Tag Archives: poetry

The Solace of Us


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Pause,
be still
for there is solace in us,
we fools of love lost
now found.
Silent the raging of
the day,
for fortune
fills our cup
Sip
Sip
Sip it up
and
savor the flavor.
For you and I
are everything
that some might
deny in themselves
and wonder
at the end
of the day
why they ever did.

by Philip Wardlow 2018

Desires of Red realized


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The ravaging of her
by me
is akin to a famished
man licking his plate clean,
then looking for more,
mouth open, and tongue tingling in anticipation
of feeding again on all the morsels
still not offered and hidden in
the closed secret cupboards of her that
are thrown open violently.
with a ravenous want
she heartedly
agrees in the taking of.

The thrill of her is
a fall of twelve thousand feet,
Plummeting, wind whipped by
a gravity of immense propositions
pulling me towards a
desirious body
that seeks my weight
to come crashing
into it,
only to  fall through and continue on
out the otherside
into her all over
again.
Forever falling.
Forever giving of everything
until our worlds
explode into
a thousand
times
a
thousand
colors
To slowly coalesce
into a calm
carressing
shade of vibrant
red
And a warm embrace.

By Philip Wardlow 2018

My Vows


As I take you in hand
I give you my heart
As I give you my heart
So do I give you my soul
to interweave with your own

I have long sought you
and in now finding you
knowing you,
feeling you,
loving you,
I am home.
Home like I have never
been in all my life.

I vow to always sustain you,
and lift you up in all the days, hours
and seconds left to us in this
life and hopefully beyond
this earthly boundary in
a heaven of our own making.

I vow to be faithful to our
friendship, and to always
be loyal in seeking understanding
of any your pains should they come
and to always share my own with you
in return, trusting in you
to understand as well.

I want to walk a shared path with you Maria,
through any trials, through any challenges,
through any storms,
hand in hand, held tightly
never letting go.

I vow want to sit with you watching
every sunrise and sunset offered to us
with smiles and much laughter.
Bright eyes, hugs, and most
of all with love.

by Philip Wardlow 2018

Don’t know


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Don’t know if I’ll
ever be able to show the world
what I see
Really see
Not a facsimile
Of ifs and buts
But of What’s
and Wherefores
And art thous
And
Not “I suppose If you think so”
Mentalities,
But maybe,
It
has to be that way
as its always been,
To be found guilty
By ignorance, history, and apathy
Your worth only
found after your long
gone in a
cold
cold
grave
when the writings
all done.

 

by Philip Wardlow 2018

The Rush comes not in Lazy Days


The rush comes not in the lazy days
where modicum rules the self,
and the mediocre distractions
gestates the soul,
feeding it the sweet
sugar it needs
to bloating,
instead it comes
in the quiet asides
in bed,
head to pillow
eyes up in darkness
flashing lightning like
self betrayals upon the
ceiling,
played out as a silent movie
in fits and starts
with no ending or
denouement.
It comes in the hectic
angry busy
same shit different day
hours of
needle piercing the skin
confrontations to
a life squandered
to the delusion
that the next corner
coming will
turn you to
find a
glorious parade
in your name
A name you never earned.
Nor fought for
but expected nonetheless.
So rush,
rush,
rush,
those
days when found to your liking,
for they are few and in between,
a mess of tangled
leavings that you
should have left far
behind
but sought to
carry,
making you
all the lazier
for it.


by Philip Wardlow 2018

Coming with


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I’m coming with,
if
we’re close in death
and your spirit wants
to go before
I’ll be hugging you tight
as the heroin goes in us
both
Then my dear friend
with my hand in yours
we’ll let that
euphoric concoction
swim through
to envelop to a quiet warmth
until we walk off that
cliff
And we go flying
High
High
High
Away
Letting go
in search of the
far
far
far
away.

By Philip Wardlow 2018

 

My Porcelain Princess


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She’s my porcelain princess,
precious and breakable
smooth like soft white cashmere
I love her most
wrapped naked up
under a blanket
Let me get it in under
and keep you warm
Let me get
In you
and ignite
that body
Setting it off
to melting
Drip, drip, dripping
Pale, snow thighs
opening
As I settle into my
home away from
home
Where, there is no place like you.
My caramelness
mingling,
In your pinkness,
My amber hands exploring
Pearly curves
waiting to be found
as I delve deep
into your embrace softly
electric
Your kiss kinetic,
falling with potential
Into you as you beg
for more and more
of me.
And oh,
I give it to
My little porcelain girl

The Best Feels


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It’s the best when
your need of me
matches my own
for you.
When our passions
demands the best
of us
to open up,
seeking our truths
that we can only reveal
in those delicate
secret hours
between dusk
and dawn.
Coming out either
In the deep penetration
of the physical
or the soft
pulling of intimate
words exchanged
with a kiss.
No love comes
closer.
Cuz I always
strive for those
feels
And you are
the best
at the
giving
I have ever known.

 

By Philip Wardlow 2018

 

The Wheel of Emotions


My  world is a colorful multitude
Spinning
An intense electric ecstasy  mixed with shallow peaks of disassembled anger
covered with the taint of unfocused sadness
I swim through admiration of a love language
overflowing .
Yet fearful of drowning in inadequacies
of not being good enough
That it will all fall apart
every single stitch to come
undone
leaving the garment
in loose piles upon
a cold uncaring floor.

Yet, trust leads to anticipation
Possible acceptance
I choose you
over and over again
I choose you
with vigilance
I choose,
Steadfast,that love
can win
while the
rest continue
to spin.

by Philip Wardlow 2018

The Twistings of Feeling


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I don’t want to
fight the tight
winding tornado
that spins and ravages
within,
Let it rage I say
It’s been corralled
too long
way too long.
But what of
of its desolation?
Tornadoes
are not creatures
of creation
but of beautiful obliteration.
What good
could ever come
of its release?
Perhaps,
Just perhaps,
Once the whirlwind
Dies upon
Release
A silent peace
will follow
and the
world will
right
And settle,
Slowly
Bit
by
Falling
Bit
Into
Place
Again
On a clear
swept
Field.

By Philip Wardlow