All posts by Philip Wardlow

Philip Wardlow is a burgeoning ever growing writer and poet delving into all the various aspects of the human condition. His writing tastes run to the Erotic most recently. In the recent past he has written to the Dark Urban Fantasy & Horror Genre which he still loves as well. He likes to dabble in all the various forms of poetry; from the sexy to the humorous, to the profound and beautifully sentimental and reflective. He has only been at this chosen path for a few of years and has produced one Novella published as an Ebook on Amazon called “Roadkill”. He has submitted and continues to submit various stories and poetry works to publications for consideration. Philip is working on a collection of Erotic Poetry due out in 2021 in ebook form and perhaps in paperback. He is also concurrently working hard on his other passion; photography. Philip believes he can have each foot planted in two distinctly different worlds of creativity there by inciting new ideas and growth at the same time in both.
Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

I dream

Leave a comment

I dream of dumping
the sadness
at the curb for the
trash man to collect
I dream of punching a wall
until my
knuckles bleed out
all the hurt
collected in my
heart that
I can never define.

I dream of jumping into cold, cold water
and finding the funny
in the deepness of life
Laughing at redeemptive jokes
over and over
of life sagas played
out by man.
Being seen and not being seen
being alone to think
or sharing a moment
with another that
sees life exactly as
I do.
I dream of communicating a thought
in it’s entirety by
just sending it to
someone.
Going home through time and
seeing my father
hearing his voice,
knowing his face
again.
Laughing with my brothers
cooking with my mother
I dream of a
peace to finally
find the me
that resides
within.

by Philip Wardlow 2019

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

Every thing Gets Old?

2 Comments

“What value do you see in me?

In my melodramatic melancholy,
I answered her,
Everything gets old.
Time leaps and bounds like a
jackrabbit down the street
never to be seen
never to revisit.
It ain’t coming back.

The new is old, the shiny dull.
Promises forestalled
for yet another day still biting
yet to come to be called old
also.

Motivation is a nag that
won’t shut up,
blah, blah, blahing
about a when that
shuns and hugs
all in one.

But you, sweet Red,
are nature incarnate,
imbued with a compelling
visceral beauty,
wild, free,
ever evolving
ever charming
your way into my heart
with a sustaining
magic
that roots
deeply to
the core of me

Time only solidifies
that connection
and brings to light
that newness
upon every turning
of the page
in the story
between
you and I that
will be a beautiful
adventure if not
funny book
to read
one day.

by Philip Wardlow 2019

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

Happy Happens

Leave a comment

I can’t make you happy
and you can’t make me.
Happy happens
independently
Stop missing the moments
when you could have
noticed.
And I’ll stop missing
my own.
But by my side
is where I want you
cuz happiness
is always better
shared.
And your smile, your laugh,
your touch
compliments
and fits
like a neat little
puzzle piece
into my
very soul.

by Philip Wardlow 2019

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

Outside the Something

Leave a comment

7.7 Billion
and counting
Of them all,
tell me,
am I Outside or
in?
Cuz, I feel like
something’s wrong
when the Outside
feels like my home
when the Something got their groups
cliques, committees, each
of them knowing the others
favorite songs.
Something to call theirs
and theirs alone.
Right or wrong
they got theirs
and theirs are,
mad strong
numbering in
the thousands, hundreds, tens
I’m not even looking for all
that
hell I’ll take just three
like minded souls
similar to me
I am betting nothing
can beat such intimacy
but I’m
Outside the Something
and it
feels fucking
lonely.

by Philip Wardlow 2019

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

My Muse beckons

Leave a comment

My Muse,
she sits upon
yon shore, across dark waters flowing,
serene and smiling with invitation,
red hair blowing
in the same direction
as the wide deep river
does go.

I find I lack the courage
to traverse such a feat, for fears
take hold of the mortal
man in me.

This side is good,
she whispers from across the waves,
full of life, stars, and wonderment.
Won’t you come over
for I know you will enjoy it too,
It’s where your soul will thrive
and come alive
as I sit by your side on the
riverbank of life,
exalting in all that
there is.

I look away,
avoiding her gaze
The river is strong and a
torrent of a task to cross
and nature has created a coward of me.

Oh, but her sweet whispers reach
my ears, speaking of mysteries,
of love, of magic and mischief.
The core of my being
smiles inside
at the bright,
light of potential
in those whisperings
of all that could
be.

So I turn to her
my red, red Muse
and smile as I dive in.
Cold water clutching,
I surface
stroke after stroke,
kicking and fighting
I beat the water with
a fury, setting
up a rhythm it cannot
ignore.

All the while I hear,
pulling
her words.
That wonderful self
never ceasing
until I reach the
far shore
Tired,
but alive,
fears cast
aside
as I fall
into my Muses
loving
embrace.

by Philip Wardlow 2019

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work, The EROTIC ZONE

Nocturnal Submissions

Leave a comment

 

Delicate ivory lace
caress
soft curves
as ripples of silk
envelope
a yearning body
seeking
sustenance by a strong hand
taking her
in a wanting night.

Giving over to him
she flies to the other
place,
that azure blue
space
of soul
cleansing
euphoria.
sprinkled with
non-stop explosions
of magenta and scarlet.

This is her forever home
in his arms
in his heart
in his desires
forever
more.

by Philip Wardlow

Inquiring Minds

Why doesn’t God give a sign to those who keep asking for a sign in order to believe?

2 Comments

 

Reasons why:

1. He/She/It  Doesn’t exist

2. He/She/It Doesn’t give a damn

3. He/She/It is  not as omniscient as you think,  so  can’t hear you praying cuz He/She/It is busy doing something else in The Universe

4. He/She/It  can’t affect your life even if He/She/It wanted to

5.  He/She/It does give signs but you cant or won’t see them

6. Some nefarious or non-nefarious entity has locked him/her/it  in some strange dimensional prison where He/She/It has no way to affect  the Universe

7. Perhaps giving you no sign at all was part of the plan in the first place.

8. Perhaps He/She/It is dreaming all this up, you, me, the Universe and will wake up, making  us all go poof!

9. Perhaps I am God giving you a sign RIGHT now, telling you to stop looking for outside courage and hope but instead find it in yourself and in others and sincerely strive for change and by just trying it is enough, win or lose,  in the limited life you have left on this blue ball called Earth traveling at over 70,000 miles/hr through space, spinning and spinning…and to  just try to fucking enjoy it the best your can ,  Good or bad.

 

 

 

by Philip Wardlow 2019

Inquiring Minds

Send your Kid to TrumpCamp its an adventure!

Leave a comment

 

Trumpcamps are facilities  where Immigrant Children ranging from 5 months old to 17 years of age go to linger in their own filth and stench.

They are not giving means to wash their clothes, brush their teeth, clean their bodies, properly eat, given time to go outside,  or being taken care of medically overall.

7 to 8 yr old children are being  directed by the guards and supervisors of the facility to take care of children as young as 5 months old who are also  not part of their family.

350 Children are “housed” in a facility with a capacity of only 100.

They live in cages on a thin mattress on a hard floor bunched in cages with little to no privacy from those they are caged with or from the guards not more than foot away outside their cages with guns at their holster.

I.C.E. and Homeland Security are breaking the LAW.

72hrs is the maximum time mandated by law under the George Bush Jr era for  processing these immigrants and moving them on to a better Housing environment or with a family living in the U.S.

These children stay in  horrendous conditions for weeks to months.  Some are malnourished . There has been lice and flu outbreaks left to grow unchecked.

Now the Department of Justice lawyers are making light of the conditions and actually defending the outrageous inhumane treatment done to  the children.

I say again, its inhumane in regards to  what the US Government….OUR Government is doing to them. We are paying for this to happen to these children out of our own tax money.

It’s time to say enough is enough.

The children are suffering.  Simple as that. Children are suffering at OUR  hands and yet we do nothing. This goes against every thing the US stands for.

Speak out. For we are the Government  not the governed. The Senate, the Congress and the President work for us.

We are not obligated to just bow our heads and say nothing.

 

by Philip Wardlow June 25th, 2019

* please reblog if you could , repost, copy, share in all forms of social media in your own way at your disposal. I have already shared this on Instagram, and Facebook and now here. Our voices do matter, never think they don’t.

 

 

GiFs for your Entertaiment, Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

Summer Haikus

Leave a comment

Summer Haiku#1
Oppressive heat beats
As beads of sweat trickle down
With cannonball smile

 

 

Summer Haiku#2
A light wind catches
Flowered dresses as sun shines
Upon freckled skin

 

 

 

Summer Haiku#3
Lazy shade leaning,
just me and my maple tree
as the clouds creep by

 

 

Summer Haiku#4
Ice cream, ice cream! Run!
Melodic music enthralls
One fudgesicle please!

 

 

Summer Haiku#5
Hiss, Sizzle, Hiss
Burgers percolate on grill
As beer cans crack wide

 

 

 

 

Summer Haiku#6
Go Mosquito, go!
Must you infest sublime time?
Swat, slap, smack, no mo!

 

 

 

 

by Philip Wardlow 2019