Tag Archives: dreams

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

Flying…

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raven

Flying~

 

 

Flying….I…ME…Searching with my lantern,

alight on currents of cold dusky air

The darkness below doesn’t feel the light

that leaks out and dribbles out like

bits of cold rain.

Fall, Fall, Fall

little light of mine….fall

a trickle of a smile

a patter of patience

a sprinkle of spoken

words full of regret.

Flying…lost…ME

in coalescing clouds

fusing, binding,

here I am, mingling

with the molecules as

I shift through the

atmosphere

Ever Apart…ever Onward.

Flying…as the light drips

down to the darkness

below…searching.

 

by Philip Wardlow 2016

 

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

Fortis fortuna adiuvat (Fortune Favors the Bold)

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Fortis fortuna adiuvat ~

 

Goddess of Luck

You shall see me, for I have not

always shone brightly in your eyes.

Perhaps the clouds have hidden my form

beneath your lofty perch..

but I shall give you no more reason to doubtGoddessofLuck

or ignore.

See me!

No longer in shadow shall I be.

See the sun? Ha! It shall pale in comparison.

I shall not be cast aside.

Even if your eyes

were torn out, you will see.

I will attain a greatness to rival even your own.

Oh Lady Luck!

You, who never knew despair,

You, who never touched feet to human ground

beneath.

What do you know of struggle?

What do you know, to call yourself

my judge and artiber of all that

is me.

You know nothing

when I show you were always wrong

about me.

You will know nothing.

 

by Philip Wardlow 2015

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Inquiring Minds

Questions for Aspiring Authors Inspired by fellow writer Jodi Llewellyn

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A fellow blogger, follower and most importantly writer like myself, Jodie Llewellyn posed the following questions below on her blog….she’s got a great blog by the way…go check it right  out HERE if you so choose. I follow her and I think you should as well.

Go check out her responses and her other followers…and perhaps share your own thoughts there or here also. I hope Jodi forgives me for stealing her stuff…but she’s got nice…stuff..:)..btw did anyone ever tell you have too many L’s in your name…

Below are my responses to her questions:

1. What are your grand ambitions as a writer?  Grand ambitions..HA..To  have one of my Novels be one of the FIRST books sitting on an astronaut’s bookshelf on the first settlement on Mars

2. Is there a type of character you always tend to write about?   A misunderstood person who overcomes adversity and ends up the hero  (the underdog of course)

3. How do you really know if you have talent or if you’re just wasting your time? By comparing myself to others tells me I have talent…I just need more discipline dammit…:)

4. What is your least favourite part about writing? Having the courage to sit down and write that first sentence.

5. If you could escape into just one book —like literally go INSIDE that book— which one would you choose? Robert Jordan’s Wheel of Time Series

30 Days of Halloween Poem Challenge, Inquiring Minds

Outside your Window – 30 Days of Halloween Poem Challenge Poem#9

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OutsideDoor

Outside your Window –

Have you ever had evil imaginings,

awake or dreaming,
and confused the two?

A  palpable scene,

with the texture of  black  silk covering

from head to toe,

wrapping around your neck as your breathing slowed?

The dark outside solidified against the glass

as something settled it’s gaze.

A pinprick of pressure to the skin at

the nape of the neck.

It’s waiting to be let in.

Your hand rises to the latch, as you wonder

at  the horror that seeks you and the  curiosity in

which you seek your own demise.

Perhaps this will be the night

you finally die.

by Philip Wardlow

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

Stuck in the In-Between – A Poem

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inbetween

Stuck in the In-Between

 

 You are trapped in the

world of what-not, what-ifs,

and wannabes.

 

Top at the time may be the bottom

tomorrow, a smile a slap in the face.

 

Your core is courageous, wrapped in a

layer of boundless denial not looked

at too closely.

 

The hot sun beats down as the rain

falls in a deluge to sink deep and cold

into your bones.

 

Reason cannot be reasoned with on a

night when the day won’t go away.

 

A borderlander without a home, a foot in

the door to life, dusk and dawn

juxtaposed.

 

But still you fight, you push and rail

against the unseen that seeks to hold

you in this dark realm of broken dreams.

 

Soon…Soon… you say they will see,

as you continue to climb, run, and claw

your way out of the in-between.

 

By Philip Wardlow 2013

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

Mistress of the Pen – A poem by Philip Wardlow

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Mistress of the Pen –

My mistress, she is exacting,

she accepts no excuses,

No whining is allowed,

no knees in the dirt

in supplication

with fingers grasped mightily

looking upwards into her

eyes.

I fear I will fail her.

The thread runs through me,

as a snake crawls through the trees

at night where I cannot

see to kill it.

My mistress will accept

nothing but my pure devotion

shown through my sweat, blood and soul

split open.

I will not fail her.

I am the sun,

I need no warmth,

I need no sustenance from the satellites.

I am brilliant in my own space,

look upon me mistress

See how I shine for you.

I will not burn out.

 

by Philip Wardlow

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

Warrior’s Quilt

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Warrior’s Quilt

My fortune has forsaken me for I am stranded in this cold wasteland

next to a flickering flame about to die.

All I have are my fears, a quilt to keep me warm and the labored breath of life.

The thick heavy fabric enfolds me in warmth from my head to my feet.

It is a comfort as I try to calm my restless mind and fall

to sleep.

I feel warmer yet still as I pull it closer to me in the night.

This warmth seems to come from a different place as I hold

the quilt to me tight.

Like a close friend it is a barrier against the bitter cold that wants

to suck the life from my chest with every stolen breath.

I began to reflect in my minds wanderings

Does this quilt have a story, a past to explore?

I picture strong delicate hands, patient hands,  cutting and sewing in

endless hours to reach an end.

A quiet anticipation to see the job done with  the reward of creating

a piece of art as a gift for a friend.

Did her mind wander while she worked? Did she daydream and get lost

in a world of mystery of her own design while her fingers danced from

seam to seam with the passage of  time?

From mind to hand, to hand to cloth, did these wanderings, these dreams  seep

into the fabric?

Is that why I feel as I lay on this cold hard ground like I could float up to the

dark heavens above  me and touch the stars that twinkle down.

Is this quilt that I’m wrapped in imbued with a magic that I cannot see for it seems to

be reaching  inside me and guiding me to a place where I can be free.

I dream  of a woman and see her smile. Is she the one who has sewn this quilt for me?

Am I now part of her wanderings and fancies?

Is that why my heart is so light?

 Is that her embrace I feel as the quilt consoles me in the night.

My mind is not restless , my body is at peace.

I lay wrapped in my quilt next to a fire long

gone out and forever asleep.

by

Philip Wardlow