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
When younger, my life seemed in constant change and turmoil at times; parents fighting, my mom running. Always never knowing what was to come next around the corner. Where I might live. What school I might be attending. What friends I might have. What was right, what was wrong. My dad dying. My brothers fighting with me. Stealing from me.
Seeing my family change from happy to bitter and mean and depressed. Seeing them all slowly falling into this pit of darkness and destruction in their own personal lives by all their endless trippings of mistakes they were making and I could do nothing but watch them. I loved them all and I had no guidance myself for what it meant to be a man. My dad died when I was about twelve but my mom had separated and took us from him years before, but I held to him though. The memory of what I knew of my Dad. His caring eyes, his patience, his slow almost reluctance rise to anger. His calm knowledge and assurance of all things that he did teach me before he died.
I pulled him forward with me through time from my terrible junior high days of almost homelessness and trying to maintain decent grades at a school that expected your best at all times. I kept my head up and my smile even through my failings knowing my time would come and I would eventually win through.
I made friends… some good for me, some not so good but they all helped me learn who I was and who I wasn’t and who I wanted to aspire to be as a man all the while my father echoed in my mind.
Girls and Women showed me my failings growing up as the stupid teenager and man later in life that I was. I failed them all in certain ways which caused them to fail me. A collective comedy of errors on all our parts with no blame or disparages to throw.
I found we are all human. All failures big or small.
I have changed. I have grown. I have failed and will probably fail again. But I have learned, I am wiser, I stand taller. I do not look down or am ashamed. Because the past is not me. I am me right now.
Ever moving forward to bigger things.
by Philip Wardlow 2018
a funny grain
that gets stuck
like a piece of
And spitting never helps, so purse
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.
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
By Philip Wardlow 2017