Tag Archives: love

The Me you See


 

The me you see, is just a pale umbra of whom I’m supposed to be.

I’ve come to  a wall and I can’t make the jump,

I try and I try and just bounce the hell off.

But what I really don’t know is that I’m just a toad in the road

and it’s just a small curb on a street.

It’s a cliff so sheer and high that it’s a trick to belie the eye.

I tell myself one more jump…kerplunk!

My little toad head hurts like hell from all the bashing

against the wall.

If I can just find that perfect crack to start me on my crawl to wind my way up.

But that would require luck…fuck!

Where the hell am I going to get any of that?

So I’m a toad.

Not a frog a princess can kiss

to relieve me of this predicament.

Sorry, no frog underneath this frog-like veneer miss.

But I will be the prince of toads one day.

Fuck the frog I say!

So I look for that crack in the wall,

no matter how small,

to eventually make my way

up and over.

To that other me

that I don’t yet see,

The Prince of Toads,

in all of his bumpy

brown glory.

 

by Philip Wardlow 2017

Seeing You


If I were a blind man
and had only a touch
to trace a picture of you
I would kiss you first
as I made a joke
My lips against yours
along with a feather stroke
of my hand against
a fully rounded cheek
I would be in that smile
as I breathed your
essence in.
A flock of goosebumps
springing up upon your skin.
as a fingertip slowly just ever so
traveled down a
shoulder and arm to
trembling hands
in anticipation of
wants to come.
Your body leaning in
your curves filling into
the niche of me.
A puzzle complete.
Heat transfers
Coalescing
Two minds mingling
You are a picture
complete.
with other eyes
that have always
seen you.

by  Philip Wardlow 2017

Vintage Dreams


 

Time,

a funny grain

that gets stuck

like a piece of

grit between

clenched teeth.

And spitting never helps, so purse

your lips

tightly.

Dreams,

A fickle fable

held in high esteem

as you tell the story

of a wonderful what-if

while the stars loftly

laugh at you in the dark ink blot above.

Grip the grass you lay upon

as the earth tilts just ever so.

Love,

Oh love,

Where for art thou?

Romeo was a fool to seek

a party where all the players

knew their part  while all the

while Juliet had cotton stuffed

in her ears like a silly Teddy bear,

seeing  only your pretty little

mouth move without a

sound.

 

 

By Philip Wardlow 2017

 

 

 

 

My appetite


 

spectactular

She comes home

and does what she wants.

Does what? We don’t know.

She wont say.

But it’s not much,

because she’s cut off and closed away.

Far and in-between the what-if

of her.

She is a melancholy angry mess

I can’t put my thumb on her

and she’d break it if I tried.

But I do, because I can, and she lets me pry;

however reluctantly,

because that’s all I have ever done.

I speak the truth, because lies are boring vicious things.

Even though the truth is often painful

as a motherfucker,

it’s freeing,

casual and a sweetness

rolled into a ball and

swallowed down

that speaks to my

appetite.

Which always

hungers.

 

By Philip Wardlow 2016

 

I could Never


thekiss_starwars

 

I could never have chosen a more difficult woman.

Defiant brown eyes always challenging,

yet soften when I lean in with just the right words

whispered in your ear.

I may be scruffy but I know you secretly

like a man with a little hair and to warm

your hands with my own.

So, I will give you my best grin and tell you

I’ll swing by in the Falcon at eight

and we will travel to Dathomir

for a wild and fun filled date.

And never mind what Lando says,

for he’s just a Rogue  like me.

They can’t be trusted;

unless you have stolen their heart.

Know that you have, even

as you push me away to pull

me in tight.

I know you need a good kiss

and I have many to lend.

For I could never

leave you wanting

Unless it was all according

to my devious plan…. 🙂

 

 

by Philip Wardlowfalcon

 

 

 

 

 

 

I play


faun-and-nymph-by-sydney-long

She knows not that I watch her soul

smiling idly out behind eyes blue flecked

with bits of gold.

I play a light and airy tune with wood and wind

Nestled deep in forest glen,

Just for her, as always promised.

Notes ride the air,

seeking purchase within her mind to push aside

a raven’s deep abiding dark claim.

For there resides a tumultuous churning,

ever undulating

as I try and intertwine

and weave, a melody

with my fool’s flute,

dipping an octave or

two going in.

Delicate…invisible…searching.

Enveloping.

Again, I spy your smile sneak out

as my delving takes.

And a shadow or two

that was once another you

loosens it purchase

and takes flight.

 

by Philip Wardlow

My Killer Girlfriend


 

Huntress

 

I knew the moment I spied you

that the devil lived behind those blues.

How long ago did you trap him, for

I see he’s itching to play.

It’s clear from our encounter,

your a girl who  can handle her boomstick

when it goes off with a kick.

Your grip on the gun is tight but loose as

silver bullets fill it, along with a gleam.

You smile that smile that I could die for as the

full moon rises, and

the day descends to glorious night.

My hand takes yours as we roam

the dank castle far beneath in the catacombs.

I’ll take the hammer,  you take the stake

as we take out a vampire or two on our first date.

When other monster’s wish to interlude upon

our first kiss your casual air and

sadistic flair with an axe

cannot be denied as the crimson droplets fly

in the midnight air….Oh, I think I’m in love!

Let’s not dawdle, let’s not hesitate in our fate.

For we have a rendezvous, me and you, and it involves

Frankenstein and the Wolfman’s  heads

on a plate.

 

by Philip Wardlow