Tag Archives: love

Encounters with women


Six masterpieces Titian painted for Philip II of Spain have been reunited  for the first time since the 16th century - Washington Post

As she  walked down the hall,  every up and down turn of her hips mesmerized me more than a  snake charmers dance with  a cobra…

She was  a petulant child trapped in  a woman’s body  with the insatiable  appetite of a sexual succubus, 

She  confessed her desires, let me have all of her, then used me up, cast me aside,  and then knocked on my door and asked for it again and I obliged her with a smile and let her in.

I would have come and danced with her in the rain but sometimes I liked to watch  from afar and get lost in the beauty exploding from her smile.

Neither one of her two sides were her but both together made her who she was.

Her  curves were  beautiful, from hip to lip, from breasts to almond eyes, She took delight in letting me help her with all her secret sins that her mind meandered to.

Even the want of  death is life because its a feeling. Hold on to life through that feeling and claw your way out of your loose soiled grave dear girl.

When ever she bent over or reached up for something upon a shelf, did she know how absolutely enticing her body  looked when she did  it?  I’m thinking she did…

Violence never solved anything but it sure did look sexy on her in that moment in bed…

When she leaned her  face first  against the wall  wearing that silk dress knowing I knew she was  not wearing anything beneath, the invitation was too much to bear.

She  was  a magnet to me the first time I laid eyes upon  her and she has  been every day since.

by Philip Wardlow June 1st, 2022

 

My loose change


Ah melancholy you, melancholy me.
Twins of pains throughout our separate travels
in lands and time blown away by great
distances and choices right or wrongly
made.

You clutch dearly to your past like a child does a doll
all tattered and torn since received from her inception 
from the womb that bore here into this world.

Myself in that journey I took. and of which
I am still on, I fumble  in my pockets, fiddling with the
 loose change of memories I have always kept close
and collected throughout time.

Both predilections  in the way we cope in our
own entanglements are  either 
a solace, a penance, a nuisance, or
constant curse.

Why not us both seek a new  habit?

You throw down your doll 
I shall let my change fall
through my fingers as I grab
your hands tight in mine
and  continue 
our travels
together.


by Philip Wardlow  March 29th, 2022



The Dance


To and fro we go in life and all its pains  collected along the way.

In the beginning, a Tango,  feet sliding down the floor,
full of exuberant steps of youth with a crazy devil may care.
Never tiring,  head up, steps sure even if we fuck up
with every other step made. 

We are in motion, forward or back ,we are in motion
and that  is everything to  the youthful 
whether in body or the heart
it is everything.



By Philip Wardlow  March 21, 2022

My Perfect Heart


She loves me without question.
Adores me in the fullest.
Leaves me wondering what she sees in little old me.


This sweet, wonderfully funny, bombastically beauty of a woman with her chameleon like gorgeous sexy,  flourishing soul that beguiles me from her red hair to her dainty toes, from an arc of an eyebrow to the sway of her luscious hips in play, she always seems to get her way with every delicious day I find myself with her.

I have the clover, the horseshoe, the rabbit’s foot, and shooting star all wrapped up in her.

She’s my lucky charm I hold tight to, that magic that I delight to.

She is my wife, my perfect heart.

Forever my Valentine.

By Philip Wardlow Feb 14th 2022

The Everything and the Nothing


If I were to suddenly evanesce, to flee, to disappear, 
to run fast and headlong into the bright nothingness of the night,
what ruin would find my absence?

Would their be sick wailing siren calls of the once was
reaching my soul's ears 
through the
nothingness of me?

I hope not. Not Wailing over me.... a tear or two will do, followed
quickly with a laugh.

But I do not wish to know the old world anymore after I am gone.
Why dry up and go, if to only to still receive drops of the
once-was in a teacup, to simply drink bitterly
of.

Remember me or don't, for I will not care as
I lie afloat amongst the stars, dreaming of new
things, new worlds, new excursions to catapult
a frayed mind to healing, to repair a ripped soul
torn asunder.

Cry and smile in the same instant is
all I ask of you if you do remember, for I
liked to be missed in both respects.
So I guess I do care a little at that.

I believe in everything and nothing in this Universe and I
would miss both aspects were I to finally fall into the
abyss of what-not and possibly nothings.
 
I enjoy the Everything of  people healing of the
cuts they give themselves and get,  and its wondrously satisfying
to partake in living in that magical epiphany 
of them 
I do not enjoy the Nothing, in the sense that 
they will continually scratch the scabs to bleeding
every so often and there is no mop big enough, 
nor pail of water full enough 
to ever fully clean it all up.

I am tired of slipping in their blood.
The Everything of them is wonderful
buy sometimes the Nothing of them
becomes all too much. 


By Philip Wardlow Dec, 2021










 





 

	

From her eyes,to her smiles and hips


There is no greater story than us…

To meet during the chaos of our lives as the cruel planet revolved endlessly around.

The Universe said, “Here, take a look at this, isn’t it all you have ever wished for?”

“Yes, yes it is,” I replied inside, “she’s the type of girl I could love.”

From the come fuck-me eyes, to that open sweet smile, to those hips which told a future tale of open thighs letting me inside, from her warm heart to her internal heat.

When the Universe speaks, you better listen hard, for she may only whisper but once.

I didn’t blink, I didn’t turn away. I smiled back.

I saw her that night, fully. Her and I, laid out together for the next years of our lifetime and perhaps well beyond if the myths be true.

She was the one, she is the one.

From her eyes, to her smile, to her hips and well beyond.

By Philip Wardlow Aug 26th, 2021

I know I won’t cry


They say parents shouldn’t outlive their kids, but should an older brother outlive their younger?

Much like a parent, the older brother directs, and protects the course of the younger.

Unlike parents, the older brother can also be a partner, a fellow perpetrator of many a fun misdeed gone awry. That is where bonds lie deepest, where intimate secrets are kept and held between a kin closer than that of the mother or father.

Sharing of sins, and the punishment of those sins, sharing in the joys and adventures that is youth in its whole.

You share a core with that little brother that none may know. It’s unspoken but known to the bone between you two.

To the Bone.

It’s honored, it’s delicate. It’s something that always dwells.

So when you see your little brother, dismal and seemingly damned, fallen and fragile, raging against an unknown foe and miles from the place in him from where he was once was, you know.

Where in the core that you share, now only dwells despair, you weep, and you weep, and you weep in the silence where no sees, because a man doesn’t cry, they simply don’t.

You know you won’t cry as he lies in a casket, all dressed and prettied up. You know you won’t cry when other’s speak of him in passing or come up to you with a hug, and “I am sorry for your loss”

You know you won’t cry simply because you have already cried so much as bit by bit of your little brother was pulled from you, excised with a sharp knife, and put into a blender and pureed to mush.

By Philip Wardlow June 2021

The First Time


 

love
I love recalling the past of  you when we first met, when the Universe nudged me into you, I remember your first smile,  shy but sly, your  first
laugh, full and inviting.  your body as it danced, swaying and in sync with my own.
I remember your eyes looking at me with a lust of a thousand lovers, 
then later with love like a thousand poems 
I don’t want to forget
the first time of knowing you
and everything that pulled
me into those eyes, running.
I want all the songs that are ours
to wrap up around us
every time you walk into the room
I don’t want to forget you the first time.

Because those first times always bring me home to you and I  love you all over again just like the first time.

 

by Philip Wardlow  May 19th, 2021

If I Died TOmoRROW


Kah Thump…….Kah Thump………………………………………….. ……………….KahThump…………….Thump………………Ka Thump…………………..Kah Thump……………….Kaaaaaaaah Thuuuuuuuuuuuump

98.2 Fahrenheat Degrees, 98.1, 98.0 and so on and on, down, down, down, until I am a cold rigid plank, as rigid as a piece of flesh could be anyway.

Call me Rigor, Mr. Mortis if you’re nasty.

As I say this, I realize the parts of me that will live, will go on in pictures, videos, my writings, and half memories in other people’s distracted minds yet still alive.

That’s kinda cool.

Cry at my funeral or laugh…or do both. I would prefer both. Please also drink and dance afterwards. That drunk girl over there though, twerking over my casket has got to go.

Talk about the dumb shit I did, talk about a kind word or two I threw at you, or when I asked you for nudes. By the way, I’m still waiting on one of your butt. When you finally take it, send it UP. Or is that DOWN?

I’m sure it’s UP, I haven’t been that bad in my life;

I have never kicked a puppy, only petted. But I have hit many a pussy in my lifetime if you know what I mean, and they never complained, and I petted them before and after as they purred graciously.

I was kind, immature, caring, needy, a charmer, careless of others feelings, repentant, codependent, then dependent on only me, then I met Red, a magical creature needing a safe harbor and I gave it.

I loved all the magic which poured forth from her, for I saw it had been bottled up for so long and it needed a nurturing voice to keep it flow, flow, flowing. I am content that I helped her find herself and to show her she was always good enough from the very beginning of her life.

I’ve always wanted to be seen as a good person, but it took me awhile to realize you have to BE a good person to truly be seen as a good person; to yourself most especially. After you do, everything else that follows is just gravy.

Mmmm gravy…I wonder if they have gravy UP there?

by Philip Wardlow May 7th, 2021

Mystical You


She discovered me in the darkness, coming to me wrapped in alluring music and
undulating waves of red and blue light, she burst into me
with a beckoning and a proposal to envelope her in
all that was and all that ever would be beautiful
in the universe.
So I jumped,
Fears falling away,
Her soul enthralling
enchanting, calling
to my own that I had
forgotten, and I fell
and fell and fell.

She’s my mystic, my medium,
my witch, and my fortunes
come home to rest
in arms wide open

She’s my princess,my queen
The Milady of my heart

She’s all the magic I’ve ever wanted.

By Philip Wardlow March 2021