Category Archives: Inquiring Minds

My introduction page as a writer trying to get publsihed and a collection of posts showing who I am through ancetdotal musings about my life or how I am inspired to write or why I write and how I write in my own wierd little way.

Why is Snow White the most beautiful?


 

No one is the MOST beautiful. Most and Beautiful do not go together except in the subjective sense. If you believe Snow White is the most beautiful, then she is…if I believe she not the most beautiful, then she is not. Maybe you like her voice and singing…I do not….maybe you like her fair skin and dark hair color, and I perhaps prefer a blonde with a tan. Maybe I prefer a girl with muscles who takes care of herself in a fight, and you prefer a damsel in distress. With no prejudices behind it , maybe I think Cinderella is prettier….Beauty in something is a personal thing with many layers at times ….preferences that speak to you. Even something “ugly” can be beautiful…simply because it speaks to YOU.

Simple as that.

by Philip Wardlow July 2020

What is meant to Be


 

 

She’s a fiery one,
that Red, a true warrior,
if there ever was one to grace
my path.

She carries with her a lighted voice
honed by a heavy, passionate
empathetic, mystical heart
pumping true,
so be wary
of her tongue
when directed at you,
best you go run and hide little man
while you still can.

She won’t say sorry
when she feels the truth
of a moment deep in
her bones,
but all the same
when they turn away
not seeing their own blame,
she will shed a tear,
for every battle for her
against those she loves
is always a loss.

Apathy, ignorance, and
a darkness
sinks deeps within many
a soul she might call
friend or family, and it’s a
cold, cold day
when she has to
bring that kinship
to its’
final end.

The backlash cuts deep
shoves her
moves her
to stay,
to do,
to be heard
to fight
to show the world that
you can’t shut her up
She will tell you what you
need to hear.

It was always meant to be so for her,
for she has always
been a Warrior.

by Philip Wardlow July , 2020

You think you have me all figured out


A man tells me he knows me,
has me all figured out.
He has got me all encapsulated
in a little box
Man, I don’t even know me,
so how do you?

So please just shut up
just shut the fuck up
Telling me I shouldn’t see color
Shit man, I can only be blind to color
once the world allows me to be blind to it.

I am black, I am a brown, I am white,
whatever shade you would like,
whatever hue, whatever tone,
please ascribe.
Define me, ridicule and deride me,
you will never know the true me
beneath my skin let alone
what’s in these old bones I call my home
because you haven’t held them
and walked in ’em
feeling the full weight
of ’em.
You haven’t begun
to figure me out
But you will one day
as will I.

by Philip Wardlow

May the Journey you Take


Let us all embark on an adventure in our lives,
no matter the fog that shrouds our path,
tread with eyes seeing, stalwart in nature,
as we find the lightness in
every rich discovery that
we may be lucky enough to unearth
on our grand journey
in the magical realm
called you.

by Philip Wardlow June, 2020

Clarity comes to Us All Eventually


Am I such a threat,
such a fear to you?
That my place in this world
must be abated and subdued?

Do you fear me less
when I articulate
myself better than you
or do you fear me
more, in certain circles,
because I am finally
on to you, and I know
just what to do,
to make it all
untangle.

You try and wrangle my words
and even my thoughts to
fit your disposition, as if
by smiling at me, it will cause
me to smile back
in submission.

First you blinded me,
then asked me why I was blind,
then stole the cane
from my hands, struck me, stripped me
then tripped me,
sending me on down the
road, to do my time.

Yet I endured, and even though blind,
I saw with a clarity
greater than the sighted man,
ever could
and came to pity him
and the thought processes
he called an enlightened mind.

Pitied him for the man he
thought he was.
Pitied him for the dark legacy
he had wrought
and the future
to come from it.

Pitied him that he would
never know a moments rest

Pitied him because anger was
all he knew.

Pitied him for the surety of
his place in this world
and at his disappointment
when his end finally came
and my tolerate
smile turned
into
a triumphant grin

by Philip Wardlow June 2020

Two Sides to Me


I was told today to be decisive.
I was told today that my response
to stopping racism was the typical
answer that would never work and
has never worked.

I was told that my ideals were not enough

You don’t think I want to do a Boston Tea Party
on all their asses,
to burn and pillage, boycott and tear down
all the apathetic institutions and cold corporations that
turn a blind eye to the
many colored man,
to turn my back on authority while giving the middle
finger to it all?

Fuck yes. Every damn day.

Yet, I don’t want my world to burn
around me even though
it burns from within.

I don’t want a black old man crying
in the streets because his
business burned to the ground.

I don’t want a white old man
bleeding profusely after
being knocked to the ground.

I don’t want death, I don’t want destruction.
I don’t want hate. I don’t want fear.
I want compassion
I want cooperation
I don’t want division
I don’t want disdain
I want respect.
I want justice.
I want inclusion.
I don’t want any more Martyrs
for the cause.

There has never been indecision in me,
only the resolve
for all the world
to finally
wake the fuck up.

by Philip Wardlow June, 2020

The Dark Forest


dark-forest-water-artwork-wallpaper-preview

Jump in the river and let it carry you out of the dark forest you are in…

Who cares where it flows if you are already lost….

Fearing anything is inevitable,
so face it headlong at a dead
run.

I hear most outcomes cause
you to grow beyond what you
thought of as a once heeled truth,
allowing you to leave that dark forest
far behind,
as you continue
to flow on, and on, and on.

By Philip Wardlow May, 2020

 

 

I like the Way


I like the way
she casually calls me Darling
to get my attention
from across the room.
It makes me smile inside
in the nonchalant way
she shows her love for me.
I like the way
she trusts in me to protect her
in any instant,
Hand in mine, anytime;
on a dark street or
in a crowded room.
Even though it saddens me,
I like the way she says
she wants to go before me,
because she says she’s not strong
enough to see me go.
I like the way
we create together these
small places of paradise,
thrown like sand on the wind to drift and drift as we
waft in the hours, minutes, and
lazy seconds
of each other’s company
with no thought of tomorrow.
I simple like the
many ways of you
as I always have
since the very
start of us.
by Philip Wardlow  May , 2020

Skin Hunger


If you had told me I would have
yearned for a simple handshake,
months from now,
I would have scoffed at such a silly notion.

If you would had said a hug from
a loved one was a distant memory
and that only through dreaming in bed
at night could such an implausible embrace happen,
I would have laughed in your face.

No light touches, no manly shoulder to shoulder hugs,
no holding hands, no fist bumps,
no incidental brushing of skin against
skin in the everyday going on
of life.
None of that.

I am bereft and unaware of the warmth
or coldness of a cheek or simple palms of another,
stolen is the smile behind
a mask that might have touched my soul
as they looked my way in the incidental
happenings of a mere
day.

There is a gnawing
Deep
A pang
Inside
Screaming
A hunger
threatening to consume
To feel
To know
the innocent
intimate
touch
of another.

by Philip Wardlow, May 12th, 2020