Death appreciates life , just as life appreciates death.
Both are impartial to the other.
A cold touch caresses the
beauty which flits to and fro
with seemingly
chaotic intention.
How are we are to interpret the horrors of this vitality
when we ourselves are trapped in a purgatory
of our own design?
Perhaps a small light
shall lead the way for each of us
in our final hours as we lay
in our deep dark
grave.
By Philip Wardlow
Life can feel like this sometimes, a never-ending horde of zombies.
But you gotta punch, kick, …fight fight fight…
and say “fuck you little dead eyed bastards….”
’til eventually you are the last one standing.
by Philip Wardlow
Desolate Dame
You give him a grin
and forget it all when he
grabs a breast.
He smiles that same stellar smile
that trapped you so long
ago.
You sweat it all out through sexual labors
and forget…
all the moments meandering
constant
in the frontal lobe of your brain that aches
to cut him loose and send him downstream
to go cascading off a cliff.
Yet you play the martyr to his Mussolini,
tied up and tortured in the town square,
while all the passerby’s look the other way.
Weakness
Doesn’t become you.
Defiance should rule.
But yet you grin all over again
when he grabs your breast.
Philip Wardlow 2013
Lazy Days
Orb bright over head,
Naked we lay…tanning.
I kiddingly ask if I can lay the palm
of my hand on your ass
and just leave it there.
I tell you casually while the sun bakes us,
that we have about another 100,000 yrs
of evolution to go before we stop believing
the bullshit we speak now.
Dark clouds move in as old Mr. Nimbus blows.
A storm is coming…hopefully it only
blows away the shit we don’t need in
our lives.
Sorry babe…
Feeling melancholy again I guess.
I get lost in the fantasy, because the reality of it all,
is so much different than we suppose.
Fantasy….Reality? Each one has its place.
Haven’t decided which of the two is
stranger yet.
We grab our towels as old Mr. Nimbus spits on us
and go inside to have nice a cold beer .
Philip Wardlow 2013
KISA Syndrome
“Why ME?” she asks
I don’t know.
Because you let me in.
Because you’re a good person.
Beautiful,
Intelligent,
Passionate,
But most of all because you’re so full of despair.
…and I have a sword.
Philip Wardlow 2013
***********************************************************************************************
Above three poems originally featured in an online publication called Boyslut – http://boyslutpublications.com/
Shooting Star
I made a wish on a
star that was falling.
How foolish was I?
Perhaps wishes are a fancy
best left for little kids in the backyard
on a warm summer night,
because I can’t afford them anymore.
At the end of the rainbow you say?
I need what’s in that pot to pay for them all.
All those wishes made long ago.
Well that’s a long fucking walk to take in a day.
Cuz, that old damn rainbow seems to move
away with every careful step I take.
Now if I could find that shooting star
That just fell from the sky so high from
outer space into my backyard.
Feel it’s warmth, it’s fading half remembered glow,
as I hold it with hands held tight.
Well that would be something I reckon
That would be alright.
By Philip Wardlow
Stuff
I was busy doing stuff when you came upon me…
That smile you directed at me got me thinking about stuff.
Wonderful stuff it was indeed,
especially when you walked away
and your stuff swayed and sashayed.
But what stuff did I have to offer you?
My smile wasn’t as bright, my pockets were bare, my soul not quite right,
I didn’t shine.
Our stuffs didn’t compare.
Yet you smiled.
and all that stuff went away in the instant it was thought.
So we wined and dined, talked and walked
held hands, and kissed on a bridge while the moon hung high.
Later, my stuff came up close to your stuff,
then went into your stuff while my stuff moved all about and around.
Your stuff was monumental.
So I made you my wife.
Such is the stuff
of life.
by Philip Wardlow
Somewhere in the Middle
Goldilocks was a high maintenance bitch;
just eat the damn porridge
and get in bed!
Too small,too big
Too hot,too cold
Too hard, too soft.
Big, hot, and hard
and she couldn’t take it.
Never quite right.
Never quite satisfactory.
She was looking for something
perfectly somewhere in the middle.
Golden curls flowed past
shoulders which never knew
beautiful burdens.
Lips laughed at another’s pain
while a hypocrite’s snarl formed
future wrinkles to flourish
into old age.
Blue eyes never saw beyond
the vale which she never
chose to lift.
She was a pretty petite THING,
the ugly cute troll under the bridge,
in her own graceless sort of
way.
Payment was always expected.
The world owed her the world.
Not once pausing….in her thinking…to reflect.
There is no you…only us,
and your somewhere in the middle
of it all just like me.
By Philip Wardlow 2013
A fellow blogger who runs the blog, “Kloipy Speaks” whom I follow and who incidentally follows me recently asked fellow bloggers and passerby to his sight to name two things which make them happy while at the same time makes them sad. He called it The Kloipy Projects: So Happy I’m Sad. Go check him out and see what he’s about if you would like. (but not before you finish this damn blogpost…me first)
He got me to thinking –
Hmmm, I wondered….what the hell possibly makes me sad and happy. Is it eating a bowl of ice cream and then suddenly that bowl of ice cream is empty? No, that does not make me happy and sad. Just happy and wanting more. So happy and pathetic was not the question.
So I thunk and thunk and thunk (picture Pooh bear tapping paw to head)
Eureka…!
Via the ice-cream skewed analogy above. I discovered that most things which make a person sad and happy are things that were good in the past but came to an end or morphed into something other than the original happenstance or experience. So really for me, it results in nostalgia for something. So here are my two happy/sad moments which I always continue to have…I will also preface that the happy outweighs the sad by a factor of ten for me.
Experience #1:
When I first walk into a comic book shop and get a whiff of the old musty smell which inhabits the nooks and cranies surrounding every corner. It fills my senses and induces a slight euphoria in my being and makes me at one with the world for a moment. Yeah, heavy stuff I know. But that’s what I feel. It feels so good to be in a comic book store…the synapses in my brain fire and bring about all my childhood memories growing up, delving and diving into a fantastic world of make believe and mayhem. It takes me back…then I’m sad just a little because I’m not that same person…I’ve grown up. I have a family, responsibilities, obligations…I can’t be carefree anymore…I have to engage in this thing called life.
Experience #2:
My wife over the years – and I have known her many years – has made mixed tapes and mix CDs for me as I did for her. Its one of those romantic gestures you make when your in love. Its a tribute to your relationship and your acknowledgment of how much they mean to you. Every once in a while, I will pop one in and listen to it…
I am of course happy because the world seemed a simpler place. A fresh world of new possibilities and burgeoning experiences to be shared with a new love. Fresh raw primal passions (sexual) to envelope yourself in. Then I am sad a little, because some endearments can get lost or morphed from what they once were…not in a bad way just different….and some things you realize can never be the same but you find in that difference a new richness grows. There in its place is something more special that can only happen with time tested events and the chaos that life brings.
So there you have it…I hope you enjoyed my little trip into my brain….make sure to scrape your shoes on the mat before you leave. I don’t think you would want to be walking around with my thoughts on the bottom of your shoes mucking about in your world.
Feel free to share your own thoughts on what makes your sad and happy at the same time. I would love to hear them. Cheers.
Shut the hell up cuz you got luck
so take it and run with it.
The suitcase I carry isn’t full
of the…
horseshoes,shamrocks,
or Maneki-neko lucky cats.
It’s got more of the broken bits
of mirrors that I have collected
over the years or the dead black
cats that have called it home…
Sure your pain is yours,
own it…I don’t care,
but don’t ever think it compares
to my level of despair.
Don’t whine and don’t bitch while
your lucky number seven sits on your
back and lifts you up while my
thirteen has been nothing but mean
to me, bringing me down to depths
that hell can’t even see.
I have my magpie of sorrow
who talks to me often…he thinks
it a joke to lead to me believing
that the world works at times.
But I do care for the lucky ones, so
don’t let him catch your eye.
Take your luck and run with it,
and maybe just maybe you won’t
end up with the same luck as me.
By Philip Wardlow 2012
 Life goes and goes…and nobody knows truly why….you can tell me you truly know…and I will nod my head and say yeah, I suppose, and not seek to dismiss cuz I’m like that – to each their own – …but deep inside I’m still surmising, guessing, hoping…I do believe there is some purpose to this space and time that we occupy. But could that be the secret? That we apply a purpose to begin with. Whatever the case, I believe Will, Desire and Intention have a power all their own..so we will see when all the lights are turned off and the door is finally locked tight and the sign is finally hung….what mysteries may await us after closing time. By Philip Wardlow |
undone in spectacle
she writes
A Wheel of Time Community
Mind • Body • 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
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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
weird alien 👽
undone in spectacle
she writes
A Wheel of Time Community
Mind • Body • 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
weird alien 👽
Ain't no rest for the Wicked - Philip Wardlow - The real and the sensual sides to life in all its facets.. 