Tag Archives: darkness

Dark Days Perhaps Fade Away – Poem#1 through 3 Collection


Poem #1

Snuggled down deep with the dark at our backs, intense heated light upon our cheeks while tales are told of places and times either long gone or yet to be of the bold; fighting, with either triumph or death to unfold in stories so unreal as to be real for truth lies in the darkest of tales, ever mercurial and seeking a willful ear…

 

 

Poem #2

Lost little monster of the dark auburn woods . She is hidden, ever hidden deep within. A hideous beauty.  Sweet dark girl with eyes that burn with a magic earned in dark fires held sway by an intense and longing angry pain. More fearsome than the darkness that seeks her or so she thinks. Beguiling and devilish yet unknowingly selfless. Just you wait, you’ll see. when the blackness truly and finally comes to knock upon all our doors and hers, she’ll be the only one strong to stand in its way.   To right the many wrongs of a life stripped away.

Poem #3

If there be real magic, I shall discover it in my travels upon my boat, with its sails made of flicks of flame billowing and full, pulling me across a crystal ocean through the night and day of this worn out world.  Alone I shall go, but you may accompany me  if you so wish. But please know dear companion, I shall seek that magic even if I should fall off the edge of it all to find a new more inviting place…

 

 

All poems by Philip Wardlow 2017

Mystery Girl


She flits
amongst the tangled
night in dreams
that I have not known
Yet the desire is
there to partake
of the darkness
that abounds and
surrounds from within her
Mingle me in your madness
Tangle me in your limbs
crawling across your skin
With my warm lips
against cold body
gradually gaining heat
the more you encompass
me.
Your disguise is my own
you think you wear
unbeknownst.
I know.
Mystery girl,
still a sad
forlon whistling tune
hanging in the wind,
a shadow dimly cast by
a light trapped in a closet
from a future not promised
nor sure
she sits tap, tap, tapping
her index finger
on a desk that hardly
ever saw a word written
upon it.
I listen for
her echo
Deep, hallow,
beautiful
wanting.
I listen for it
in the night
as she flits and flutters
in the dark.

by Philip Wardlow 2017

The Dark – Halloween Poem


The Dark –IntheDark

I’m in the dark.

I look at it, as it looks at me.

Silently it sits.

The minutes  draw out to what seems hours.

I move left, it moves to follow.

So I stop. It stops.

The sound of heavy breathing, like the bellows of a fire

emit from its mouth. My heart speeds up.

It seems to be waiting for something. But what?

I raise my hand as if to wave. It waves backs.

Oh you fool,  it’s just your reflection in the mirror.

Calm your breath, its your own lungs you hear

expelling in your ears, your own movements which

track from across the room distilled from the dim

photons which bounce back to your misguided

eye.

“You idiot” I tell myself out aloud.

“Yes, you are” it answers back.

by Philip Wardlow

Halloween Shorts (Haikus)


ShadowPeople

The Dark needs my Soul
For it is feeding time now,
it’s always hungry.

********

ScaryDoll

I think it sees you,
I am sorry that is so
He kills very slow

*********

Think driven by the wind?
A lonely swing in the dark.
When alive, her friend.

*******

by Philip Wardlow 2016

Certain Parts – A poem


Shadow

 

I will never know certain parts of life …but only see them in silhouette and shadow….or as a dim chalk line on a pavement as I walk by….

Mysteries which flit

Images at the edge.

Questions never answered.

Isn’t that glorious.

 

by Philip Wardlow

 

 

The Thing Inside – A poem


hyde

The Thing Inside

It dug deep inside of me and slouched in

the corners of my mind where it directed

me where to go.

It pulled the strings and propped me up

like a caricature in a show.

My emotions were muted like hearing the

sound of a loud glorious church bell

down deep in a dank musty well.

I floated but there was no water to be seen,

no apparent wave had struck me yet I felt

slapped just the same.

I spied you amidst lights, and through the

wall of sound that I had to walk around and over

and under to get close to your side.

You looked sad and wanting to my brown eyes,

because your blue eyes found mine and

I knew it in my soul to be true.

We were connected me and you.

But this thing that slouched, and slithered and sat

this thing made my eyes see you as a trap

I had to traverse or never make it back intact.

This thing inside had a magic wand, which it tapped on my temples

ever so softly as it laughed at me in glee and showed me the shadows

which raced behind everyone’s

heart along with my own.

My memories were dim as I woke in bed, the creature who once

had crouched inside was seemingly gone.

“Foul creature!” I screamed inside, but no answer came

Thankfully.

But mayhem had been met by me that previous night and the

damages I had accrued could not be undone.

I think of that thing that was once inside

and wonder if it will always abide.

by Philip Wardlow 2012

The Night Entreats – A poem for Halloween and the coming FALL next week!


The crows rested in the trees;

for the killing was all done and they

were full.

Their caws as they conversed,

sounded like laughter to my ear;

as if the murders they had committed

 had been all in good fun.

The wind whistled in the trees

and nudged the dead leaves

to life across the road.

Brown and gold skittered like roaches

and hopped like bulbous toads

traveling in a disorganized parade

for the dead.

The bright moon held no warmth

for it worked with the cold wind

and played through the trees to

cast pale blue shadows upon me.

Figures of dark demons, witches, and imps

danced in front and behind as I  softly crept

 lest they hear me trespass in their day they

called night as they played.

My step quickened as the wind seemed to thicken

and pushed at me like a hand on my back.

I grabbed myself against the chill which

ran deeper than it should this fall night.

This hallowed eve, it seemed, held more magic than ages

past, more power, more darkness than the last.

An ancient magic flew on a mystic wind

That brought to my soul a feeling of dread and

memories of evils best left long gone and dead.

The night entreated and beckoned

me to come and walk off the path I was on,

to follow the dead parade as it marched on.

Perhaps I could join in the fun

and dance with the minions

of the night who ate and drank of sweet

things they called treats.

They grinned at me from out of the dark,

but I saw the trick in their eyes

as they wiped the blood from their lips

I would not be fooled

So I ran,

faster than the wind could find me,

Faster, faster, faster I ran.

until I reached my hallowed home.

and clicked the lock shut tight.

The night retreats.

by Philip Wardlow