Tag Archives: friendship

Happy Happens


I can’t make you happy
and you can’t make me.
Happy happens
independently
Stop missing the moments
when you could have
noticed.
And I’ll stop missing
my own.
But by my side
is where I want you
cuz happiness
is always better
shared.
And your smile, your laugh,
your touch
compliments
and fits
like a neat little
puzzle piece
into my
very soul.

by Philip Wardlow 2019

Outside the Something


7.7 Billion
and counting
Of them all,
tell me,
am I Outside or
in?
Cuz, I feel like
something’s wrong
when the Outside
feels like my home
when the Something got their groups
cliques, committees, each
of them knowing the others
favorite songs.
Something to call theirs
and theirs alone.
Right or wrong
they got theirs
and theirs are,
mad strong
numbering in
the thousands, hundreds, tens
I’m not even looking for all
that
hell I’ll take just three
like minded souls
similar to me
I am betting nothing
can beat such intimacy
but I’m
Outside the Something
and it
feels fucking
lonely.

by Philip Wardlow 2019

When it comes upon me


There is nothing more
free than being
ME
There is nothing more to
life
than finding a
best friend in a
wife
There is nothing more than to have
those two things mingle
in an intense cacophony,
of a unique symphony.
And you just wade in
and swim.
Beautifully lost.

by Philip Wardlow 2018

Reaching Her


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Some days are often dreams
she wakes from,
half remembered.
Perhaps best
forgotten.
Tears are given,
gravity catching,
taken by a lover far below
the sheer cliff she sits.
He climbs to her,
tears clutched tight
Ever ascending
Slow, ponderously,
Inch
by
Inch
By
Inch
He is a patient man
looking up,
giving her a full
loving smile
There is no other
place he’d rather be
For the view is
spectacular below
and above
to the girl
he’s trying to
reach.

By Philip Wardlow

 

 

UP or Down


Up or Down
you are still around
Know that. With a heart beat
that’s fucking fierce.
That beauty, that soul, that spirit within
still tolls and tolls and tolls
Oh they toll
Through the ever darkness
a smile, a grimace, a groan
You struggled and you struggle still
you so struggle still.
In bed you laid, fetal
Epitaph gouged out with bloodied fingernails
on wooded headboard
saying “She lived, but where has she gone
and will she ever return and in what state?”
Little does she know
She has gone no where
she never has.
She’s been in it, the visceral reality
sitting heavy upon her chest
choked out to almost
the last breath.
Yet, she struggled out the words FUCK YOU and
GO TO HELL!

So when gravity abates, should
she praise the fickle forces
in their absence?
Fuck them even more, so she says
Fuck them even more.
My heart beats
with no thanks
My heart still beats.

 

by Philip Wardlow

for my friend Candice Louisa Daquin love ya sis  🙂
catch her great work at her website at:
https://thefeatheredsleepcom.wordpress.com/

Unprocessed


I learned long ago
to bury my feelings in every
day life
the highs and the lows.
Why be happy when its just going to be
taken away in an instant.
And why show you are sad when you will
just bring every one down and they
really don’t care anyways.
So I smile. I joke.
I say I’m good, how about you,
to turn the conversation
away from me.
I have always been good at that.

But it builds in me
This tension.
Stresses of the day, anger at people, fears in life, continued failures.
I hold it.
I do much better inside when I let it out.
And I do.
Like reading a book, or watching a movie
I fall away from the world and I am just am.
Pushing my body in a work out, hard, really hard.
Having good sex, really good sex.
A good stiff drink.
Retreating.

But I’m working up to a better version of attack.
Talking to someone I trust to find
the feelings I can’t express or bring to
focus to what’s inside me that hides there even from me.
Like why I feel anxiety about seemingly stupid things I
shouldn’t.
Unresolved anger that I say doesn’t bother
me but does.
Why I fear a future I should love to imagine.
Hitting a punching bag helps,
riding my bike, free, unfettered
in the sun, in the wind
Away from the world.
Helps

But engaging really is the key.
I am releasing that need to
keep that wall sustained
I think it has hurt me way more
than it has ever helped

I want my melancholy to melt
I want my mind to connect
and my smile to flourish
in every possible way.

by Philip Wardlow 2018

The Gravity of Her


She is a force
an attraction
a passion,
pulling
a satellite revolving around the world of me,
a kiss filled with stars
that have never lost their
spark.
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
recklessness
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
dizzy.

By Philip Wardlow 2018

Not much Time left for you


Stop, please cease and desist.
Don’t fatigue me with humor
from an encrypted list

That only you have the key to
and do not wish to share
as you give me yet another vacant stare.

Egotism seems to be your religion,
a character flaw so ingrained into you
that it’s exclusive to everything you do.

Vindictiveness is your fallback,
a solitary friend who knows you well
as you sit there alone in your man-made cell.

Even if you were to apologize
for your misbegotten callous deeds,
your sickly smile causes it to be ill received.

Still you smile that sardonic smile,
thinking you are the king’s clown
to entertain the masses as you fall down.

Tell me a riddle of what I did see
in you that made me think in that moment
I would find a soul deserving my lament.

Oh woe is me to ever possibly call you a friend
Woe is me to not see the signs
so easily to be seen by the blindest of the blind.

Love could save you and make you whole,
change the boy to a man and the fear to admission
that life offers a cure to your self-inflicted condition.

Little do you know that time is not kind.
It seeks no friends, it cares not for your life.
It does not sit and wait for you to make up your mind.

By Philip Wardlow

The Moon and the Stars told Me


I sat on my front porch
and stared out at the dark.
The moon was full
as was the sky full
of stars
and fireflys.
I was seven maybe six
I was happy in that
moment,
content,
Looking up at the sky
Lost in the moon
I thought of her
a girl I never knew
she would be pretty
she would love me
deeply as I loved her
And we would
be together
for all our days
I thought of her
somewhere else
looking at the moon
thinking the same
of me
“I will meet her one
day,” I whispered
to the night.
Then I went quietly
back inside.

By Philip Wardlow 2018