Tag Archives: inspiration

Connections


I connected with you but you never knew,
all hundred of you.

Did you ever feel a light tickle on your neck or a
tap on the shoulder?

That was me just saying hello.

Much the distant spectator
string in hand, held tight to the kite of you
as you danced in the wind.

I either smiled, laughed,  or cried
just a bit, soaking up
the moment that you offered
out.

Until I simply decided to let go
to watch you escape into
the sky.

By Philip Wardlow 2019

The Death of Melody


I have heard that Melody
in music is dying,
stripped down
to either Harmony,
Rhythm, or Tone.
Using only 3 Notes,2,1, or None
to get the job done
and feed the
hungry masses.

People still love the
new music though.
I have at times.
It’s got a good beat
and you can dance to it
and might have
something clever
to deliver
that clicks into
you gently.

But most of it’s shit
cuz there’s
no flow
up and down the scale
flirting
with the emotional
peaks and valleys
of the soul
pulling something
out of you
involuntarily
beyond your control.

Now, most of it feels
recycled, overused
or too simple
like your ABCs

I don’t wish for Melody
to die
I wish for it to thrive
and come alive

So maybe, just maybe
it’ll jumpstart
my heart and reawaken
the Melody in me.

by Philip Wardlow 2019

What Defines Me


What do you see in me when
you see me?

Hair, raven black in
soft waves curling,
wisdom creeping, as
white snow streaks upon
the edges of a life
leaving.

Eyes of rich dark mahogany
seeking clarity to life
truly as it is and not
how it’s supposed to be
but often
failing.

Mouth, always smiling in invitation
yet reticent in divulging
all the secrets
accumulated lest
judgements pronounce
me false in your
biased ears.

My own Ears,
are sharper than most,
seeking every intonation
behind a word and it’s
hidden meaning,
but would rather hear
it freely given.

My Hands, strong hands,
loving and gentle hands
tools to create a home
and to hold you tight
yet balled and clenched
when it all becomes
to much sometimes.

What’s between my
legs you ask?
You thought I wouldn’t say
Ha! A passion some cannot
measure or take but would
love to try and
conquer

My feet have carried me
far, whether in a slow walk
or a run my Travels are far
from done.

And ah, my heart, my heart
it beats,
its full always to
overflowing
yet fearful
of spilling a drop
lest it gets wasted.
But yet I pour
my heart into
an endless
cup
Never quite filling
it up.

by Philip Wardlow 2019

My Muse beckons


My Muse,
she sits upon
yon shore, across dark waters flowing,
serene and smiling with invitation,
red hair blowing
in the same direction
as the wide deep river
does go.

I find I lack the courage
to traverse such a feat, for fears
take hold of the mortal
man in me.

This side is good,
she whispers from across the waves,
full of life, stars, and wonderment.
Won’t you come over
for I know you will enjoy it too,
It’s where your soul will thrive
and come alive
as I sit by your side on the
riverbank of life,
exalting in all that
there is.

I look away,
avoiding her gaze
The river is strong and a
torrent of a task to cross
and nature has created a coward of me.

Oh, but her sweet whispers reach
my ears, speaking of mysteries,
of love, of magic and mischief.
The core of my being
smiles inside
at the bright,
light of potential
in those whisperings
of all that could
be.

So I turn to her
my red, red Muse
and smile as I dive in.
Cold water clutching,
I surface
stroke after stroke,
kicking and fighting
I beat the water with
a fury, setting
up a rhythm it cannot
ignore.

All the while I hear,
pulling
her words.
That wonderful self
never ceasing
until I reach the
far shore
Tired,
but alive,
fears cast
aside
as I fall
into my Muses
loving
embrace.

by Philip Wardlow 2019

The Day


The sun is shining
yet,
I woke up today to clouds and rain
I woke to a dismal day
but now the sun is shining
and I can’t find a thing that causes me to complain
because I woke up today
and it was drip dripping so I went back in
and closed the door
tight.
But later when I looked back out
the sun was shining
and I couldn’t shove
the smile from my face.
by Philip Wardlow 2018

Contentment


Contentment, they say,
is synonymous with happiness,
satisfaction, fulfillment
and more;
more words of
peaceful denouement leading to seeming
roads of blissful ends.

Perhaps and perhaps not.
At the most I would pluck
“satisfaction” from that pile
of useless defining words that they
try to ascribe
to life
of whats and what nots.

Satisfaction at knowing
you tried your best,
and still failed at it all
in the end,
satisfaction that you don’t
give a damn to fight that
fight anymore
no matter how much they implore
that you should.

That you smile in satisfaction
at the day that greets you,
whether the weather
is bleak and cold
or
sunny and warm.
You appreciate the day
for just being the day
Here, now and forever
more.

by Philip Wardlow 2018

Tacos and Tequilas


Sometimes its tacos and salt rimmed tequilas,
movies and lonely couches,
cold beds and cats, tongue twister
and tying up,
a plethora of pleasures in the grab bag
of life
followed by a deluge
of desiccated numb bodies
dumped on your front lawn.

Sometimes its a magical arc of light
swinging in the breeze
by a delicate hand on a dark path

It’s sweet sugar on your lips
tongue licking,
as you slowly, reluctantly
back away from the most
wonderful kiss.

It’s a flurry of heavy punches
to the gut
tickling, because you have been there
before, and you can take it.
Can you not?

So you emit a raucous laugh
at the absurdity
that the day has wrought.
Jaded in your green dreams
you wake to breathe
in new air
to expel the stale.

Grab a Bagel and go out the
door
as you think of the
sweet sugar
that still lingers
on your lips
from the night
before.

By Philip Wardlow 2018

 

 

Starting out


Starting out,
she was perfect,
snow white in complexion
with hands and legs of delicate
moving intent.
She had a curious furious mind,
flitting like a butterfly.
Her dreams took her everywhere
she wanted to go,
just to be.
Her smile was pure and outpouring
magical and inviting.
Her laugh was infectious and inclusive
Her empathy for a friend
heart rending and knife cutting
to the bone of the soul.

She was what beauty was always meant to be.

Then one day she heard the words and phrases
of the malintent
she’s not as pretty as some, or that
brain between yours ears
will never get you very far
And thoughts of fancy are
best left forgotten,
placed in a locked box
and dumped into the sea.

All her seeming sins were brought up from the depths
and laid bare by muted lovers never seeing their own
ill gotten gains.
Violent beating words, followed by choking pushing
declarations of malevolent “loving” motives
left her mind a fractured land
she was scared to travel,
day or night.

At the start of my first
pause at seeing her
really seeing her,
she was magic personified in flesh.
A bright pulsing blue
engulfing.
A rushing vibrant river come to claim
and I smiled inside
at the taking of me.

I saw in her the inception
of the girl and the woman that was always there
I saw all those things they could not
in her
And I told her so.
as she smiled
tears falling.

by Philip Wardlow 2018

Time, Tenacity and the Reason Why.


Moments flit
mounting to minutes,
then hours,
Days cycle
as the sun sets
and I’m left
bereft.
Wasted, are the stars
that twinkle.
Wasted, is the moon
illuminating.
No inspiration wrought.
Looking deep,
a hole hides
where once
a solid space
did reside.
Why the vacancy?
Oh, if only the
tick tock
of time could
halt, or
grind down to
near a trickle
then perhaps
my soul would have
the tenacity
to finally
awaken
once
more.

Philip Wardlow 2018