Category Archives: Poetry Work

A collection of various poems I have written in relation to horror, fantasy or the supernatural

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

The Marvel of a Marble

March 9, 2016 Philip Wardlow Leave a comment

The Marvel of a Marble~

Your body, so lithe and light;

it floats effortlessly,

like a ghost lightly traversing an open space.

Pirouetting, arms flung, delicate hands in pose

All for show; for your spirit is not sovereign.

It wears a weighted vest, zipped tight.

Gravity bears down, in its

responsibility to do its part

in the relativity of all things

of keeping that piece of you

controlled….limited….reduced

and compliant.

Structure, and rules

and useless fears need not apply, yet they

do with you.

A marble rolling along a curve

may call its path predetermined

unless it chooses to jump the ledge

it glides upon.

So jump, oh glorious marble

Jump!

And find that distinctive dance

where vests are flung, and feet move of a volition

not prescribed by a choreography

found strange to your mind’s eye.

Jump! oh glorious marble, Jump!

And find where you might

finally land.

by Philip Wardlow 2016

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

A Storm of Crows

March 3, 2016 Philip Wardlow 7 Comments

A Storm of Crows ~

Death has visited you, a hair’s breath of a fingertip;

yet a caress not placed.

She stared longingly and then flitted away.

You felt her. Didn’t you?

Now, where ignorance was once rooted,

fear remains fixed.

Where a true smile did reside,

now only a tumultuous dark blue sea.

For you see, you think that is all for you to see.

Push, push, push it down.

But it bubbles up and it makes you wonder why.

Will there be pain? A forever Darkness ?

A release? The End of ends? Where will I go?

Anywhere? Nowhere?

Shall I just dissolve into nothing?

Death came, it did indeed.

In a storm of crows she rode on the winds of fate.

Neither bleak nor sweet.

That has always been her way.

No malice or malcontent.

For her duty is simply to carry you away.

Not to think of things of nonsense.

In a life yet here and now.

by Philip Wardlow 2016

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work, The EROTIC ZONE

In your pants

March 3, 2016 Philip Wardlow 5 Comments

Romance exists,

just as much as bullshit exists,

to get into those tight pants you’re wearing,

but I want to stay and help with the laundry

and fold those pants with you later.

by Philip Wardlow 2016

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

Shackles

March 1, 2016 Philip Wardlow 6 Comments

Do you feel them?

The shackles.

They chafe and bruise.

Pull against, and they pull back.

Invisible.

Tangible yet they be.

For they have a weight,

a bite…

a substance,

of the foulest metal known to man.

Strong….

welded upon your wrists

For there is no key.

Yet you walked into

them willingly

Inserted hands,

clasps closed.

Acetylene torch bright

heat burning

Skin blistering.

Hands plunged

into cold water

to quench and

strengthen the binding.

Shackles fade from sight

scars heal,

All to the naked eye.

By Philip Wardlow 2016

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

Blue light special

February 24, 2016 Philip Wardlow 2 Comments

It’s okay to try and sell yourself

buts its ridiculous to put a spinning blue light on your head

while sitting in the middle of the bar…

by Philip Wardlow 2016

policeblue

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

Matterfactly

February 24, 2016 Philip Wardlow 3 Comments

DarkMatter

The universe is composed of matter everywhere,

visible and invisible interacting on levels we don’t comprehend just yet

…so you do matter.

by Philip Wardlow 2016

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work, The EROTIC ZONE

Shake it

February 24, 2016 Philip Wardlow 5 Comments

I wanted fries with that shake baby,

(she pulls out an order of medium fries from her cleavage)

(I take them)

Thanks, you may continue shaking.

(nom nom nom)

Any ketchup in there?

by Philip Wardlow 2016

FriesKetchup

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

Bubble People

February 18, 2016 Philip Wardlow 5 Comments

Bubble

They bump along in their bubbles…

with all their different colors

at times comingling…a bright red meeting,

a dull blue or electric yellow sliding along a prim’s

purple slick skinned surface

grazing against, just ever so.

Electric, crazy, frenzied, varied, morphic, erotic

Dare I say fun? Yet…the bubbles eventually move on

Some in sadness…some not giving a shit….beep bopping

away in a rush.

Or they simply just

POP!

By Philip Wardlow 2016

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

Just a Crazy Dream …

February 12, 2016 Philip Wardlow 4 Comments

I checked into Motel Sadness and sat down my bags of discontent.

The mini bar was stocked well, so I grabbed the gin and mixed the tonic of my life, crushed in my Lemon Eyes, raised my glass, gave a toast, telling them all I was Sorry for ever crossing their path.

I downed that motherfucker in one gulp and prepared another,
and another, and another… for the Heart heart head of thoughts that were sure to come.

The day disappeared as night consumed, wrapping me up like a A Bolt from the Blue. I laid there. Just laid there until she came. I heard her jimmy the lock of my life and Desire walked on through. She was high, and not very lady like as she straddled me,
high heels digging, she whispered with the reddest lips wrapped in a wicked grin,

“I really want you to hate me, Cuz I’ll never love you baby”. Then she got up and walked out to join a passing Parade.

So I got up….left my room and I ran and ran, like a child wild in a playground
down a street with no shadows; even though the street lamps cast
a deep sodium glow.

It seems I can’t even entice a dark silhouette to accompany me. Make a Shadow I intoned Make a Shadow so I dove, into a dumpster deep, and mingled with the garbage heaped, and fell fell fast asleep.

The Morning after came and the bears were rummaging, waking me from a better world
not so obscene.

I couldn’t face the ground with its vicious disregard to support so I climbed and climbed up the fire escape to the tippity top of the tar covered roof, sticky from the bright midday sun and jumped.

The dust flew from wings in full extension as a Feather floated to the alley below but I was light and I went up; on currents caught, finally realizing I was free.

Go….

Go…

Said my soul, Go

be that beautiful Monster they all believe you to be.

by Philip Wardlow 2016

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A Storm of Crows ~

Share this:

Romance exists,

just as much as bullshit exists,

to get into those tight pants you’re wearing,

but I want to stay and help with the laundry

and fold those pants with you later.

Share this:

Share this:

It’s okay to try and sell yourself

buts its ridiculous to put a spinning blue light on your head

while sitting in the middle of the bar…

Share this:

The universe is composed of matter everywhere,

visible and invisible interacting on levels we don’t comprehend just yet

…so you do matter.

Share this:

I wanted fries with that shake baby,

(she pulls out an order of medium fries from her cleavage)

(I take them)

Thanks, you may continue shaking.

(nom nom nom)

Any ketchup in there?

Share this:

They bump along in their bubbles…

with all their different colors

at times comingling…a bright red meeting,

a dull blue or electric yellow sliding along a prim’s

purple slick skinned surface

grazing against, just ever so.

Electric, crazy, frenzied, varied, morphic, erotic

Dare I say fun? Yet…the bubbles eventually move on

Some in sadness…some not giving a shit….beep bopping

away in a rush.

Or they simply just

Share this:

I checked into Motel Sadness and sat down my bags of discontent.

The mini bar was stocked well, so I grabbed the gin and mixed the tonic of my life, crushed in my Lemon Eyes, raised my glass, gave a toast, telling them all I was Sorry for ever crossing their path.

I downed that motherfucker in one gulp and prepared another, and another, and another… for the Heart heart head of thoughts that were sure to come.

“I really want you to hate me, Cuz I’ll never love you baby”. Then she got up and walked out to join a passing Parade.

So I got up….left my room and I ran and ran, like a child wild in a playground down a street with no shadows; even though the street lamps cast a deep sodium glow.

It seems I can’t even entice a dark silhouette to accompany me. Make a Shadow I intoned Make a Shadow so I dove, into a dumpster deep, and mingled with the garbage heaped, and fell fell fast asleep.

The Morning after came and the bears were rummaging, waking me from a better world not so obscene.

I couldn’t face the ground with its vicious disregard to support so I climbed and climbed up the fire escape to the tippity top of the tar covered roof, sticky from the bright midday sun and jumped.

The dust flew from wings in full extension as a Feather floated to the alley below but I was light and I went up; on currents caught, finally realizing I was free.

Go….

Go…

Go…

Said my soul, Go

be that beautiful Monster they all believe you to be.

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Embrace me

with a quiet desperation

as we dance.

For the music could stop

at any moment.

Share this:

Don't let the mystery of you go unknown

I downed that motherfucker in one gulp and prepared another,
and another, and another… for the Heart heart head of thoughts that were sure to come.

So I got up….left my room and I ran and ran, like a child wild in a playground
down a street with no shadows; even though the street lamps cast
a deep sodium glow.

The Morning after came and the bears were rummaging, waking me from a better world
not so obscene.