Timber! Town Flooded. Beaver ran away.
Six word story Challenge!
Timber! Town Flooded. Beaver ran away.
All posts by Philip Wardlow
Haiku to you too!
Shadows play and ponder why
I stay and slumber
as your hand trembles in mine.
My claim has been staked .
the pace of the world distracts
I wish to relate.
as red pools in the shallows,
heart drips to the floor
as the center shakes off pleas
to honest deceit.
Thoughts on You – A Poem (of an erotic nature)
Thoughts on You
You can tell a lot from a kiss;
anticipation, compassion, violence, elation, a connection,
an erection.
You make looking beautiful look easy babe.
That body is a 9 volt battery I wish to put my tongue to.
I want to kiss every freckle that covers your body;
you know this because you sun yourself
just so you can get a few more before I come home.
I have imagined you naked many times
but you exceed those imaginings a thousands fantasies over what my
mind could grasp once your bra and panties hit the floor.
You touch me in a subtle way;
its enough to tell me you have already fucked me in your head.
Yet still you tease;
bending over in front of me, giving me a backwards glance
along with a sly smile
and telling me to come and get it.
So I come and get it.
by Philip Wardlow 2013
The Incident – A 100 Word Flash Fiction Story
The Incident – Toogli hung from the tree high over head, hidden, looking down through the thick foliage. She had told him to run and not to look back. He was a good son, so he had listened and ran like the wind through the trees. His friends often said he was the fastest. No one could touch him when he was one with the trees. Branch to branch, his soul knew the woods like no other. His mother had taught him well. She would win the day. She would get away. The two legs would be disappointed today.
“Crack!” It rang out clear to his ear straight to his heart.
He had turned back then to the place they had been, just in time to see them dump the limp body of his mother inside the canvas bag and pull the drawstring tight.
The End
Note: Thank you to Josh Mosey for the 100 word Writing Prompt
Quote of the Week
Feeling nostalgic, missing friends I haven’t yet met and ones I used to have..
by Tisha Wardlow
Evil Dead -2013 Remake now out on DVD…my review
Finally saw the Evil Dead Remake tonight on DVD….yeah it took me a while. I was busy okay.
First off, I will start off by saying I loved the original Evil Dead movie when I first saw it so many years ago. You might say it was my very first real Horror movie I ever saw at the movie theatre. I was eleven years old when I saw this movie…ELEVEN! What was my mom thinking when she took me to this thing? I remember my mom running out in horror about forty-five minutes in, and waiting for us in the lobby until the movie had finished.
Quite a movie to see for your first horror movie in a theatre, wouldn’t you agree?
It displayed gore in a whole new facet for me. Splurting and sputtering bloody stumps, talking decapitated heads, grinding of pencils into ankles, raping via foliage. It was a pure physical master piece of horrific damage on display. Besides all that, it was a good story. A fun story. Well fun in the sense that you felt you were there with the characters. You felt what they felt. You were there in the story with them…you felt a part of it. For me, it was a well paced, well choreographed piece of work that made sense in the world you were suddenly thrown into to try and get a grasp on. Great job Sam Raimi.
NOW for the REMAKE of EVIL Dead 2013 version:
I don’t feel I am giving anything away regarding the plot points of this movie as I speak about it here. It’s pretty much similar to the original. A group of five friends find a book of evil in the basement of the old cabin, speak words from the book they shouldn’t, and yes of course call forth an ancient evil, called I think Shaitan. Shaitan possesses one of them soon after. Then all hell breaks loose after that.
I will say that the movie started off good, but started to tank about 30 minutes in for me…bad pacing…and the stilted dialogue…characters were not engaging or realistic for people in how they would normally react to certain situations. Of the five characters only one was interesting with the rest being pretty flat which I don’t think they took full advantage of when they could have. The positive was that there were sometimes unique grotesque ways of inflicted damage upon others…:) same as the original movie had done.
For the remake, unlike the original, you never felt like you were part of the movie. Half the time you wanted to yell at the characters and ask them what the hell are you thinking? And why are you leaving her alone? And why are you leaving her alone…and what the hell are you doing? Why did just she die like that when all the rest had to die a “certain” way. Why did you choose an old rusty chainsaw with no gas over a big machete? C’mon!
Towards the end I had to shake my head at one pivotal plot point that ended with a small twist. Which I thought hey, that’s original, but not coming from him…he’s been an idiot the whole time in the movie. I don’t buy it. If you want to see what I mean then rent it, but don’t buy it. Please, it’s not worth buying.
For a grade I give it a straight B. I was disappointed. I wanted this movie to be on par with the original but it fell very short for me. I hear they may also remake Evil Dead II and perhaps the Army of Darkness movie as well… I hope they do a better job. I was only mildly entertained for the unique goriness of it at times but that was it.
I can watch the original again and the other two in the series many times over. I have no desire to see this one ever again. What does that say?
The Road – A poem
The Road
Like a tornado the ravens circle,
as roadkill litters the highway, sitting in piles by the roadside.
Scurry, scurry little ones,
lest you be picked off.
Your senses are keen but never keen enough.
For who can see
everything;
every act, every thought, every disease,
every evil deed gone awry
or to perfect plan
coming down the road.
Not me.
So be careful little creatures;
look with eyes wide as you cross the dark road.
Be smart.
Be wise.
Be wary.
and perhaps most of you will
survive the night.
by Philip Wardlow 2013
Stuff – A Love Poem
Stuff
I was busy doing stuff when you came upon me…
That smile you directed at me got me thinking about stuff.
Wonderful stuff it was indeed,
especially when you walked away
and your stuff swayed and sashayed.
But what stuff did I have to offer you?
My smile wasn’t as bright, my pockets were bare, my soul not quite right,
I didn’t shine.
Our stuffs didn’t compare.
Yet you smiled.
and all that stuff went away in the instant it was thought.
So we wined and dined, talked and walked
held hands, and kissed on a bridge while the moon hung high.
Later, my stuff came up close to your stuff,
then went into your stuff while my stuff moved all about and around.
Your stuff was monumental.
So I made you my wife.
Such is the stuff
of life.
by Philip Wardlow
Quote of the Day – Perfect
In the cold dead of winter, the homeless man on the city bus yelled out as he sat. “Happiness is a nice warm bus!” I thought idly, how perfect is that?
Deadly Campfire – A poem for all you Campers out there this summer
We abide by the warmth of the fire,
our backs to the cold night woods that surround,
as dark imaginings linger through already mangled minds.
What could it be that terrorizes us this night?
We hear it, for it roams in a circle about us,
raking its claws on the trees in its passage,
brazen and bold in its rustling of the dead leaves
underfoot as it tromps its course.
Heavy breathing speaks of a great beast.
Long ago did our merriment falter and grow
into a cruel sickness within.
Fear is our only companion at this gathering
turned into a mournful wake by nature’s
hidden foe.
Rose was a pleasant girl, bright and full
of light.
She was the first to go.
Harold never had a chance as it took him.
I have his blood splattered across my clothes.
I shall miss them both.
Max was next, with his silly stupid grin,
as it’s claws raked his face off.
Julie cried and cried, and held tight to
her log, but still she died as it took her
and that piece of rotten wood.
Sylvia and I stare into the embers,
clinging to each other and a reality
that no longer resides.
Once there were six,
now only two.
My beautiful Sylvia, my love, my life.
Yet still I feel no remorse as I throw
her to the creature and began to run… 
**********************
by Philip Wardlow 2013
Ain't no rest for the Wicked - Philip Wardlow - The real and the sensual sides to life in all its facets.. 