Tag Archives: fool

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

Everybody is a Fucking Expert

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People become afflicted
become sickened
A Mother dies, a Daddy dies
a Brother, a Sister,
a Nephew, an Aunt,
that crazy fun Uncle,
well he’s no longer around.
Yet some know better,
some are fucking experts on everything now:
Epidemiology, Politics
and the Constitution, here
come take your diploma
young ignorant man.
They have just crawled from
the primordial ooze,
but without an ounce of knowledge or true
reflection,
they know the why, the what, and the wherefore
of it all.
Without doubt or reservation,
they string together tens of hundreds
of stories into
a conspiracy of disdain and ridiculousness.
Anxiety now rules an already twisted logic system,
mutating them all into something
new and improved,
The truest most deadly virus of a
a thing called the Fool.

by Philip Wardlow April, 2020

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

She’s true

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Often, it’s hard to trust what’s true,
when it’s wanted so badly it
sometimes leaves you feeling
a damn fool.

I know her love is rich and as
warm as the dark coffee and sweet cream
in my cup.
So I drink her down, down, down
and she picks my tired soul up
from the ground that I had been
laying on.

She’s my Nature, she’s my Sun, a
a field of flowers which clings
to me that I roll in until
the dawn comes.

I can’t catch her lightning, and
wouldn’t want to try,
She’s finally escaped that bottle,
the lids far flung
I’m just trying to keep up
with her escape
as she runs.

I’m not worried,
I know her eyes will always
find me as I know her gaze seeks
only my own.

I love her truly,
as true as she loves
me, and I would be the
fool to ever
wander away from such a
passionate love that
has all my
affections for all the
time that life
has left for us
to be.

by Philip Wardlow 2020

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

The Fool’s fool – A poem

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The Fool’s fool –

 

A knight has his squire…

The Sun it’s faithful Moon which follows.

He is not so simple,  so fluid of purpose

or scene.

He is a machination of fate

desperate and wanting.

A vain creature picking at scraps

thrown at him.

A soul dwelling

in a misery of his own undoing

while a golden bauble sits in his

very own pocket.

He is a fool’s fool

and his master would be

very proud.

By Philip Wardlow 2014

 

The_Fool_by_MarkWilkinson
The_Fool_by_MarkWilkinson

 

 

 

 

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

The Fool – A Poem and aren’t we all at one time or another.

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TheFool

The Fool

I left my only picture
of you back on the moon.

I guess I’m screwed at ever
thinking I’ll be getting back
there anytime soon.

I could ask you for another,
but your narcoleptic and
you always fall asleep at
the exact moment my
lips form the question,

as if you’re a priest who
doesn’t wish to hear my
confession.

So sorry Mr. Man in Black
with that trace of white at
the neck that always looks just
a little too tight.

My truths are real.
My passions are true,
And my love, ah… well my love
turned me into fortune’s fool
for you.

By Philip Wardlow 2012

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

Ivory Towers – A Poem

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IvoryTower

Ivory Towers

A thousand ivory towers sit clumped

tight together.

They fill up the valley below and

spread over the plains of grass as

the river cuts through.

The tops reach higher than the birds

can fly,

Deep into the clouds they pierce

until they scrape the moon as it slowly

passes by each night.

Standing next to a tower

I look up from far below.

Alone.

With a hesitant hand I reach out

And touch the ivory wall.

So smooth and slick like glass as

my fingers run up its length.

Not a crack, not a crevasse

To reach a finger into.

This wall cannot be climbed.

Who dwells in such a high place?

Do they converse across the way,

or do they ignore each other as much

as they do me every day?

Such a lonely place to call home.

These towers seem to me more

like an escape from  the life below.

Where I stand.

If they only understood.

Fortune favors the fool.

by Philip Wardlow 2013