Let us all embark on an adventure in our lives,
no matter the fog that shrouds our path,
tread with eyes seeing, stalwart in nature,
as we find the lightness in
every rich discovery that
we may be lucky enough to unearth
on our grand journey
in the magical realm
called you.
by Philip Wardlow June, 2020
Am I such a threat,
such a fear to you?
That my place in this world
must be abated and subdued?
Do you fear me less
when I articulate
myself better than you
or do you fear me
more, in certain circles,
because I am finally
on to you, and I know
just what to do,
to make it all
untangle.
You try and wrangle my words
and even my thoughts to
fit your disposition, as if
by smiling at me, it will cause
me to smile back
in submission.
First you blinded me,
then asked me why I was blind,
then stole the cane
from my hands, struck me, stripped me
then tripped me,
sending me on down the
road, to do my time.
Yet I endured, and even though blind,
I saw with a clarity
greater than the sighted man,
ever could
and came to pity him
and the thought processes
he called an enlightened mind.
Pitied him for the man he
thought he was.
Pitied him for the dark legacy
he had wrought
and the future
to come from it.
Pitied him that he would
never know a moments rest
Pitied him because anger was
all he knew.
Pitied him for the surety of
his place in this world
and at his disappointment
when his end finally came
and my tolerate
smile turned
into
a triumphant grin
by Philip Wardlow June 2020
I was told today to be decisive.
I was told today that my response
to stopping racism was the typical
answer that would never work and
has never worked.
I was told that my ideals were not enough
You don’t think I want to do a Boston Tea Party
on all their asses,
to burn and pillage, boycott and tear down
all the apathetic institutions and cold corporations that
turn a blind eye to the
many colored man,
to turn my back on authority while giving the middle
finger to it all?
Fuck yes. Every damn day.
Yet, I don’t want my world to burn
around me even though
it burns from within.
I don’t want a black old man crying
in the streets because his
business burned to the ground.
I don’t want a white old man
bleeding profusely after
being knocked to the ground.
I don’t want death, I don’t want destruction.
I don’t want hate. I don’t want fear.
I want compassion
I want cooperation
I don’t want division
I don’t want disdain
I want respect.
I want justice.
I want inclusion.
I don’t want any more Martyrs
for the cause.
There has never been indecision in me,
only the resolve
for all the world
to finally
wake the fuck up.
by Philip Wardlow June, 2020
Jump in the river and let it carry you out of the dark forest you are in…
Who cares where it flows if you are already lost….
Fearing anything is inevitable,
so face it headlong at a dead
run.
I hear most outcomes cause
you to grow beyond what you
thought of as a once heeled truth,
allowing you to leave that dark forest
far behind,
as you continue
to flow on, and on, and on.
By Philip Wardlow May, 2020
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
It’s a devious thing..this thing called the nipple…
Why does it point at me so, setting
as a bullseye to wanting,
To suck, pull, twist, lick, and kiss
What an evil, devilish fiend of a form which sets upon your already beautiful breasts that always
beckon the darkness in me.
Torturing you is easy when you point those things at my way with a ready smile,
Hands itch as I lick my lips wanting to take a nip on a nipple
with ready teeth.
I can’t control my actions
when I’m in close,
Fingers deep
Pulsing passions push me
to take those evil nipples and show
them a thing or two about playing
in pain.
I can’t help getting rock hard
when I have you well in hand
Twisting, pulling, and pinching
Blame your evil nipples for what I do to you,
for being fool enough to tempt a sadist like me
By Philip Wardlow April, 2020
Hear my read through of poem below at Link:
People become afflicted
become sickened
A Mother dies, a Daddy dies
a Brother, a Sister,
a Nephew, an Aunt,
that crazy fun Uncle,
well he’s no longer around.
Yet some know better,
some are fucking experts on everything now:
Epidemiology, Politics
and the Constitution, here
come take your diploma
young ignorant man.
They have just crawled from
the primordial ooze,
but without an ounce of knowledge or true
reflection,
they know the why, the what, and the wherefore
of it all.
Without doubt or reservation,
they string together tens of hundreds
of stories into
a conspiracy of disdain and ridiculousness.
Anxiety now rules an already twisted logic system,
mutating them all into something
new and improved,
The truest most deadly virus of a
a thing called the Fool.
by Philip Wardlow April, 2020
Not so long ago
you once never were.
Your pretty face was
not an image in my head.
You were non-existent;
invisible in my reality.
Then right in front
of me, you shone
like a day
that never knew light.
You popped in gloriously
and I could not look away.
How many turnings of the Earth,
how many cycles of the Moon
have gone by since that fateful date
of our conjunction?
You were magic found that night,
a treasure uncovered, a beacon
in a blanket of fog as
I held you tight,
dancing,
the music playing,
me dissolving into you.
Now you are ever present,
you sit in my mind
Never moving an inch
for I hold you fast in me.
For the lover you are now.
For the friend you will always be.
I like to think on the not so long ago,
when the Universe
brought your brightness
to me, and that I never want
it to leave.
by Philip Wardlow March , 2020
My life at times
feels like a slow draining of what
was once me
and I’m just circling a hole
into nowhere.
I need to find that stopper.
by Philip Wardlow Feb,2020
undone in spectacle
she writes
A Wheel of Time Community
Health, Reflection, and Poetry for the Journey of Life
Dating, Poetry, and More
Ignorance is bliss / truth is necessary / rust in the soul
Where writers gather
Realise your innate perfection
poetry, fiction, and musings
Poetry
Erotic Fantasies
Let Your Eyes Do The Talking...
A Place to share My Love for Painting, Design, and Pottery
Hiking with snark in the beautiful Pacific Northwest 2011 - 2013
Reviews, raves, and rants. It's all about the books we read
weird alien 👽
undone in spectacle
she writes
A Wheel of Time Community
Health, Reflection, and Poetry for the Journey of Life
Dating, Poetry, and More
Ignorance is bliss / truth is necessary / rust in the soul
Where writers gather
Realise your innate perfection
poetry, fiction, and musings
Poetry
Erotic Fantasies
Let Your Eyes Do The Talking...
A Place to share My Love for Painting, Design, and Pottery
Hiking with snark in the beautiful Pacific Northwest 2011 - 2013
Reviews, raves, and rants. It's all about the books we read
weird alien 👽
Ain't no rest for the Wicked - Philip Wardlow - The real and the sensual sides to life in all its facets.. 