Category Archives: Poetry Work

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

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

Three Poem Series about our Natures

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Desolate Dame

 

You give him a grin

and forget it all when he

grabs a breast.

He smiles that same stellar smile

that trapped you so long

ago.

You sweat it all out through sexual labors

and forget…

all the moments meandering

constant

in the frontal lobe of your brain that aches

to cut him loose and send him downstream

to go cascading off a cliff.

Yet you play the martyr to his Mussolini,

tied up and tortured in the town square,

while all the passerby’s look the other way.

Weakness

Doesn’t become you.

Defiance should rule.

But yet you grin all over again

when he grabs your breast.

Philip Wardlow 2013

Lazy Days

 

 Orb bright over head,

Naked we lay…tanning.

 

I kiddingly ask if I can lay the palm

of my hand on your ass

and just leave it there.

 

I tell you casually while the sun bakes us,

that we have about another 100,000 yrs

of evolution to go before we stop believing

the bullshit we speak now.

 

Dark clouds move in  as old Mr. Nimbus blows.

A storm is coming…hopefully it only

blows away the shit we don’t need in

our lives.

 

Sorry babe…

Feeling melancholy again I guess.

 

I get lost in the fantasy, because the reality of it all,

is so much different than we suppose.

 

Fantasy….Reality?  Each one has its place.

Haven’t  decided which of the two is

stranger yet.

 

We grab our towels as old Mr. Nimbus spits on us

and go inside to have nice a cold beer .

 

Philip Wardlow 2013

KISA Syndrome

 

“Why ME?”  she asks

I don’t know.

Because you let me in.

Because you’re a good person.

Beautiful,

Intelligent,

Passionate,

But most of all because you’re so full of despair.

…and I have a sword.

Philip Wardlow 2013

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Above three poems originally featured in an online publication called Boyslut – http://boyslutpublications.com/

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

Shooting Star – A Poem

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Shooting StarShootingStar

I made a wish on a

star that was falling.

How foolish was I?

Perhaps wishes are a fancy

best left for little kids in the backyard

on a warm summer night,

because I can’t afford them anymore.

At the end of the rainbow you say?

I need what’s in that pot to pay for them all.

All those wishes made long ago.

Well that’s a long fucking walk to take in a day.

Cuz, that old damn rainbow seems to move

away with every careful step I take.

Now if I could find that shooting star

That just fell from the sky so high from

outer space into my backyard.

Feel it’s warmth, it’s fading half remembered glow,

as I hold it with hands held tight.

Well that would be something I reckon

That would be alright.

By Philip Wardlow

GiFs for your Entertaiment, Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

Your Mask – A Poem and a Blitz of Gifs

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Masksman

Your Mask

*

*

*

 

Be it made of paper maché or plastic,

carved mahogany with a golden veneer,

or crystal clear quartz glass.

You wear one.

*

*

MaskVFlip

*

*

Morning, noon, and night;

removed only when sleep comes.

For what purpose does it serve your dreams?

*

*

MasksBirds

*

*

Dead eyed stare, twisted grin, or a curious

smile that creeps ever upward hiding a secret

sin.

*

*

MaskMajora

*

*

Callous nature cloaked behind a beguiling

eye of the bluest blue.

*

*

MaskSexy

*

*

A beauty called to recklessness,

a perfection that only Death will strive

to collect once due.

*

*

Masksgas

*

*

Know this.

All facades eventually decay and crumble.

Leaving you bare before everyone and yourself

as you stare into the mirror trying to

collect the pieces to a mask that no longer

fits.

*

*

By Philip Wardlow 2013

Masks

*

*

*

MaskNoseGarden

*

*

*

Maskswalking

Maskfamily

Feeling overwhelmed? Yes, wearing a mask does that to you sometimes.

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

Ocean of You

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If I could hold an ocean in a glass then I could probably understand all there is to you…

Photo Courtesy of Silivia Grav
Photo Courtesy of Silivia Grav

 

GiFs for your Entertaiment, Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

Haiku to you too!

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PlayfulHand
Awake yet I dream
Shadows play and ponder why
I stay and slumber
Donjuan
My lips form a smile
as your hand trembles in mine.
My claim has been staked .
Headlight
Disconnect me please
the pace of the world distracts
I wish to relate.
bloodhands
Laid open palm stings,
as red pools in the shallows,
heart drips to the floor
BlackWhite
Lies wander to truth
as the center shakes off pleas
to honest deceit.

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work, The EROTIC ZONE

Thoughts on You – A Poem (of an erotic nature)

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Thoughts  on YouBlueNude

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

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

The Road – A poem

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dark-road-through-woods

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

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work, The EROTIC ZONE

Stuff – A Love Poem

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Stuff

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

GiFs for your Entertaiment, Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

Deadly Campfire – A poem for all you Campers out there this summer

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campfire

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… Running%20Shadow

**********************

by Philip Wardlow 2013

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

Somewhere in the Middle – A Poem

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Somewhere in the MiddleGoldilocks_

Goldilocks was a high maintenance bitch;

just eat the damn porridge

and get in bed!

Too small,too big

Too hot,too cold

Too hard, too soft.

Big, hot, and hard

and she couldn’t take it.

Never quite right.

Never quite satisfactory.

She was looking for something

perfectly somewhere in the middle.

Golden curls flowed past

shoulders which never knew

beautiful burdens.

Lips laughed at another’s pain

while a hypocrite’s snarl formed

future wrinkles to flourish

into old age.

Blue eyes never saw beyond

the vale which she never

chose to lift.

She was a pretty petite THING,

the ugly cute troll under the bridge,

in her own graceless sort of

way.

Payment was always expected.

The world owed her the world.

Not once pausing….in her thinking…to reflect.

There is no you…only us,

and your somewhere in the middle

of it all just like me.

By Philip Wardlow 2013