Oh short life, that I wish were longer, lift me up to the stars so that I may float among them and touch them with shy fingertips as I gradually get to know them all intimately like a father meeting his estranged child for the first time after eons of separation and forced expulsion. A lesson had to be learned before I could return to the stars….a lesson deep and longing …personal and reflective for each that finally find their final resting place to call home….
I grin ~
I grin at danger or a challenge,
I grin at life when I know its trying to beat me down
just as I’m grinning at you now
as you lie naked on my bed.
by Philip Wardlow 2015
Mr. Moon ~
Why oh why Mr. Moon do you walk
hands in pockets, eyes downcast,
as the stars sit in there satin blue sheet,
surrounding?
Don’t you know it’s all for you?
No eyes but yours can see
all that the sky can give.
Feel blessed in this.
Earthly trappings are not the
core of your constance.
Nor the phases you
endure in your
soul’s search
for permanence.
Even in shadow,
yet you are still whole.
Even though no others
may see.
You will always be whole.
by Philip Wardlow 2014
Music ~
Ride Ride that wave that cascades down your soul and over that mind in quarter time…flow flow…and juxtapose that tapping of those feet with that beat in the bass…let me see that smile shine as your teeth flash in a wicked grin …let the sweat pour down as you thump and bump…dance dance and ride ride that wave that rolls ….as you never ever have reason to complain when the music comes to stay stay stay….now play boy play!
Philip Wardlow 2014
Perishable~
My finger, one finger
traces down her temple
over her sweet cheeked smile
eyes lighted
just for me
just for me…
So many emotions
behind that smile for me
I must take each of them that
I discover and put them in their own mason jar
and screw the lid down tight
for safe keeping.
To preserve
what surely will be lost.
For you see, we are all delicate
things.
Perishable.
This environment is not kind
to such fragile creatures.
But I wonder.
What is ever meant to last?
I reach for one of the mason jars
and take it down off upon the shelf,
unscrew its top, and tip
its’ contents into my waiting mouth.
I smile and reach for another.
by Philip Wardlow 2015
Embers in Transition ~
My nature has always been as bright embers…
clumped, low and smoldering
always smoldering within me.
Never roaring, never a conflagration
never wanting to burn bright,
to consume and conquer.
A fearful ball of flame, apprehensive
of overreaching its borders,
Self constrained and wrapped tight.
Hidden and held down.
I’m burning up.
layer by slow layer from the inside.
I need to let it trickle out
and let the air in.
Feed it,
give it what it wants….
So it can truly burn like
it has always wished
it could
From without.
by Philip Wardlow 2014
“Objects in life, be it a story,poem,or photograph, which are filled with a perfect passion reminds and guides us to strive for a portion of it…” – by Me
Skipping ~
My mind skips to you,
Hip kick, quippy smile girl
I try not to trip.
*******************************
My Hands ~
I smile knowingly,
her breasts were made for my hands
As were other parts.
******************************
Whispers ~
Hidden words whisper,
As her soul shouts to be heard
Mirror doesn’t tell.
******************************
Little Kitten ~
Kittens fangs are short
Paws petite, but claws sharpened
Feral to the bone.
*******************************
Fire ~
Roaring fires burn
buried deep in the mind
my eyes shine with it.
********************************
Red Wine ~
Keyed up in body
Red mixed with red finds the head
as my eyes find you.
By Philip Wardlow
I will never know certain parts of life …but only see them in silhouette and shadow….or as a dim chalk line on a pavement as I walk by….
Mysteries which flit
Images at the edge.
Questions never answered.
Isn’t that glorious.
by Philip Wardlow
Just Me-
I dibble and I dabble
leap like a Lemur and laze around like a Lion…
I run like a fox and find my friends in the dark forest .
The shadows wrap around me and I call them home…
my passions run deep down many avenues you wouldn’t care to drive I’m sure..
I will smile as you smile…laugh as you laugh…
life is meant to be spent…
not jingled and jangled in the pocket all day long.
by Philip Wardlow 2014
Real & unreal stories.
undone in spectacle
she writes
A Wheel of Time Community
Health, Reflection, and Poetry for the Journey of Life
Dating, Poetry, and More
Ignorance is bliss / truth is necessary / rust in the soul
Where writers gather
Realise your innate perfection
poetry, fiction, and musings
Poetry
Erotic Fantasies
Let Your Eyes Do The Talking...
A Place to share My Love for Painting, Design, and Pottery
Hiking with snark in the beautiful Pacific Northwest 2011 - 2013
Reviews, raves, and rants. It's all about the books we read
Real & unreal stories.
undone in spectacle
she writes
A Wheel of Time Community
Health, Reflection, and Poetry for the Journey of Life
Dating, Poetry, and More
Ignorance is bliss / truth is necessary / rust in the soul
Where writers gather
Realise your innate perfection
poetry, fiction, and musings
Poetry
Erotic Fantasies
Let Your Eyes Do The Talking...
A Place to share My Love for Painting, Design, and Pottery
Hiking with snark in the beautiful Pacific Northwest 2011 - 2013
Reviews, raves, and rants. It's all about the books we read
