Tag Archives: poem

Inquiring Minds

Where I stand….Taking stock of where I’m at in my writing for the year so far

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As the title of the  blog states,  I am taking stock this month. More of a critique and review of myself and the goals I put forth for myself this year in writing to see if I’m track.

Well I started this Blog back in April of this year 2012…and before that in September 0f 2011 is when I really started getting serious with  my writing.

I mainly started this Blog back in April  to appease various publishers who want you to have a web presence for yourself so possible fans can find you and flock to you and worship you over the worldwide web….still waiting for that to happen.

I have never been great at kissing people’s asses in terms of marketing myself….I just wanna write , straight and simple.  I am sincere in my writing in my blogpost  and of my own opinions of those I follow so I hope that people that came to my blog saw that.

Now I have to stress I don’t consider myself a blogger.  I just consider this my personal website and I’m your host who wants you to know more about me and what I’m about as a writer and direct you to where you can find my latest writings whether on here, Scribd, Amazon, Smashwords, or hopefully down the line other places around the web from minor to major publishers who pick up my work.

btw…  To ring in Halloween – I will be doing a another FREEBIE promotion near Halloween this month for my Horror/Dark Fantasy Novella “Roadkill” on Amazon…so look for that to happen soon!

Back when I started this website I said I would keep you abreast of my progression of becoming a Fantasy Writer/Author . So here is a run down of what I have accomplished thus far from approximately a year ago  along with my future goals in writing for the coming year 2013.

What  I have written thus far:

Finished Works:

1. Roadkill – Horror/Fantasy Novella 24,000 words   (rejected many times by various Publishers and have went on to E-Publish it on Amazon but I am still submitting it to other publishers in the mean time.)

2. Devil in the Details – Urban Fantasy – 3,500 Words  (Rejected many times by various Publishers, but still submitting, and have sent to Beta-readers for their critique)

3. Bits and Pieces – Urban Fantasy/Scienc Fiction – 8,000 Words , Entered into major contest and awaiting results. If it doesn’t place then I will submit to publishers and show on here as well for your reading pleasure….:)

4. A Fire to Extinguish – Science Fiction – 8,700 Words , Entered into a major contest and awaiting results. If it doesn’t place then I will submit to publishers and show on here as well for your reading pleasure….:)

5. Flight through the Forest – Heroic Flash Fantasy – 2,000 – Words, Rejected by various publishers BUT did get accepted by one non-paying publication entitled Quail-Bell Magazin online-  I am still submitting to publishers aroudn the web.

6. Witch Hunt – Horror/Humor  – 4,000 Words Entering into Halloween Contest at Carnage Conservatory this year.

7.  Various Poetry amounting to approx 50-60 poems this year over approx 5,000 words between them all…I have turned some into publishers but as of yet none have been accepted…please check out most of my poetry here on my blog or over at Scribd the self publishing website. You can see most of my Poetry work here.

Current Projects:

1.  The Thing under the Bridge – Young  Adult Fantasy Novel with a goal of 85,000 Words Currently up to 5,000+words. I am finishing up some outlining and research and then will be diving back into to the writing portion to finish hopefully by End of January 2013.

2. The Grate  –  Dark Urban Fantasy Story – 10,000 to 17,000 Word Goal currently  up 2,000 Words. This will be another Contest entry before Dec 31st, 2012,   and then later with submissions to various Publishers. (and will show on here as well)

3. From a Dark Place – Dark Fantasy Story – 10,000 to 17,000 Word Goal currently up to 4,000 Words. This will be another Contest entry for March 31st, 2013 Deadline, and then later with submissions to various Publishers. (and will show on here as well)

I am always brainstorming and have many small ideas as memos in my notes future story ideas BUT first these above must be finished and fleshed out completely..

I am trying to take the advice of a professional succesful writer who said it’s best to lose count of how many stories you have written  then you know your working at a good pace.  I know I am not there yet with that by a long shot but still I definitely want to have quality over quantity any day for my writing.

So I ask you to check out ALL my stuff that has been divulged to you thus far on here and other websites and comment if you feel like commenting on my stuff…it’s always appreciated.. THANKS

…and remember my FREEBIE for “ROADKILL” will be coming out soon on Amazon  for the Kindle or for free electronic download on your computer….how’s that for self-marketing…:)

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

If I could Climb Inside – A Poem

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I grab your head tight in a vice as you sleep sedated,

I make multiple cuts deep; past skin, past bone.

I pull back the flaps and climb inside.

Amidst a tangled mess I stand,

wires frayed and disconnected,

terminals cracked and decayed with

gears full of gunk and stuck tight

not moving.

A frown comes to my face, for this

cannot be all there is to you.

You seem to be dead inside, no lights

flicker on the walls to indicate an energy has

ever lived here…but yet I sense something.

A weak rhythmic hum travels into my feet,

as transient electrons skip through you

from somewhere buried deep.

I smile for I see there is hope yet to be had

Something yet lingers.

I set my tool bag slowly down

upon the floor and begin my work.

By Philip Wardlow

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

My Climb – A poem

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My Climb

The cold bites into my

hands as I reach for

the rocky outcrop in

my climb to the top.

The blowing wind plays with

me as it shifts from east to west

trying to fool me into shifting

my weight to the wrong position.

The sun shadows my every

move but I give it a smile and

a scowl.

I say fuck you to the elements,

I say fuck you to the gravity

that wants to pull me back

to Mother Earth.

I may be a student to this life I lead,

but you are not my master.

No one claims me.

No one drives me but

myself up this mountain

I climb.

If I ‘m going to fall,

It’s going to be because

I chose to jump.

and fly

free.

By Philip Wardlow

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

Killer Pumpkins – A poem for Halloween

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Killer Pumpkins

Ba dump…ba dump…ba ba dump.

Bump…

Bump…

They roll.

They stroll

down the streets;

orange and angry.

Why do they roll?

Why are they not in bed,

with green leaves as blankets

To cover their orange ripply heads.

I suppose they’re pissed off

for being left behind

in the patch.

What the fuck was wrong

with them, they ask.

It’s Halloween and they’ve

waited long enough.

Knives in hand with

grins carved in,

ready to show

the little tricker-treat bastards

a real killer

pumpkin.

So they roll

and they stroll

down the street.

Ba dump.

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

The Night Entreats – A poem for Halloween and the coming FALL next week!

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The crows rested in the trees;

for the killing was all done and they

were full.

Their caws as they conversed,

sounded like laughter to my ear;

as if the murders they had committed

 had been all in good fun.

The wind whistled in the trees

and nudged the dead leaves

to life across the road.

Brown and gold skittered like roaches

and hopped like bulbous toads

traveling in a disorganized parade

for the dead.

The bright moon held no warmth

for it worked with the cold wind

and played through the trees to

cast pale blue shadows upon me.

Figures of dark demons, witches, and imps

danced in front and behind as I  softly crept

 lest they hear me trespass in their day they

called night as they played.

My step quickened as the wind seemed to thicken

and pushed at me like a hand on my back.

I grabbed myself against the chill which

ran deeper than it should this fall night.

This hallowed eve, it seemed, held more magic than ages

past, more power, more darkness than the last.

An ancient magic flew on a mystic wind

That brought to my soul a feeling of dread and

memories of evils best left long gone and dead.

The night entreated and beckoned

me to come and walk off the path I was on,

to follow the dead parade as it marched on.

Perhaps I could join in the fun

and dance with the minions

of the night who ate and drank of sweet

things they called treats.

They grinned at me from out of the dark,

but I saw the trick in their eyes

as they wiped the blood from their lips

I would not be fooled

So I ran,

faster than the wind could find me,

Faster, faster, faster I ran.

until I reached my hallowed home.

and clicked the lock shut tight.

The night retreats.

by Philip Wardlow

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

My Beautiful Dead Girl – A Poem

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Haunted eyes

wrapped in misery.

You are already dead,

so why should you feel pain?

 

Pain is your purgatory

little girl, a grand gift

from scales that can never

be balanced in your favor.

 

Haunted eyes they may be,

but I see defiance, strength,

lingering deep, always

ready to rise to the surface.

 

Never did death look so beautiful

A perfection in form chiseled

from stone beaten up and torn

down by the elements.

 

You wear your cloak well,

dark and tear stained, wrapped

tight around a body that

still flies free.

 

You are my beautiful dead girl.

with cold hands clenching tight around

a warm heart

that beats just for you.

by Philip Wardlow

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

The Dark Tree – A Poem

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It swayed and creaked in

the wind.

The black silken crows

gave a queer semblance of

life to the tree,

Its bare branches covered

with a multitude perched like

the clinging of leaves.

It swayed and it creaked

and spoke of its sins,

Dark feathers fluttered,

as if to  fool a passerby’s eye

that life still dwelt in the trees dead limbs.

None made a sound, not a caw

not a screech, no  utterance did they speak;

for you see they had  been given a task long ago,

to bear silent witness to the migration

of lost souls.

For no man,

should ever die alone.

So they perched and they preened

as the body swayed and creaked

on the rope below.

by Philip Wardlow

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

The me you see… – A Poem

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

I’m just a toad at the wall who can’t make the jump up,

I try and I try and I just bounce off.

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

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 I’ve come up against.

I tell myself one more jump…kerplunk!

My little toad head hurts like hell from all the bashing

against the wall it’s felt.

If I can just find a crack and crawl in and 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.

Sorry no prince underneath  miss

But I will be the prince of toads one day

So fuck the frog I say!

and I look for that crack in the wall,

no matter how small.

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work, The EROTIC ZONE

The Science of Speed – A poem

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The Science of Speed

3 to 120 Meters Per Second,

the speed at which nerves endings transmit signals through the body.

This body wants to be touched gently by your fingertips;

I have no doubt it would feel like you had never left.

25,000 miles per hour,

the speed it takes to escapes Earth’s gravity.

What would it take to escape my want of you?

186,282 miles per second,

the speed at which light travels.

When that light strikes my eyes how long would it take

for you to realize what’s still behind them?

Time dilation ,

the theory that as your body increases in velocity

time slows down.

I wish to have you near so we could accelerate to the infinite, then

time would slow to nothing and in that final instant

when our speed was at its apex

time would simply stop,

and forever with you would

never end.

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

I am an Ant

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I am an Ant,

and I carry this burden

as I walk the branch.

I come, I go and I carry

my piece of a bright

green leaf.

Why? I do not know,

but there are many of us;

thousands, millions, billions

with this leaf held tight

in our mandibles as we

march day and night.

They walk over me.

I walk over them.

Some build a bridge from their

bodies over a stream so the

rest of us can cross.

Some have perished in their building,

washed away down stream to find a

new course.

The rest of us just keep marching,

with our big green leaf held high,

for we are ants

and know no other life.