Tag Archives: people

The, I am Rights


I have met them,
The, I am Rights,
They give you a sidelong
glance and a chuckle
as you present
the realness
of you and of them,
of feelings simply
felt with no malice.

Yet they seem to be
able not to respond
with a kind word, but
they instead double down
in their derision.

It’s as if they have
already made up
their mind of what they
will say before you
ever uttered a word.

I am sorry the world
broke you.

I am sorry life can’t
be a perfect scenario.

I am not your keeper
I can’t heal what is
broken in you.
That’s on you.
I can listen though, I can learn
I can open my own heart
So I in turn can
see the rights and wrongs
of it all in your world
and you can perhaps see mine
too.

by Philip Wardlow – August 2020

Skin Hunger


If you had told me I would have
yearned for a simple handshake,
months from now,
I would have scoffed at such a silly notion.

If you would had said a hug from
a loved one was a distant memory
and that only through dreaming in bed
at night could such an implausible embrace happen,
I would have laughed in your face.

No light touches, no manly shoulder to shoulder hugs,
no holding hands, no fist bumps,
no incidental brushing of skin against
skin in the everyday going on
of life.
None of that.

I am bereft and unaware of the warmth
or coldness of a cheek or simple palms of another,
stolen is the smile behind
a mask that might have touched my soul
as they looked my way in the incidental
happenings of a mere
day.

There is a gnawing
Deep
A pang
Inside
Screaming
A hunger
threatening to consume
To feel
To know
the innocent
intimate
touch
of another.

by Philip Wardlow, May 12th, 2020

I dream


I dream of dumping
the sadness
at the curb for the
trash man to collect
I dream of punching a wall
until my
knuckles bleed out
all the hurt
collected in my
heart that
I can never define.

I dream of jumping into cold, cold water
and finding the funny
in the deepness of life
Laughing at redeemptive jokes
over and over
of life sagas played
out by man.
Being seen and not being seen
being alone to think
or sharing a moment
with another that
sees life exactly as
I do.
I dream of communicating a thought
in it’s entirety by
just sending it to
someone.
Going home through time and
seeing my father
hearing his voice,
knowing his face
again.
Laughing with my brothers
cooking with my mother
I dream of a
peace to finally
find the me
that resides
within.

by Philip Wardlow 2019

In knowing


 

There is a danger in knowing you
too well Miss Light.
Indeed,
like a stormchaser
racing after a tornado
down a back road
with no outlet.
Then the twister suddenly turns,
No escape,
and only beautiful obliteration
Follows
No pieces left of me
to find.
Just a lonely road
as the funnel slowly
rotates up and away
to fade into the
heavens
as if it never was.

Philip Wardlow 2017.

 

The Dead Half of Her


 


 

 

I don’t need to connect with you on any level

that means anything.

Why should I?

Let’s keep it frivolous

Let’s keep it small.

But I’ll put on a smile for you

once in a while

to give

you give you  a reason

to hang on.

To show you that you entertain me

just a bit.

But we both know that there is a dead half

to me, she said

And it  will never come alive for you.

Sure were friends, she said.

Sure.

 

 

by Philip Wardlow 2017

Mirage in You


What shall I say of the mirage in you.

Bright eyes, delicate soul,

with tenacious heart

beating,

Blood running, spilling.

(or was it alligator tears)

It wasn’t until I slipped, did I finallymirage

read the sign, “Be careful, wet floor.”

You think too much of yourself

and not nearly enough

All IN or ALL OUT.

Absolutes seem to be your trademark.

You are perfection.

You are lovely.

You are alone.

And you like it like that. ( no you don’t)

Mirages are only real to the person

observing, not the mirage  itself.

It knows its not real.

Then you

suddenly

disappeared.

 

by Philip Wardlow 2016