Tag Archives: poetry

Bloody Car Load of Resentments


I don't ever wish to come home and not truly see you or not want to.
I don't ever wish not to be truly seen by you or you not want to see me.
I don't ever wish for all our bloody car load of resentments to ever cause us
to drive off the road over a cliff into despair, anxiety, anger or despondence for each other.

I want contentment in one another to be our loadstone, to  pull us towards the mirth in life,  the tranquil moments, and to delight in the delving of what made us fall in love, and to always be ready to be jubilant with another without fear, judgement or reproach. 

I want you to fall into my arms and for me to fall into yours, lovely, tenderly,  for all the years down the road  together ahead, flinging resentments to the wind out the car window, and holding  fast to each others hands like new lovers on  a magical trip, seeking new discoveries around every bend.

by Philip Wardlow  August 21, 2023






Fears




If I think too much on losing her, my
body goes taunt and tight,
muscles as rigid as a high wire cable,
then  shaking like  a nervous  tightrope
walker traversing a great height. 

Why would I lose her?
Everything will work out fine.
Love conquers all.  Right?

"Love" did conquer all once and she 
left me.

I didn't seem to be mean too much to her at the end

Am I now?  Will I be in  a month, a year, a decade?

Will she give up on me?

Will I be to blame?
Does every past  failure 
play a part in a possible future one
or the success in
not  losing you.
With wisdom found.

What makes me special?

What makes her say to herself, 
I shall keep him for all my
days to come no matter what

I guess I do. 
I make her want say to herself,
I shall keep him
And so I shall always 
keep showing her
she wants to say
I shall keep you.

By Philip Wardlow August 2023

Taking the Time


That first date we road a Merry-Go-Round together because I wanted you to experience the magic of the world that I knew you sought inside yourself that had been so long denied.

I wanted to show you how cherished by me you already were and would be for all our days to come. I couldn’t tell you that just yet, but I felt all the feels for you and wanted to give you my world and share every adventure with you for the rest of our days together.

Five years on that feeling has not changed a bit.

Yet, I have let time steal many a precious moment from you and I. Many a magical moment that could have been, but never were.

Love is not enough, but being present with you, feeling you, knowing you, listening to you, connecting with you in all the ways that matter most like in the beginning is the magic you sought and need.

I let the days drain that magic away. I should have held on tighter, fought every day with my last breath for you in sustaining that enchantment.

Close to you is where I wish to be. Always

I am sorry I let time take that closeness.

It’s time to take it back.

By Philip Wardlow August 2nd , 2023

My Snowman


Snowman

I find that I can sometimes be a slow learner at things pertaining to life in all its facets, my life has been much like building a snowman  where you have to make three sections to it.

The bottom comes first and by far the most arduous to make….at first, it starts as just a small snowball in your hands, then you slowly begin to pack more and more snow on to it, as it grows in size, you begin pushing it around  the yard to fill in any cavities around its circumference, now its getting even bigger,  you roll and roll again  to get it bigger until you get it to the size you want. You pat and pack, pat and pack, over and over to just the right rounded beautiful shape.  You take great care in its preordained geometry you see in your mind’s eye ahead, and you smile at your growing  conception.

But then, perhaps some asshole bully at this time walks by and  runs straight at you and then jumps as high as he can into the air to come down crashing on your  growing creation…destroying your nice round ball entirely…

You look  down at your mangled ball of nothingness, then up at the wide proud grin of the bully and you kick him in the
balls…. HARD.

****PAUSE LIFE****

Decision time….do you repeat the process all over again or say fuck it  and go inside for some hot chocolate?

You decide to forge ahead, but this time in the back yard away from all the asshole bullies in your fucked up neighborhood of hypocrites of mom’s and dad’s who created such a monster of a bastard.  Pissed off, you finish that bottom ball, righteously bitching the whole time and then move on to the second.

Then comes the middle portion and if you make it perfectly like the first  in shape but slightly less in size for it will compliment the bottom in proportion for the illusion of a very good looking snow-body.  Now,  if you were very ambitious and had rolled a very large bottom ball, then the second ball of snow will be very heavy  to lift on top of the bottom one. But you must lift it …. because you have to put the head on after this.. Because you need a head.

Well most people in life do anyways but some do seem fine without one. They must bump into a lot of walls on a daily basis for without eyes to see you cannot see. Never see.

So if you are strong, yet careful  it goes up easily,   but sometimes its just a bit too heavy and you drop it , or perhaps you hold it just a little bit too tight and the ball crumbles apart in your mittened hands. Now you have to start all over.

FUCK! you yell in the backyard to no one.

Your mother open’s up the back door and sticks her head out, “Did you say something dear?” she asks, clutching against the cold coming through the door.

“No, I did not mother. A raven flew by, yelling it’s opinions at me,” I said.

“Oh, that’s nice dear, have fun.” She said, and popped her head back inside and closed the door.

You smile inwardly. Because your mother can be an annoyance but she checked in on you and that makes you feel warm even on this cold day

So you finish your snowman, humming all the while, with no cussing at your mistakes or your misgivings of the process you just are building your snowman and having a good day.

By Philip Wardlow July 5th 2023

This Journey


I could never see walking into this tomorrow without you.
Every single step  keeps you in mind
present as the air I breath deep into my lungs,
you are life giving, needed,
cherished, appreciated, and wanted beyond measure.
This Journey we take is long in the making
with pitfalls and obstacles aplenty.
But my heart is unfathomable in the many ways that it loves you
and boundless as the sky  in the expanse of what you mean
to me with every waking moment of my life.
Take my hand. Hold it tight.
I am never letting go.

by Philip Wardlow June 23, 2023 



Forging


I'm forging ahead into the far flung
burning like an ember running down a shadowed
trail just past the witching hour.

Stars peak at me through the trees
as I traverse, curious at my passage whispering
amongst themselves at where I might be going.

I would like to know as well, for it's always been
a mystery to me, I forge, and I forge, and I forge
always wondering where my beautiful
failures and successes
will take me.

by Philip Wardlow June 2023





Going Home


It's mid-Spring and 
I'm going home today.
The cool air bites a little this April
but the sun flits teasingly through the trees
as I walk up to her, my home, and
I feel unbelievingly warm inside.

She will be my resting place, my abode, my shelter
she will be there to greet me with a loving smile
and inviting arms and I will embrace
her wholeheartedly.

For a while, I had been wandering on the shadowed trails
of life, but the place in her called to me
like a deep forest magic compelling and
pulling, no force on earth could alter my new path
that my feet found once they knew where to look
for her.

I knocked upon her door, she opened it and grinned that silly grin
and I asked if I could stay forever more
She nodded and laughed, happy as a
soul could ever be.

And I have never stopped loving the home which 
I found in her.

by Philp Wardlow June, 12th , 2023  (but really April 20th, 2018) 


THE EYE




Step into the EYE... walk into the unknowing. What are afraid of? Delve...delve...delve deep.

Fear is a weighed response to a possible biased outcome of your own forging, fear not that future, for it could unfold into a thousand other delightful experiences.

You will never know though, unless you step into the EYE.

So step, take my, let us both see what's on the other side together.


by Philip Wardlow June 7th, 2023

Our Energies


She is nestled here amongst me,
our energies  intertwined 
exchanging soft electricity,
nuzzling.

A quiet moment created where space
and time slows,
juxtaposed
with love and longing
amid fears and frailties
that are forever timeless.

She shouldn't have to wonder, nor
should she ever worry in regards
to if we are forever.

But she does, oh she does,
soft and hard she does.

I hold her all the tighter
so she knows my energy is all hers,
pure and bright as the noon day 
sun and just as 
comforting and warm. 


By Philip Wardlow  May 10th, 2023

The Mucky Muck


Muckymcuk

The day’s
doldrums drone
on from dawn until
dusk and the mucky muck
lurks.

An insidious thing
the mucky muck,
pulling life out,
removing all
motivation for movement
as the spirit tries to escape
a maze never seemingly meant
to be solved.

With a thrum, thrum
insistence to be heard, the mucky muck lurks
skulking deep,
latched on like a
fat tick needing
to be pulled out,
cut out, or burned!

Mucky muck leave me be
For I swear, with
sword in hand
I will cut thee

And I will see you bleed, bleed, bleed

even ever as my blood

leaves me, running in rivulets

down and dripping off

the cufflinks of my sleeves

You then mucky muck will finally surely

be free of me.

by Philip Wardlow March 27th, 2023