A spider lives inside my head
Who weaves a strange and wondrous web
Of silken thread and silver strings
To catch all sorts of flying things,
Like crumbs of thoughts and bits of smiles
And specks of dried-up tears,
And dust of dreams that catch and cling
For years, and years, and years…
It’s a glorious morn for battle on the field of gold.
So be bold!
Attack the day lest you fall prey
to marauders at your gate.
Go forth and grind them to grizzle
pick your to teeth with their bones
while finding rapture in hearing their moans
Push! Push! Push !
through the tall grass.
Head low! Be wary but
Go! Go! Go!
For its been said, that fortunes
go to the ones who are bold.
Ha! Ha! Ha!
Why I, am the boldest of the bold can’t you
So where be my fortunes, where be my wench
to console my pains, and give me succor
Think not too hard on your gains not gotten
lest you fall ill to them before you
meet them my friend.
Be not so arrogant! Be not so aggrieved!
For any man’s head can leave a
neck with but a peck of a well honed axe
No man’s future is certain nor ordained
by the vicious gods who play
their crap game
in the dark corners of your fated life.
Wise words, so heed them
or only peril shall follow
all your days.
by Philip Wardlow 2017
I don’t need to connect with you on any level
that means anything.
Why should I?
Let’s keep it frivolous
Let’s keep it small.
But I’ll put on a smile for you
once in a while
you give you a reason
to hang on.
To show you that you entertain me
just a bit.
But we both know that there is a dead half
to me, she said
And it will never come alive for you.
Sure were friends, she said.
by Philip Wardlow 2017
Her dress unraveled
Falling slowly, suddenly,
clothed now only in a grin
to mirror my own.
Circling, ever circling
around and around
eyes shaded to what is, what was,
what might be. When all
we needed do was to stop and leave
this fun house to truly see , and never
buy a ticket again.
Oh fat cat, where
did that last cookie go?
Do you suppose
it went down
that big mouse trap of a mouth?
I’m thinking so.
Kill your shadow
before it kills you.
Your shadow doesn’t lead.
You lead you.
Thought I would update everyone on the progress on my Book I plan on putting out this year as a collection of Horror, Fantasy, and Science Fiction all in one.
Shooting for a Lucky 13 stories to go into the Book… Hey! Maybe that phrase could be part of the Title of the Book. Nah, it’s probably been over done…I will have to think on it…. 🙂
Check out my progress so far in my writing on the various titles going in the book.
BTW I still need artists for various small sketches to donate an original drawing or artwork based a story or two. Nothing big. just some original stuff would be nice to give it a little pizzazz!
OKAY see below my list of stories either done or in the work. WISH me luck!
Go HERE for Synopsis of some of the stories below:
- The Summoning *
- Witch Hunt *
- Bits and Pieces*
- Flight Through the Forest
- Demon in the Details*
- Time Stopped
- Roadkill (Novella)
- Fire Extinguished
Stories at about 90% Done**
- Power in Me
Stories about 25% Done***
- The Well
- To Take a Life
Stories at intro to 10%
- Alphabet Killer
- Thousand Years
- Year of the Crow
- The Circuit Board
Do you wish to know what lurks and crawls in this brain of mine? Do you wish to know the avenues it takes , the good and the bad, the beautiful, the bloody, the bombastic, and the golden moments that drown? Well welcome I say with a devilish grin wearing my suit of pure white for we are all aspects of all the shades that color the world.
YOU are not exempt. Perhaps in your readings of me and the stories you hear you will see a little into yourself, filtering out all the crap that seems that so often gets in the way of the truth that is you.
So read on, to three of my eclectic samples not quite finished in my future collection of the macabre, to the fun, to the poignant, to the mysterious “what if” of it all… 🙂
I ASK YOU, MY READERS, MY FOLLOWERS, TO PICK ONE OF THE THREE STORIES FOR ME TO FINISH BASED ON THE EXCERPT OF EACH BELOW.
#1 To Take a Life
Sebastian saw the woman sitting in her favorite spot yet again this early Saturday night. Always the same table, the one right at the edge of the dance floor and closest to the bar. She would start the night ordering drink after drink, usually a red wine sometimes a white and just stare ahead seemingly at nothing.
Hours would pass and the club would slowly fill with people and there she would be sitting. Alone. No man had ever approached her to ask her for a dance as she sat. Perhaps they were afraid to approach her, perhaps they thought she wanted to be left alone, perhaps they thought she was out of their league. Perhaps, the word, NO, was already written on her face before they ever would have approached to pose the question in the first place.
Sebastian knew secretly, if they had asked, she probably would have said yes to every one of them. But they never had. So she would sit and watch them all dance from her place at the table. Watch, as the men and women moved on the floor to the seductive beat which pulsed and coursed through the club and bodies wanting to find release from the week’s drudgery called life. Sebastian knew their every whim, their every desire as he always did. They were an open book to him. All you had to do was listen.
This night however he only had ears for the woman who had come here every Saturday night for the last three weeks. Her name was Ms. Evelyn Greer , a pale face contrasted with short shoulder length dark auburn hair, green almond shaped eyes, and full red lips. If she were to ever break a smile he was sure it would have been stunning. A beauty of a woman, majestic in a certain way she held her self. But there was a dullness to her, muted was the word that came to mind, like a dimmer switch to a light turned way down low.
She was to be his tonight. She had marked been many nights ago. She was the one and she had only but to ask him to end her.
#2 From a Dark Place
Joseph carefully placed the five white candles he had just purchased into the big brown suitcase amidst the other items he had already collected. He hands went to close the suitcase but instead they caressed a black leather bound book which lay inside. His eyes went wide and his pupils dilated ever so slightly as he stared at it. He traced the raised symbol on its cover emblazoned in red with his index finger. His finger ran along the entire perimeter of the symbol at all its five points where the continuous line was traced. The symbol was five lines in the form of a star where each point touched the raised circle which surrounded it, what a lovely symbol he mused. Could there be anything more perfect he wondered. A sly smile came to his lips because for all his studies he new the true power of that symbol while others only thought they knew. He had become an adept at the mysteries of it.
“Joseph!” a woman’s voice called to him in a wail from somewhere downstairs in the house.
“Joseph, what the hell are you doing? Spaghettis all done! Christ on a crutch, move your ass!” she yelled again. Joseph could almost picture the spit flying from her mouth as she yelled at him. Fucking fat cow. He would be glad when he was done with her. Joseph couldn’t remember choosing such a bitch of a woman for a wife but he must have, for she lived in his home and occasionally wanted to have sex because of that damn ring on her finger and his own. The weight of the ring seemed to increase more everyday. He wanted to stuff it down her damn throat. It was maddening. No more, no fucking more. Tomorrow, Joseph’s life was about to change.
“Joseph!” she wailed again.
Joseph slammed the suitcase shut, secured the latches and locked them by rotating the combination on each with his thumbs all at once.
“Coming Elizabeth!…..you bitch.” Joseph said the last to himself in a whisper as he tucked the suitcase deep up under his side of the bed and quickly got up to go downstairs for dinner. He would suffer through it with the heifer just for one more night. Spaghetti was his favorite he thought idly to himself.
#3 The Power In Me
Three ping pong balls revolved in midair, each one following the other in a tight circle as they flew.
“I shouldn’t be able to be doing this Carl!” she yelled at the bald little man, sitting across the table from her in the kitchen of her house. Carl was wearing a smug little grin on his face that annoyed the hell out of her. He was always full of himself, today more than usual. He knew something he wasn’t telling her. Shit! She was losing her concentration. One of the balls slipped out of its rotation and fell.
“True and not true,” he replied back glibly to her, as he deftly caught the fallen ball with his left hand inches before it hit the table.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” she asked, her eyes staring ahead at the two remaining balls still rotating in front of her. She thought of a figure eight, and immediately the balls begin to swirl in that configuration. It was equally cool and frightening at the same time, she thought, but Carl didn’t have to know that.
“Angela, you have taken to this extremely well. It seems you are a natural. I have to give our co-workers credit. They were betting you would do well the first time right out the gate. Not many can pull off even one ball this quickly, let alone three. Guess I will have to pay up when I get back to the office.” Carl chuckled to himself, rolling the little white ball he had caught, back and forth between his hands on the dining room table still smiling at her smugly.
Angela took her eyes from the two remaining balls which spun and looked directly at Carl.
“You mean there are others who can do this? Out with it Carl, I’m sick of the games. You’ve been playing them too long, first with my husband now with me. Be straight for once, or for god sakes I’ll shove these balls down your goddamn throat.”
Carl’s smiled slipped a little her under dark stare. Carl involuntarily swallowed when he suddenly realized the balls were still continuing to spin in their figure eight pattern without her looking at them. Damn, she is good, he thought. But she didn’t have to know that; she was arrogant enough as it was. A lot like him more or less, he thought, but still soft.
“Well.” Angela said to him, more of a command than a question.
Carl ignored her tone. “You remember that project three years ago that kept Scott away so many hours at night?”
She remembered all too well, the late nights, and all the arguments that followed, telling her he couldn’t discuss his work with her because she didn’t have the clearance. It still rankled her a little still to this day. Angela only nodded as she looked at him as the balls continued to spin, so Clark continued.
“We had found something amazing. To be more exact it found us. One of the lab geeks directed to synthesize some of the proteins from a plant brought back from Brazil accidentally combined two cultures in the synthesis we were working on with the lot. The other plant was from an older expedition we had done years ago in the Congo in Africa. Scott himself had pulled it from the incubator a few days later. Lot forty-two.”
Angela noticed Carl’s eyes dilating as his hand gestures became more animated as he spoke. This disturbed her for some reason and she didn’t know why.
“Oh, the things Lot Forty-two revealed to us Angela!” Carl found it hard to contain himself as he talked.
“We didn’t know how much until we began the human trials. You did not know this, but Scott your husband, was one of the first volunteers. The committee had been paranoid of it getting out to the general public so everything was done in house; very hush, hush.”
“I am sorry to say this Angela, but he was a fool.” Carl said flatly to her from across the table.
Angela’s eyes suddenly flared from a dull to electric green.
An invisible force compressed against Carl’s chest, to send him flying and to go slamming into the wall behind him. Plaster crumbled around his head and tumbled off his nice black suit coat he wore.
Now I am going to have to go to the dry cleaners tomorrow, Carl thought idly….
Ship in a Bottle~
A sailing we will go!
A sailing we will go!
But on the currents we shall float
on a ship in a bottle in a big row boat.
The wind cannot touch our sails,
only our faces as we sit,
atop the glass
on a encased little wooden ship.
Our phonograph shall play at the stern
pushing us melodiously along
as we sit on the bow of the
bottle as the clouds pass low.
The little sailor man below, dressed so primly
but with his big straw hat to shade the sun,
shall keep a firm grip on the
tiller to steer our unknown path
to the unknown.
And I and my friend, shall munch
on little sandwiches come lunch
and just enjoy the day
as it passes by, spying our fancy friends
in their hot air balloons in the distance.
As we sit on our ship in a bottle in a big row boat.
by Philip Wardlow 2016
The Goblin King Sleeps~
In an oubliette deep
does a dank dungeon keep
the Goblin King.
at a loss to life he sought
and thought would crawl on forever
in a true vanity of his own design.
Yet, a silver lining
does shine on the pitted walls
which confine this man.
For he made a difference while out
in the world of light.
He ravaged, and wrought, bringing knees
to bend to touch the ground
and they fought, found courage,
bringing a change to the world each
in their way, good or bad
in the eyes of men
he brought a change,
and a reckoning was finally
this proud King.
And finally escape his
by Philip Wardlow 2016
The Five Tenets of the Sword~
Once light as a dead bird’s body in my hands,
this weapon now weighs more than the collective souls
of a million men,
sweat glistens on muscled forearms strained
needles in legs drive deep,
yet I stand.
Conditioned for this in every cord, tendon, and bone
that runs through.
Hours upon hours, Days upon days,
Years to master myself, then years to follow
to master this weapon.
The placement of the foot just so, hands balanced
sword poised at the perfect angle.
Advance, retreat, first position, second position
third, and on and on and on,
an endless dance until the music stops
with a myriad of outcomes at its end,
and I know every step in the
countless tangle of each encounter.
I am steadfast in my defense and attack
yet, I let the mind drift into that nether
region between thought and the what-if.
Never thinking I know my opponent
for he will do what I least expect and I
must expect the least expected in the blink
of an eye, for it could be my eye that is lost.
Ignore your sixth sense at the cost that
only fools pay when they are finally put to
rest in a shallow lonely grave.
My line of sight travels down my sword
to an opponent that only wishes me a quick death
I see all my years to come, laid out bare for
him to snatch from me, like a breath from
a baby as he sleeps deep.
I am no newborn! Swaddled and waiting.
But born to this moment in time.
So come. Come!
And I will share you a secret
as I whisper your own death in your
The hardest of the tenets to maintain,
for they drive all the rest in me.
Fail this one and I fail them all.
Be steadfast you ask of your soul,
Be steadfast you implore of your heart.
Be steadfast you command of your mind.
Find a focus to compel the body forward.
Find a focus to awake each day.
Find a focus to believe in you
when no one else ever will.
Find that will
Simply find it
For there can be no other way.
by Philip Wardlow 2016
Prince of Ravens~
With a sword well
used and dangerous
and finally released.
Shall we dance?
Dark, and darker
as the lights are dimmed
to hide what some
others call sins.
The ravens fly high
over castle keep
as their prince
Into the many mysteries
of the mind
found between her
legs and more.
What beauty will he finally find
When the dance is done.
by Philip Wardlow 2016