Tag Archives: life

Inquiring Minds, Poetry/Quote of the Week

The Fox – Quote of the Week

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“And the fox said to you, I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world… One only understands the things that one tames, said the fox.” ~ Antoine de Saint-Exupery

 

FOXandMe

 

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

The Marvel of a Marble

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marblerolling

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Marvel of a Marble~

 

 

Your  body, so lithe and light;

it floats effortlessly,

like a  ghost lightly traversing an open  space.

Pirouetting, arms flung, delicate hands in pose

All for show; for  your spirit is not sovereign.

It wears a weighted vest, zipped tight.

Gravity bears down, in its

responsibility to do its part

in the relativity of all things

of keeping that piece of you

controlled….limited….reduced

and compliant.

Structure, and rules

and useless fears need not apply,  yet they

do with you.

A marble rolling along a curve

may call its path predetermined

unless it chooses to jump the ledge

it glides upon.

So jump, oh glorious marble

Jump!

And find that distinctive dance

where vests are flung, and feet move of a volition

not prescribed by a choreography

found strange to your mind’s eye.

Jump!  oh glorious marble,  Jump!

And find where you might

finally land.

 

 

by Philip Wardlow 2016

 

 

 

 

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

Shackles

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Do you feel them?

The shackles.

They chafe and bruise.

Pull against, and they pull back.

Invisible.

Tangible yet they be.

For they have a weight,

a bite…

a substance,

of the foulest metal known to man.

Strong….

welded upon your wrists

For there is no key.

Yet you walked into

them willingly

Inserted hands,

clasps closed.

Acetylene torch bright

heat burning

Skin blistering.

Hands plunged

into cold water

to quench and

strengthen the binding.

Shackles fade from sight

scars heal,

All to the naked eye.

 

 

By Philip Wardlow 2016

 

 

 

 

 

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

Bubble People

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Bubble

They bump along in their bubbles…

with all their different colors

at times comingling…a bright red meeting,

a dull blue or electric  yellow sliding along a prim’s

purple slick skinned surface

grazing against, just ever so.

Electric,  crazy, frenzied, varied, morphic, erotic

Dare I say fun? Yet…the bubbles eventually move on

Some in sadness…some not giving a shit….beep bopping

away in a rush.

Or they simply just

POP!

 

By Philip Wardlow 2016

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

Just a Crazy Dream …

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I checked into Motel Sadness and sat down my bags of discontent.
The mini bar was stocked well, so I grabbed the gin and mixed the tonic of my life, crushed in my Lemon Eyes, raised my glass, gave a toast, telling them all I was Sorry for ever crossing their path.
I downed that motherfucker in one gulp and prepared another,
and another, and another… for the Heart heart head of thoughts that were sure to come.
The day disappeared as night consumed, wrapping me up like a A Bolt from the Blue. I laid there. Just laid there until she came. I heard her jimmy the lock of my life and Desire walked on through. She was high, and not very lady like as she straddled me,
high heels digging, she whispered with the reddest lips wrapped in  a wicked grin,
“I really want you to hate me, Cuz I’ll never love you baby”.  Then she got up and walked out to join a passing Parade.
So I got up….left my room and I ran and ran, like a child wild in a playground
down a street with no shadows; even though the street lamps cast
a deep sodium glow.
It seems I can’t even entice a dark silhouette to accompany me. Make a Shadow  I intoned Make a Shadow  so I dove,  into a dumpster deep, and mingled with the garbage heaped, and fell fell fast asleep.
The Morning after came and the bears were rummaging, waking me from a better world
not so obscene.
I couldn’t face the ground with  its vicious disregard to support so I climbed and climbed up the fire escape to the tippity top of the tar covered roof, sticky from the bright midday sun and jumped.
The dust flew from wings in full extension as a Feather floated to the alley below but I was light and I went up;  on currents caught, finally realizing I was free.
Go….
Go…
Go…
Said my soul,  Go
be that beautiful Monster they all believe you to be.

by Philip  Wardlow 2016

feathers
by Raven555Lady
Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

Thoughts Fly

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The mind follows where the thoughts fly to, from plummeting to the darkest deep depths of despair , to soaring above a sun kissed peak of pleasing passions, or to perch on naked branch as a comforting wind caresses you, letting you know you are never alone in the world.

ThougthsFly

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

Ship in a Bottle

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ShipBottle

 

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