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 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
Slumber comes for us all
and dreams accompany
with portents to perturb
or pleasures to unfurl
and enthrall
Desires beg to be consumed
just as fears wish to ruin
the world inside, convincing us
our contentment is a mere
illusion.
A wrinkle of doubt forms a
shackle.
Guilt a weight to drag us deep deep into the ocean
But this ain't no cruise
Cuz we're paddling always paddling
As we scramble for the cork
To plug that leak.
while the sun shines shines and
the storms creep creep.
by Philip Wardlow March 22nd, 2023
You who seeks to think she can choose her own way.
My arrows fly faster than you could ever run think to run
Hide you say?
Escape from love’s sharp arrow is but a myth, whether it be unrequited, thrust upon, stumbled into, taken, or laid in siege, so shall you feel it’s thudding sting into you deep and anchored in full.
My arrows when flung seek only but the beat of the heart, so as long you shall live so shall it find you whether on the highest sunlit peak or the dankest deepest hole in the bowels of this dark earth.
I find you a prize worthy only unto me. You shall have no other I have decreed. Long have I sought such a consort for eons, for I have dwelt in perpetual solitude allowed only to offer love to the ingratitude of others
To be cursed and denied it my entire life is cruelty alongside the cruel.
I'm a sun surfer, riding waves of fire and fusion,
I graze the gravity wells on a board of pure energy, slicing through the primordial particles of plasma
Burn baby burn!
Do you feel it?
Ain't nothing better when surfs up.
I shoot the curl of a sun flare out into space and almost
touch Mercury before I plummet
flung back down the barrel
as it spits me towards the sun's surface
to finally kick out
and to settle, just floating
taking it all in,
I smile inwardly as I drop in again
and do it all over
Ain't nothing better bro.
Tomorrow isn't promised
Nature's energy setting a plate
for you to eat off of,
so carve it my brother and sisters,
eat those waves well,
Wack, Hack, Crack, and Snap,
your way through.
Throw buckets of ions
as you slam and jam
on through.
Ride, ride, ride
do or die.
That's the only way to catch
the sun
Truly.
by Philip Wardlow February 7th, 2023
The lot of this world are mere cavemen, still fresh and immature in thought and nature from the hole they crawled out of…
Squirrelly in action, violently trying to get that nut, not knowing why the compulsion drives them, while many others sit on the beach sunning themselves as the tsunami(s) roll ashore, smiling as their children make sand castles in the grand shadows of the approaching waves.
I am an imperfect man. and she has a beautiful perfect transparent heart of which she lets me hold in my rough hands.
Her heart is warm to the touch never cold, for inside of it it's full of fire, a fervor for life I see burning bright, for her heart is made of the most pristine glass I see through it clearly to the flickering flames within that dance and dance always before my eyes.
Yet I am flawed, and my seeing leaves me sometimes blind at the warmth and wonder of her heart I hold in my hands.
I wish her heart to never break nor the one to be the cause of the breaking.
I hold it delicately lest to crush it, yet not too firmly for it to slip from my hands I hold it with a willful assurance of self as I marvel at the magical glow that pervades from within.
Her glass heart is stronger than it seems, more than she even knows. Tougher than any Titans mighty blows could wrought asunder.
Her glass heart's unwavering transparence mesmerizes my eyes, for it is true, so very true straight to it's core. and beckons for me to hold it for all the rest of my days.
Which do you prefer to be?
The Adored or the Smitten?
Why, as the Adored must come
all the rewards,
Eyes upon you, an audience
numbering from one to one million.
Hell even the right one can pour it on thicker
in one mere moment than a million.
How can you lose. How can you not see
all the pleasure that brings?
As the Adored are you ever bored?
The Smitten have always outnumbered
the Adored.
They keep coming and coming and coming.
Literally they may be coming.
But in all seriousness,
let's just hope they don't knock upon
your door as they can get quite obsessive I have heard.
Gift upon gift, upon gift, just to catch a peek
perhaps to see, if what they they sent
fits.
It does, Oh , it's divine!
Oh, by the way I also like the white
one.
But the Smitten, oh the Smitten,
they have their dreams
manifested in flesh, and a smile,
and words that are just for them.
Oh, the attention....it's everything.
To be seen, to know you affect their
life in that one small moment
To possess the power to push it
up or down.
They are allowed to live within the life of the Adored, sitting at
the edge of them, just a hair's width away
from their every movement.
Keep those compliments coming though,
never wary for the Adored do get bored
as do the Smitten.
It's a transaction, a give and take.
A take and give.
Did you think you were Special?
You the Adored, do you think you are truly treasured?
You the Smitten are you truly charmed?
Do you think you see them as they truly are?
If in this life we flow from Give and Take
what is ever truly real, what is ever truly fake
if all our dealings are ever based upon
the transaction?
by Philip Wardlow, August 31st 2022
Ain't no rest for the Wicked - Philip Wardlow - The real and the sensual sides to life in all its facets.. 