My appetite


 

spectactular

She comes home

and does what she wants.

Does what? We don’t know.

She wont say.

But it’s not much,

because she’s cut off and closed away.

Far and in-between the what-if

of her.

She is a melancholy angry mess

I can’t put my thumb on her

and she’d break it if I tried.

But I do, because I can, and she lets me pry;

however reluctantly,

because that’s all I have ever done.

I speak the truth, because lies are boring vicious things.

Even though the truth is often painful

as a motherfucker,

it’s freeing,

casual and a sweetness

rolled into a ball and

swallowed down

that speaks to my

appetite.

Which always

hungers.

 

By Philip Wardlow 2016

 

Mini-Poetry of Many Flavors


 

 

dress

Mischievous

Her dress unraveled

Falling slowly, suddenly,

clothed now only  in a grin

to mirror my own.

****************

tenor

Perspective

Circling,  ever circling

around and around

eyes shaded to what is, what was,

what might be.  When all

we needed do was to stop and leave

this fun house to truly see , and never

buy a ticket again.

**************

cookiecat

Cookie Cat

Oh fat cat, where

did that last cookie go?

Do you suppose

it went down

that big  mouse trap of a mouth?

I’m thinking so.

************

shadowplay

Shadow Play

Kill your shadow

before it kills you.

Your shadow doesn’t lead.

You lead you.

A Do Over?


timetravel

If you could,

set a coordinate in time and space.

Push a button. Click…

and in a flick

of an eye lash or

the time it takes

for a humming bird’s heart

to beat just once.

You’re there.

Beside yourself, in yourself

telling that old new person,  who’s just

starting to breath life into their lungs,

To Think.

You would hesitate, that younger state.

For an instant, in listening to the older.

But, you would still follow through;

for their is no do over, no amending.

no take backs.

Time is a tricky bastard, giving and taking

in all the wrong places.

So you float, waiting.

Anxiety of the day always building.

Until it all unravels to reveal

the mystery of those moments in obvious hindsight

as pieces of you  fall through an aperture

to allow only minute grains

for you to view.

Bit by bit, little clues to life why

a person such as you or I might exist.

So travel ever forward, explore.

And try just a smidgeon to listen

to that future self when they

tell you not to fret.

 

 

By Philip Wardlow 2016

 

 

 

 

 

I could Never


thekiss_starwars

 

I could never have chosen a more difficult woman.

Defiant brown eyes always challenging,

yet soften when I lean in with just the right words

whispered in your ear.

I may be scruffy but I know you secretly

like a man with a little hair and to warm

your hands with my own.

So, I will give you my best grin and tell you

I’ll swing by in the Falcon at eight

and we will travel to Dathomir

for a wild and fun filled date.

And never mind what Lando says,

for he’s just a Rogue  like me.

They can’t be trusted;

unless you have stolen their heart.

Know that you have, even

as you push me away to pull

me in tight.

I know you need a good kiss

and I have many to lend.

For I could never

leave you wanting

Unless it was all according

to my devious plan…. 🙂

 

 

by Philip Wardlowfalcon

 

 

 

 

 

 

I play


faun-and-nymph-by-sydney-long

She knows not that I watch her soul

smiling idly out behind eyes blue flecked

with bits of gold.

I play a light and airy tune with wood and wind

Nestled deep in forest glen,

Just for her, as always promised.

Notes ride the air,

seeking purchase within her mind to push aside

a raven’s deep abiding dark claim.

For there resides a tumultuous churning,

ever undulating

as I try and intertwine

and weave, a melody

with my fool’s flute,

dipping an octave or

two going in.

Delicate…invisible…searching.

Enveloping.

Again, I spy your smile sneak out

as my delving takes.

And a shadow or two

that was once another you

loosens it purchase

and takes flight.

 

by Philip Wardlow