In The End~
“Show me a little more sin,” he said.
You knew the ways of men 
so you smiled,
giving him a wicked grin,
as you lifted your skirt,
and listed all the
things in your head you
would take from him
in the end.
by Philp Wardlow 2016
Tag Archives: lust
In your pants
Romance exists,
just as much as bullshit exists,
to get into those tight pants you’re wearing,
but I want to stay and help with the laundry
and fold those pants with you later.
by Philip Wardlow 2016
Fill up my time fish
Fill up my time fish~
She said, “Fill up my time
while I wait for something
that I can finally keep
to drop on by.”
He said, “You’ll do,
you beautiful thing you,
now hurry , spread your legs as
my want of you is almost up.”
You are my novelty for the day,
the week, the month, the year,
as my desires
run their phases like the moon
runs its course across the skies
a hundred thousand million times.
You didn’t know it, but you did.
You hoped, but you still did.
Our original sin, over and over again.
That seems to be half the fun.
Are we all hobbies? Habits?
Frivolous fantasies and disastrous
desires run amok?
Dear affections that grab us like
a child holding tight to a goldfish
in a brand new bowl.
We all know what happens to that fish.
by Philip Wardlow 2016
Her Body –
Her Body
I noticed her body after her beguiling faced walked in.
It spoke and sang to me with a swaying of heavy hip action.
If only I could dial back my desire then the stars would align,
but the god given geometry wrapping around that frame
would make a chaste man wonder why he went insane
as he saw curves creating arcs upon arcs
intertwining to manifest into shapes
only nature could conceive.
In the lovely female form
there’s a weakness
in me because as she
walks across the room
I continue to gaze while my
rapture increases knowing her body is
hidden beneath thin layers that only deepen
the mystery of a softness that is surely there.
What if I were to simply let my hands wonder
where they wish to go, to peek lightly with
fingertips in a caress down her naked back
with all intent to travel on if my bold
desires permitted such an act.
I know my place, but she
will learn my charms,
she will see my face,
and look deep into
my eyes and
wonder if
tonight I
am her
fate.
By Philip Wardlow
Burn – A poem
Burn~
Let me learn you.
Let me take residence
in your mind
for the moment
and kick up my feet
next to the fireplace
inside of you.
Let me feed that fire,
stoke it…shift it,
sustain it as I warm myself.
What are the limits
you will climb to?
Will you burn the house down
to get to me?
Will you eat and eat like
a fire does.
Consuming everything
wanting more and more?
Go ahead.
For I will burn with you.
From deep red, to a pale yellow
to bright orange,
dancing and blinding
in the night.
I will burn with you
leaving nothing left
but ashes in the
end.
by Philip Wardlow 2015
Her – A poem
Her ~
Her nature is fluid
a whisper
a scream
a jest
A consistent wanting
ever disguised.
How to cope with her?
Ha!
Now that is a trick question!
You do not cope.
You do not endure.
You do not wish.
Simply be,
like a kite in the wind
letting your tail be your anchor
as the breeze blows,
keeping you aloft.
Floating upon her currents.
You fly…
higher
and higher.
Never questioning
why
as you just enjoy the ride.
by Philip Wardlow 2015
Haikus of many flavors
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
Watching you Read – An erotic love Poem
Watching you Read –
Eyes downcast.
Intent.
Hardbound book in hand,
fingers lay splayed around its spine
caressing it with a familiar grip.
An upward curl of your lips,
as baby blues dilate
momentarily
to drink in the words upon the page.
What adventure do you ride into?
What romance causes the rush I
see to come to pale pink cheeks?
Does the beat of your heart quicken, as
the rising action lifts your senses to the edge,
only to send you cascading off a cliff?
You are a mystery written in a foreign tongue, a conundrum, an enigma, a puzzle
within a puzzle.
Had I the time
to spy all my days
as you luxuriate with knees
drawn up in quiet
meditation,
lost in a world of someone’s else’s
creation.
I would count myself a very
lucky man.
by Philip Wardlow 2014
Ain't no rest for the Wicked - Philip Wardlow - The real and the sensual sides to life in all its facets.. 