him from Death’s  view

that  could not find him.

When the last note had ended, Death

finally crooked its bony finger.

So, he crawled back into his grave

and let a small smile come to creep

  knowing he would return when the

band called again…

by Philip Wardlow 2016