Tag Archives: friends

The Gravity of Her

She is a force
an attraction
a passion,
a satellite revolving around the world of me,
a kiss filled with stars
that have never lost their
She is a meteor falling
Captured, I won’t let
go of.
She burns bright in my sky
My heaven filled
Gravity clutching,
holding down
the me of me
where I need to be
with her
Beautifully grounded.
as I kiss her in
in a nighttime rain
upon a lonely street
where the clouds fall
droplets compelled
Did they ever have a choice?
Did I?
Not hardly,
when it came
to the gravity of her.

by Philip Wardlow 2018

Beautiful Drop Dead Dizziness

I won’t complain at the tiredness
in my eyes and befuddled brain,
because of the late night tryst
you and I partook of
when the clothes
came off.
as you electrify
all my senses
in one intense
sequence of
events starting with
a drawn out kiss
full of delicious
heart felt
endearing sweet
and abandon
that even after
being gone from you
a day, or an hour or two I find
I miss.
Wholehearedly and objectively.
Profusely, never obtusely
I see that I am good
for you and you are
good for me
You are just
the right kind
of drop dead

By Philip Wardlow 2018

The Softness


You are the soft points
between the hard
The smooth curves that
trace my heart
You are a delicate
earning for more
with only a fingertip
of intention
caressing me
with a whisper
of a pained soul
reflected in my
ever sinking
Inescapably deep
into the softness
of all
that is you.

by Philip Wardlow 2018


I’m not looking for heavy
for my heart already weighs a ton
I’m unloading it day by day
with it weighing just a little less
with each run of the moon and sun.
But it’s a gonna be long while
til the weights all gone.

I just want your words,
I just want your time,
I just want all the things
you can’t give to just anyone.

I offer a shoulder,
I offer a smile and a laugh.
I offer a walk hand in hand
or a slow dance.
I’ll take you to bed
and bring you to that headspace
you crave.
Or we can just curl up
on the couch and snuggle
in our little cave.
Talking away the day.

extend that line to me
and I’ll connect

Simple as that.



I touched on you
for the merest moment
as each caress was counted
by my hand upon your
While each multitude of last kisses were my final goodbye that took it’s slow
approach in the
forever meandering days we spent
in ignorant luxury with
one another.
yet fortunate ones
to find such a rich
Deep in the eyes of another
Us knowing the
full wealth
we clutched
And still finding
the strength
to set it aside
knowing it could
possibly lead to
a profound
from which there would be
no escape from.


By Philip Wardlow 2017

In knowing


There is a danger in knowing you
too well Miss Light.
like a stormchaser
racing after a tornado
down a back road
with no outlet.
Then the twister suddenly turns,
No escape,
and only beautiful obliteration
No pieces left of me
to find.
Just a lonely road
as the funnel slowly
rotates up and away
to fade into the
as if it never was.

Philip Wardlow 2017.


Every experience


Good or bad
Drawn out
or just a flash
A Tragedy
or favorite
to hold close
in your heart
I suppose.
A smile, a compliment,
a slight, a slap
a bite.
A hug or a deep
in a moment when the timing
can be no more perfect
than it could possibly ever be.
Every experience,
Every jarring intrusion
Every refreshing inclusion
Every meandering way
that perhaps led you
to me and then pushed you far away.
It all matters
and then it doesn’t
but it matters.

By Philip Wardlow 2017

Ever hopeful


Fists balled in anger,  soul sad and fed-up,
yet ever hopeful that his carefully balanced cup
stays half full for the days he knows to surely come
will  be worse than this one.

So he drinks a toast to life still here, full and bright.
Dances with a half drunk girl
he’ll never know,
as he smiles at himself for the kiss he stole.

Then goes home to his empty home;
unless you count his cat Jack
with the biggest eyes you’ve ever
seen for him.
Oh what a wayward lover he is.
Yet, all it ever does, is make him wish
that a girl would look at him that same way.

He is ever hopeful
for he’s built that way,
he’s always been
since he was a small, wee

Ever hopeful,
even as it all crumbles away.

by Philip Wardlow 2017

The Dog


There is a dog on a porch
that never gets to be let it in,
His head gets patted,
his belly gets rubbed

He gets told he is a good boy
as his bowl of food is set
before him,
Right before
his owner jumps
in the car and disappears down the road.

The sunsets are his favorite as
the day departs
and the night entreats
with possibilities to
be found in the roaming…

But the leash restricts.
He can never venture too far.
from this porch.

So he just sits.

by Philip Wardlow 2017