Oh Fool ~
Embrace the wilderness oh foolish spirit….tease and taunt ..be impulsive take risks and fly foolhardy into the wind ….
Philip Wardlow 2015
Category Archives: Poetry Work
A collection of various poems I have written in relation to horror, fantasy or the supernatural
What I See ~ An erotic Poem
What I See ~
She’s a colorful tapestry
overlaid in glass
framed in rigid steel
laid gently
upon my bed.
I don’t know what to make of her.
but I know very well
what I wish
to do to her.
She’s pure sex….
bottled and stoppered,
all I need do is
pull the cork
and she will flow over me
to fill in my every niche
of need that dwells
within.
She is strong,
resilient, quiet
and purposeful
She has many needs
herself,
deep as a well
and as dark.
but her colors
are bright
and they attract.
Oh that poor moth to the flame.
He never stood a chance.
Yet, I trace each piece of her
as she lies there
from azure blue, to crimson red.
to the delicate pinkish
hues that only a
gentleman like me
is allowed to see.
Her heat is inviting
I am not burned
for it matches my own
and it grows and grows.
by Philip Wardlow 2015
Waiting for the Train
I sit.
The thrum thrum of the tracks travel
through my core…
from the cold rolled steel on
a winter morn.
It’s coming; my train.
The vibrations are distant as
my tensions strain
against the boundaries set long
ago in a land made of
flimsy paper mache.
It’s imminently imminent
that time ticks ticks
on the whim of
a pendulum made of wooden sticks
Light it low,
and watch it burn bright.
And by all the laws
of physics time ticks
faster,
and faster as it burns
the length of its swing.
The whistle blows.
As I continue to
sit
sit
sit.
On the track, on this
cold
cold
morn.
For my train to come.
By Philip Warldow 2015
A bitch called life, my best friend (or Striving) – a poem
A Bitch called life, my best friend ~
Let the dust die down and coughing fit stop
Let the world know I gave a damn or let them know nothing
at all.
Let them know that I loved and I lost,
and then chose to love again.
Winning isn’t an option anymore it’s either
do or don’t live to talk about it tomorrow.
Laced up
Dead eyes on,
Hands steady with
a wicked grin.
Ring the fucking bell.
by Philip Wardlow 2015
I wish
I wish ~
I wish many things…
I wish to have my cake and eat it to….
I wish to write write write and give people a little of my unique insight
I wish to have you in every sense of the word.
but I dream…I wish…I conjure
I mark my time….I bide it well….and wait for that fish.
to come swimming by my net….
to pull him up and put him on my boat
I just hope my hand does not slip as I try
to get a sure grip on that tiny little fishy
How sad it would be to see
my wish fall back
to the dark
dark sea
beneath.
By Philip Wardlow 2015
A Thimble Full of the Moon – A poem
A Thimble Full of the Moon ~
Sun scorched skin feels flayed,
raw and on fire,
lips cracked,
tongue swollen,
body drained…weak as a ragdoll.
I crawl through ever shifting sands
with far off lands
shimmering in the distance
that never seem to draw close.
Alone,
I endure the silence
of the ever beating
sun upon my back.
Cold solace comes in the form of
night stars which
are more a stranger than
their close abusive cousin.
Yet my companion moon
comes to dance for me.
She flies with her curved form
arcing across the sky.
Every now and then she helps me along
my way.
As I spy her reflected in a thimble sized pool
of water
in the shadows of the dusty
dunes at night.
I drink.
And that is enough
to continue onward.
Philip Wardlow 2015
Perspective
You have so many years to discover others and yourself…
Life is never all about one thing…not sex..not love…not possessions…not knowledge…its everything; comingled into one great perspective that is unique just for you and sometimes you can meet that person who gets you a little and you get them and you share that perspective together and at that same time learn each other. Then that perspective shifts again for you both..and you sync up.
That’s more than love…that’s a mystery and its beautiful….:)
The Stars
Oh short life, that I wish were longer, lift me up to the stars so that I may float among them and touch them with shy fingertips as I gradually get to know them all intimately like a father meeting his estranged child for the first time after eons of separation and forced expulsion. A lesson had to be learned before I could return to the stars….a lesson deep and longing …personal and reflective for each that finally find their final resting place to call home….
I grin – A small poem
I grin ~
I grin at danger or a challenge,
I grin at life when I know its trying to beat me down
just as I’m grinning at you now
as you lie naked on my bed.
by Philip Wardlow 2015
Your eyes – A poem
Your eyes ~
Your smile is a lie
Your laugh is a lie
Your mouth is a lie.
But your eyes, yeah,
your eyes,
they never tell a lie.
Look away, look at me at deeply,
look at another, or at
me with disdain.
A broken dirty window to the soul
to climb through into you.
But I don’t wish to get cut.
The rules of you are a fickle thing at best,
written on a chalkboard always soon to be erased
and replaced anew.
Your eyes always give fair warning, like the
lighthouse as it swings around 360 degrees,
as I bob and bounce in my little boat offshore.
The signal is clear in your gaze
or lack thereof
It’s crystalline blue.
and bright.
And will light my way out of this
maze that is you.
Philip Wardlow 2015
Ain't no rest for the Wicked - Philip Wardlow - The real and the sensual sides to life in all its facets.. 