Oh Wednesday – so True
Tag Archives: dark
Death Waits – 30days till Halloween Challenge – a Scary Poem a Day. Poem #1
Death Waits
Blackness stands vigilant
over a life you deemed
of no worth.
It sees your path laid out like a meandering stream,
soon to dry out in a dead valley gone from tall green
to wilted brown.
Patience is one of its skills for
the time it will take you
to slowly unwind from your mortal coil.
But unwind you will.
With a keen blade
as sharp as the sickle moon which hangs the sky,
it shall cut you from the
thread of life
you never cared
to hold.
By Philip Wardlow
You Cheeky Raven, Nevermore! A Poem
Oh Raven, you may tap,tap,tap,
incessant in your endeavors to ever trap
me in your tangled lies ten feet deep.
I be not such a fool to fall sway to your unearthly rules
of tortuous maladies you delight in inflicting on ever passerby
you do seek to see that lies in your line of darkest sight.
Your taunts as you perch and preen on pedestal high
do naught a thing to one such as I.
Your guile lies transparent as a ghost.
A thrown token. shiny and bright to fall at my feet.
Yet, as I do bend down to pick it up,
you no sooner pilfer my pockets of my weeks hard earned
fortune as you seek to simply
call it black luck where I would be none the wise.
Nevermore you say!
Bah, I say . Be gone this night before the morn
brings the dawn and turns your cheeky words
to flotsam to be carried away on the shore’s
of my discontent.
You may know the depth of many souls
as you may know mine,
but there is no barter to be had, no wager to be paid.
MY soul is my own.
No matter how dark and cold.
By Philip Wardlow
Your Mask – A Poem and a Blitz of Gifs
Your Mask
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Be it made of paper maché or plastic,
carved mahogany with a golden veneer,
or crystal clear quartz glass.
You wear one.
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Morning, noon, and night;
removed only when sleep comes.
For what purpose does it serve your dreams?
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Dead eyed stare, twisted grin, or a curious
smile that creeps ever upward hiding a secret
sin.
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Callous nature cloaked behind a beguiling
eye of the bluest blue.
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A beauty called to recklessness,
a perfection that only Death will strive
to collect once due.
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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.
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By Philip Wardlow 2013
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Feeling overwhelmed? Yes, wearing a mask does that to you sometimes.
The Road – A poem
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
Bloody Ballet – A Poem
Bloody Ballet
She pirouettes
adorned in a dress
of black gossamer,
Spinning with blade
in hand to music only
she hears.
Flame red hair sweeps the air,
flinging outward, as
drops of crimson
drip from the tip
to the cold hard floor;
knives held tight by
delicate fingers.
Her hands move with
the intensity of the allegro.
Alive, brisk, and deadly.
The sharpness of her tools
keep up with her demands
of dissection and delving.
The other dancers
fall before her
as if in silent repose.
Arabesque to glissade,
her strong legs coupe
across the floor,
she cuts and cuts and cuts
and does a sourbresaut
like a cat jumping
onto her final partner
in this ensemble of now
only one.
She seeks his heart
as the point punches through.
Death follows
Yet still it beats
as she holds it,
Still it beats
as she takes a bite.
Still it beats
as she rises from
her grand plie
and takes a bow
to the crowd
from
center stage.
By Philip Wardlow 2013
Cools Gif and because I’m to Lazy to do anything with my Blog
Separate me, tear me into threes and just leave me be
The damage you have wrought can be repaired,
Once your memory finally fades
Clock Work Orange
Ah, the clock yet continues to tock
Do you see the charm, do you see the light
which still shines through, but its a dark light indeed.
Eating an Apple in the Dark
This Gif only works for me when I pick on it…it’s very freaky though…
Cruel Master – A Poem
Cruel Master
I have no opinions of which you would care to hear;
for the heart is a cruel master which binds you tight.
Cry out and you will only get more of the same I’m sure;
another beating to send you back into the corner whimpering.
So I slink around the edges of your eyes and live
in the shadows of the moods you cast.
And hope that you never see I am slowly
poisoning the master you have come to
love.
So one day you will be free.
by Philip Wardlow 2013
Bloody Party – A Poem
Bloody Party
Your metallic sweet taste
drips from my mouth,
down your neck,
between your breasts,
and over your hips
to pool around
naked feet.
My bite, an aphrodisiac,
as you moan in my embrace
while my teeth sink deep
into veins drawing
life into my own.
Your river of red flows, it travels
pulsates, it beats, a rhythm
keeping time to a force where
I now control its course.
Slower, fainter, weaker.
You gasp in ecstasy at your
perfect death.
I lay you aside,
and move on to the next,
after all this is my party
and I must attend to all
my guests.
By Philip Wardlow 2012
This poem was originally published in the online magazine called The Carnage Conservatory in 2012.
Ain't no rest for the Wicked - Philip Wardlow - The real and the sensual sides to life in all its facets.. 