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.

The not so long ago


Not so long ago
you once never were.

Your pretty face was
not an image in my head.
You were non-existent;
invisible in my reality.

Then right in front
of me, you shone
like a day
that never knew light.
You popped in gloriously
and I could not look away.

How many turnings of the Earth,
how many cycles of the Moon
have gone by since that fateful date
of our conjunction?

You were magic found that night,
a treasure uncovered, a beacon
in a blanket of fog as
I held you tight,
dancing,
the music playing,
me dissolving into you.

Now you are ever present,
you sit in my mind
Never moving an inch
for I hold you fast in me.
For the lover you are now.
For the friend you will always be.

I like to think on the not so long ago,
when the Universe
brought your brightness
to me, and that I never want
it to leave.

by Philip Wardlow March , 2020

Certain Songs


There are certain songs that you must
listen to the words,
really listen,
while others songs
you can simply tap
a foot to and let your
soul get lost in the rhythm of.
People are like that also;
you either get lost in them
or sit and listen,
really listen, and both ways
are equally important.

by Philip Wardlow Feb, 2020

 

Order is in the Bar


A cold fire burns within and without in the world I dwell in, and they all dance on a pin while I sit wondering why they dance at all, and what tune is playing as they dance, and do they even hear the music that they dance to because it’s god awful.

I press my ear to the wall in my hotel room and I hear their gibbering, muffled words coupled with occasional laughter. The snatches of conversation never seem to come into focus, never revealing anything but more mysteries of a world that I could never truly see. It’s one of lofty laughter and sick sorrows, and fears reflected off a dirty black mirror sucking in all the known. In that room, desires are unfurled, as regrets are thrown to the floor, forgotten, with lessons never picked up and put in their proper place upon the shelf.

Chaos reigns in that room as Order has a left a long time ago and gone for a drink in the hotel bar down below.

I pound against the wall, over and over.

“Hear me!” I yell at the peeling paint.

“See me!” I yell through the thick crumbling plaster.

“Let me into your party!” For I need talk sense to you savages, or at the very least strangle you all completely so I can finally go peacefully to sleep.

The music abruptly stops. The mumbling, murmurs, and gaiety subside.

Have they heard me? All is quiet.

Then there is laughter all around, and a banging back upon my wall as if by a hundred, a thousand, no a million hands, and one clear word shining through it all of being called a “FOOL” right before the music resumes, louder and more raucous than before.

My fists clinch, eyes becoming intense as dark deeds flood every particle of me. Destruction reigns, blood rising as my blue view begins to fade to a pale red creeping to a dark hue.

Then comes a knock at my hotel room door.

I walk over, looking through the peephole and it’s Order, eye to eye with me.

I fling open the door ready to give him peace of my mind.

“I thought you might need a friend,” Order says,  grinning with whiskey in hand as he walks in, bringing all his new found followers, never ending, flowing in, filling my room complete.

Order’s smile is infectious and I smile back as the cold fire within burning  begins to warm.

I laugh loud and hard, bringing out glasses for everyone, filling them, with Whiskey neat, passing them out fast as I fill them

“A toast, a toast” I say, with a flourish of my glass, “To Order, my friend, for your time shall come as will our own, so drink, drink and turn the damn music up and lets have some fucking fun!

by Philip Wardlow Feb, 2020

Her Many Ways


She says she wants to go before me
because she says she’s not strong
enough to see me go.

She often casually calls me darling
from across the room
likes we’ve always been.

She pulls the positive from me
and pushes the negative away that
at times I let invade.

Whether in darkness or light
she takes my hand knowing
I will protect her in an instant

She seeks to know my day
whether it’s mundane or magical,
she seeks the knowing of me.

She often asks what was the best
part of my day, and my answers vary,
but I never say what I should,
that it’s the drive home in knowing
I’m going to see you.

It’s not easy for me to love.
Distance is my friend, for closeness
lets the hurt creep in.

Yet, I wish her close.
I want her near.
I want everything she
has to offer
I want all her tender
ways.

By Philip Wardlow Feb, 2020

The Red Queen


She once sat a throne of bones
and violence, of endings
and beginnings unwinding,
while always seeking a home.

I found her to be funny, frivolous,
fraught, extreme, and sublime
all in a few heartbeats
of a day.

She seeks the happy,
as she delves for the pride inside
of her and the precious life
that resides in the self.

All her shimmer
rides a rail of magic,
all her gold glitters
at the end of a lost rainbow.

Her beauty often touches
on another world,
where mysteries come alive
and mesmerize
only to slowly fade away.

She has made a home of me,
and I am grateful in that
choosing, for there is
no other place I wish
for her to be.

For she will forever in a day
be my Queen.

by Philip Wardlow Jan, 2020

She’s true


Often, it’s hard to trust what’s true,
when it’s wanted so badly it
sometimes leaves you feeling
a damn fool.

I know her love is rich and as
warm as the dark coffee and sweet cream
in my cup.
So I drink her down, down, down
and she picks my tired soul up
from the ground that I had been
laying on.

She’s my Nature, she’s my Sun, a
a field of flowers which clings
to me that I roll in until
the dawn comes.

I can’t catch her lightning, and
wouldn’t want to try,
She’s finally escaped that bottle,
the lids far flung
I’m just trying to keep up
with her escape
as she runs.

I’m not worried,
I know her eyes will always
find me as I know her gaze seeks
only my own.

I love her truly,
as true as she loves
me, and I would be the
fool to ever
wander away from such a
passionate love that
has all my
affections for all the
time that life
has left for us
to be.

by Philip Wardlow 2020

Knowing you


Strange, what a first meeting
is between two
future lovers.
Primal,
at it’s inception
Eyes wide with that
of
the big bad wolf
looking upon
Miss Riding Hood
while all the while
Red is looking over her
shoulder with the same
intensity
The same thirst to dry
up a thousand oceans.
No matter how instant
of a glance, it was there
in both of them,
each knowing
the other
in that captured
moment.
One secret not hidden
amongst all the rest
not known.
Hopefully more to
be divulged
as the knowing
between them
goes
on and on
throughout
the night.

by Philip Wardlow 2019

Love, Lust, In, Out, and the Actual


Speak to me of love?
What do you know of love?

Did it grip you tightly?
Did it have you enthralled?
Did you chase it like a little
kitten chases a ball of yarn
tumbling down a long
flight of stairs never quite
catching up
until it all unravels.
What does a kitten mean to a piece of
yarn anyways?
I will tell you,
absolutely nothing at all.
If you truly wish to know the
secrets of the heart
let’s speak of lust,
love’s lost cousin.
A bewildered child of
aches and unknown needs,
a meandering fool of the flesh
thinking the reality of a moment of
soft penetrating touches
done in the dark
is all their is to
being complete.
But those sweet treats
are only ever
half the nourishment
the soul needs.
I will tell you this,
Love starts as a delicate touch
followed by a delicate word,
followed by a delicate intention,
followed by a delicate action
Over, and over, and over
a cycle never ending
never wanting to end.
Because the feeling
is too sweet,
sweeter than the sweetest
candy
and infinitely more filling
to the ache that sits
inside you.

by Philip Wardlow 2019