Tensions and Potentials


Funny how a day plays
Out
From all the rest
In
the moment of a crash
Between
worlds never knowing
Upon
the other’s shoulders
What
weights they bear in silence
Who
they fear in ignorance
Why
roads are traveled
When
all the open paths
Array
around them
Pulling
at heart strings
Confounding
A mind conflicted
toward
either violent ends or
after
internal deliberation
to
peaceful meditation
where
past sins
are
finally
put
to bed
And wistful dreams
meander
in now a
serenely
quiet
head.

By Philip Wardlow 2018

I Dreamt of Francesca


 

Her face is always shadowed
in my dreams
Yet, if I ever saw her in
the waking world
I know she would shine
like warm magic
radiating across
a darkened room
like a beacon.
No matter the distance I
stood,
her gaze
would find my own
staring into the heart
of her.
Deep and knowing,
she would see
that missing part
long sought
Seen only in her own dreams of me.
I would kiss her then,
without a doubt.
My hands on her waist
pulling her in,
just ever so.
No resistance would come
Only a heavy sigh
of her finally
coming home.

by Philip Wardlow 2018

I think that’s my problem


 

 

I didn’t use to care where the day took me too much.  I didn’t care to have a grand plan on where my life was going.  I was enjoying the journey, the experiences, the places, and the small changes in me that lifted.

Now, I think too much.  Way too much on the proper placement of a day, an hour, or a minute.  I want those self imposed puppet strings cut and to walk this life unfettered, unknotted, from my limited post of reason stuck in the hard hard ground of a seeming need to control a life that doesn’t need controlling, but living.

I get angry, tense, anxiety ridden, depressed, melancholy, or lost at sea when the world in me doesn’t sync up with the rest of the outer.

But that feeling flows away, when I remember all the times when the world did make sense, gave comfort, seemed on my side, or drew me into a content embrace telling me a secret I didn’t know I sought.

You are home child. You  are home.

Enjoy the morning rising. Feel the flash of life.  Take a breath , now really breath it in and exhale it all out.

That’s all you need says the Universe,  that calming breath.

 

by Philip Wardlow 2018

 

My Stardust Companion


 

There is no doubt, not an ounce
that some of my atoms were compressed
tight to the millionth of magnitudes
against some of yours
Kissing, real French like
if you know what I mean,
in that coalescing, condensed
cosmic cloud
out in the lonely dark
in an endless time.
Then Bam!
We were torn apart
just about when
I was almost
to second base
You were gone,
Far flung.
We both did our own thing then
for eons, on top of eons
Flying in a comet or two,
playing in the solar winds
making new friends
and losing a few to
the gravity of
a Universe slowly,
ever slowly coming
into view.
But, I still remembered you
in all my travels…
that energy, that vibrating
frequency, that was
a signature all your own
I felt it out there
amongst all the seeming chaos,
I felt you.
And now you have come
to sidle up tight
against me once again.
So let’s start over with that kiss
and let the planet we now
find ourselves on,
spin and spin and spin.

by Philip Wardlow 2018

Sex Doll


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Long hair, thick thighs
Open innocence,
with intense eyes
Soft curve to the hips
delicate lips to kiss
Inviting ass to smack
Small breasts, nipples erect
pointing,
Beckoning me to come close
Your need is programmed in
as you smile just so
nude in relaxed repose,
Legs opening with expectation seeking further investigation
laying newly gifted upon my bed,
On cue, she says ,” What would you have me do, this body is yours and yours alone, take of me of what you will, for I am just your Sex Doll, forever and ever in need of only you.”
“Wrong,” I say
You own me as much as I own you,
for your design from top to bottom
has caused me to become undone
It holds me in thrall
Complete.
Let’s both seek fulfilling
and delicious trouble
my little sex doll.

 

By Philip Wardlow 2018

That thing she does


My Red can be annoying,
unconsciously ignoring,
as she falls into a world all
her own
with me almost fully removed
as she dips her toes
into that other place, that’s
hard to reach when she’s in it.

But I’m not a thin skinned,
needy meek man
I have my own thing
and she gives me the me in me
that I need to be.

Besides, I like when she goes there
for it’s beautiful to see
that intensity
that determination
to grab part of life
Her life.
I love that most about her,
It’s inspiring.

Oh, and when she finally looks up
and gets up
and saunters over smiling
mischievously
I know that the
attentions gonna
soon be all on me.

by Philip Wardlow 2018

All in Baby


I don’t know all the cards held
in all the hands across the land
But I bet on you
in every shuffle,
every deal.
I’ll bet my pain,
I’ll call my fears,
I’ll raise the table with
my convictions,
and I’ll go all in with
my heart.
No bluffing going on
I hold a high hand,
and a relaxed smile
while I think
on all my winnings
I’m about to take home
tonight
in you.

by Philip Wardlow 2018

Melancholy Man


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I got reasons and I have none
For the times I smile and the times
I dont
But please know, you saved
The melancholy man in me
Yes, you surely did save
this melancholy man.
That kiss you give,
those eyes that see me
Truly
You saved me
And my muddling mind
It’s coming to focus again
On the wonder
The rare,the magic,
the potential
And hope in everyone
I feel it rising
like my
Love for you
Already has.
So stay forever my sweetness
And keep this
melancholy man
company

By Philip Wardlow 2018

 

Fighting Me


I’m just fine
I’m just great
I have everything
A love, a home, a dog, a cat.
A job, a friend or two or three.
So why do I wish to punch a wall
Inflict pain upon the
inanimate.
Melancholy, anger, anxiety, and loathing
climb over me amidst
my calm.
Consuming in the oddest moments
of my day.
And Nothing can reach me
not even me.
For that Me is hidden high on a mountain
far, far away from my shadow
which walks in the light
with everyone else
occasionally staring up
wondering when I will come down.
But the Me up there knows
no one really what’s to see.
Not really.
Everyone else has blinded
themselves,
so how could they ever truly
see Me.

by Philip Wardlow 2018
(character study in poem form for a Book I’m writing)

Adrift


Where waves once gently lapped
now they churn
and pound
relentless.

Once anchored,
now moorings torn
dragged out to sea
all now adrift.

Rising phasing fickled moon
taunts like a schoolyard bully
cold and biting
as it sinks away with the
promised sun,
and its burdensome
loathing gonging heat.

Just an insignificant bobber
afloat,
Eyes staring at the nothing and inward
universe, wondering at the why
of it all, and the wanderings
we seek when the world calls.

Fish nibble at toes,
Tasting,
Sharks circle,
Waiting
For the final death throws,
for most like an easy
meal under an early
morning light.

Delirium
brings a dark, dark,
silhouette
against a lit azure sky.
Pulling…tugging
…breathing life…commanding a body and mind
long past dead to
to snap back to resolution.

Blackness enfolds,
Awake,
softness holding
in a quiet room abiding
of the whitest white
With distant shore finally reached.
As a gentle lapping at the shore
comes to finally an open ear
ready to finally hear.

A new way of life.

by Philip Wardlow 2018

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Hiking with snark in the beautiful Pacific Northwest 2011 - 2013

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