The Dance


To and fro we go in life and all its pains  collected along the way.

In the beginning, a Tango,  feet sliding down the floor,
full of exuberant steps of youth with a crazy devil may care.
Never tiring,  head up, steps sure even if we fuck up
with every other step made. 

We are in motion, forward or back ,we are in motion
and that  is everything to  the youthful 
whether in body or the heart
it is everything.



By Philip Wardlow  March 21, 2022

My Perfect Heart


She loves me without question.
Adores me in the fullest.
Leaves me wondering what she sees in little old me.


This sweet, wonderfully funny, bombastically beauty of a woman with her chameleon like gorgeous sexy,  flourishing soul that beguiles me from her red hair to her dainty toes, from an arc of an eyebrow to the sway of her luscious hips in play, she always seems to get her way with every delicious day I find myself with her.

I have the clover, the horseshoe, the rabbit’s foot, and shooting star all wrapped up in her.

She’s my lucky charm I hold tight to, that magic that I delight to.

She is my wife, my perfect heart.

Forever my Valentine.

By Philip Wardlow Feb 14th 2022

The Everything and the Nothing


If I were to suddenly evanesce, to flee, to disappear, 
to run fast and headlong into the bright nothingness of the night,
what ruin would find my absence?

Would their be sick wailing siren calls of the once was
reaching my soul's ears 
through the
nothingness of me?

I hope not. Not Wailing over me.... a tear or two will do, followed
quickly with a laugh.

But I do not wish to know the old world anymore after I am gone.
Why dry up and go, if to only to still receive drops of the
once-was in a teacup, to simply drink bitterly
of.

Remember me or don't, for I will not care as
I lie afloat amongst the stars, dreaming of new
things, new worlds, new excursions to catapult
a frayed mind to healing, to repair a ripped soul
torn asunder.

Cry and smile in the same instant is
all I ask of you if you do remember, for I
liked to be missed in both respects.
So I guess I do care a little at that.

I believe in everything and nothing in this Universe and I
would miss both aspects were I to finally fall into the
abyss of what-not and possibly nothings.
 
I enjoy the Everything of  people healing of the
cuts they give themselves and get,  and its wondrously satisfying
to partake in living in that magical epiphany 
of them 
I do not enjoy the Nothing, in the sense that 
they will continually scratch the scabs to bleeding
every so often and there is no mop big enough, 
nor pail of water full enough 
to ever fully clean it all up.

I am tired of slipping in their blood.
The Everything of them is wonderful
buy sometimes the Nothing of them
becomes all too much. 


By Philip Wardlow Dec, 2021










 





 

	

Halloween Haikus


Forest of pitch and gloom
promise men carnal fortunes
with a witches smile
Did you blink and miss
floating eyes and toothy grin
Hee, Hee, What a Fool
It stands in the hall
one foot closer every night
Door locked tight, Knock, knock 
Dapper ghosts party
Halloween is upon them
drink, dance, and go Boo!

October


When you are a child you are in touch with the old magic that rides the winds
in the month of October.

It's palpable, tangible, substantial in the air at night when the moon is
full and darkness descends and the cool winds blow through the almost naked
trees clinging.

Often, you laid in your bed, blanket held high, tight just below your eyes, as you
stared at the shadows dancing, tapping just outside your window creeping,
because every sound, every movement, outside or in, was more
ominous in the enchanting halls that you called the days of October.

From one to thirty-one you knew you marched certainly to your gleeful deaths
under the blue shadowed sky cast by a vengeful moon that had nothing better to do than to spy on you as you tried to sleep a fitful sleep.

As a child, you loved to fear, but feared to know the full extent that your fear could roam
and go, but roam you did. And Fear always got the best of you, wide eyes and all as
you ran to your Ma or Pa.

Secretly though, even consoled, you loved the tenseness of that feeling,
that soul reeling fright, the goosebumps crawling across your skin at night.

You relished that magic, that what-if of awfulness lurking.

Life was alive in you. Breathing like a bellowed fired, and wanting to escape from that feeling was never a question truly ever posed
in the slightest.


by Philip Wardlow ~ October 1st of 2021

From her eyes,to her smiles and hips


There is no greater story than us…

To meet during the chaos of our lives as the cruel planet revolved endlessly around.

The Universe said, “Here, take a look at this, isn’t it all you have ever wished for?”

“Yes, yes it is,” I replied inside, “she’s the type of girl I could love.”

From the come fuck-me eyes, to that open sweet smile, to those hips which told a future tale of open thighs letting me inside, from her warm heart to her internal heat.

When the Universe speaks, you better listen hard, for she may only whisper but once.

I didn’t blink, I didn’t turn away. I smiled back.

I saw her that night, fully. Her and I, laid out together for the next years of our lifetime and perhaps well beyond if the myths be true.

She was the one, she is the one.

From her eyes, to her smile, to her hips and well beyond.

By Philip Wardlow Aug 26th, 2021

Sketch ME


Sketch me, sketch me, and I bet yea that you will not see me the way I wish to be seen.

Flawed and imperfect scribbles put down on paper, chaotic with no intention or care of staying within the lines at times. Sadistic selfish hard edges fading to soft featherings of delicious needs and wants at the corners of my contained fine lined darkened soul.

The eyes, the eyes, there is a beguiling light behind those shaded eyes, a light, a light, so fucking bright as to mesmerize, if you were to look too long, you would see everything, but most seldom ever do take the time.

Ah, but what is a sketch but a sketch?

A glimpse, a side eyed introspection. Am I not correct?

So there is no disrespect at not knowing the me of me when all the hours of my days and yours can’t be devoted to explore the why and where of us in all it’s full glory.

Perhaps though, that’s what keeps you and I coming back to each other over dinners, drinks and all some such.

To find the true picture in both of us.

by Philip Wardlow June 2021

Cog in the Wheel Feels


coggy

Definition of cog. 1 : a tooth on the rim of a wheel or gear. 2 : a subordinate but integral person or part.

Round and round the tooth of me goes.
My path well worn in the rotating
pre-ordained woes  of  a day.

If I squeak, then oil me
so I shut up,  for no one appreciates a noisy cog.

Push the wheel harder, so my momentum carries me away from thoughts that cause me to stray to the screaming in my head that always implores me to run the fuck away from this boring ass, numbing, plodding of a distant and dismal day.

I am integral though,  I am integral

So thinks the cog  in this spinning wheel forever at play.

By Philip Wardlow Dec, 2021

Don't let the mystery of you go unknown

Weaves of the Wheel

A Wheel of Time Community

PhoebeMD: Health + Inspiration

Poetry • Medicine • Life

Debatably Dateable

Dating, Poetry, and More

Rust.in.the.Soul

Ignorance is bliss / truth is necessary / rust in the soul

Go Dog Go Café

Where writers gather

The Emotional Being

Realise your innate perfection

MelDouleur.com

one thousand words are not enough

Dark Desires

Erotic Fantasies

STROKE(d)

journal

VIVID LENS VIEW

Let Your Eyes Do The Talking...

Awapara Art

A Place to share My Love for Painting, Life, and my Wandering Mind

All Thoughts Work™ Outdoors

Hiking with snark in the beautiful Pacific Northwest 2011 - 2013

Geek Sneak Peek

Reviews, raves, and rants. It's all about the books we read

Weaves of the Wheel

A Wheel of Time Community

PhoebeMD: Health + Inspiration

Poetry • Medicine • Life

Debatably Dateable

Dating, Poetry, and More

Rust.in.the.Soul

Ignorance is bliss / truth is necessary / rust in the soul

Go Dog Go Café

Where writers gather

The Emotional Being

Realise your innate perfection

MelDouleur.com

one thousand words are not enough

Dark Desires

Erotic Fantasies

STROKE(d)

journal

VIVID LENS VIEW

Let Your Eyes Do The Talking...

Awapara Art

A Place to share My Love for Painting, Life, and my Wandering Mind

All Thoughts Work™ Outdoors

Hiking with snark in the beautiful Pacific Northwest 2011 - 2013

Geek Sneak Peek

Reviews, raves, and rants. It's all about the books we read

%d bloggers like this: