“Give me time enough to love you the right way and I will love you forever” by Philip Wardlow
Tag Archives: poem
Raven’s Journey – Poem
Raven’s Journey
We cut the night air with wings of black,
we cut the life strings at twilight’s blessing.
My brethren and I see far and wide,
for we are many.
There is no escape,
no hole can hide you,
nor disguise
mask a spirit
so foul.
We bring you home to purgatory to sit and
roost in a black shed of despair,
to dwell upon a life where dark leanings
led you to dissolution of a soul that
sought heights they were never meant to fly.
So contemplate, ponder,
wander this dim world between
darkness and light,
and perhaps we shall
return to collect you and
carry you on.
By Philip Wardlow
Where I stand….Taking stock of where I’m at in my writing for the year so far
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…:)
If I could Climb Inside – A Poem
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
My Climb – A poem
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
Killer Pumpkins – A poem for Halloween
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.
The Night Entreats – A poem for Halloween and the coming FALL next week!
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
My Beautiful Dead Girl – A Poem
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
The Dark Tree – A Poem
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
The me you see… – A Poem
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.
Ain't no rest for the Wicked - Philip Wardlow - The real and the sensual sides to life in all its facets.. 