Tag Archives: poetry

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work, The EROTIC ZONE

They Call Her

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They call her~falling-leaves-in-autumn

 

They call her autumn
because she
wraps around you
like a flurry of golden leaves
in a whirlwind

You WILL fall for her
simply because her
violent nature demands it
commands it.

A Tempest,
a wild child
which rides lightening
and flashes a grin that
fucking drives you
to your knees

Just try and stand against
the forces within her
and you will be taught
a cruel lesson about
natures full fury
once unleashed.

But autumn she is a beauty
a conundrum
a magical journey
if you be so bold to take it

Be you so bold?
To capture the surreal
and hold it close

Could you ever be so lucky?

autumn

 

 

by Philip Wardlow 2015

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

Far Away…..

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Moon

Far Away ~

 

 

In a distant land I travel…

new sounds, new smells, new vistas

to grab the eye…to capture the heart anew

Yet the sun is same, the heat, its  glow,

The moon as it hangs like a bright bauble on a peg in the dark.

all its phases and it meanderings across the sky

the same.

This land, these people, these animals

they are not.

A new mystery, a new way of thinking to be discovered.

Yet the sand feels the same as I grab a fistful of it

and let it run on the wind.

There is an ancient history in it..

you can feel it in each grain that flies

through my fingers to be scattered

to the four corners.

Perhaps a grain will be captured on a thermal updraft,

and reach  heights to carry it across the globe

to  home.

To settle gently at your feet.

In silent company with you.

 

 

by Philip Wardlow 2015

 

 

 

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

Let Go

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skydiving

Let go
Two simple words
yet as complex
a phrase as you
will ever hear
uttered

Give over
Give in
Just submit

To Life
To Me
To Change
To Everything

While opening your mind
to the darkness inside
and letting the night take you
where it will

Fear dissolves,
replaced with a surety of a soul
that has always
resided in you.

by Philip Wardlow 2015

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

A laugh, a smile and those sad eyes

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A laugh, a smile and those sad eyes ~

 

It’s full
its vibrant
its like the tinkling
of a beautiful sonorous
bell which vibrates
down to the core of my soul
as I laze atop
a high grassy knoll at
midday.

Full lips, upturned into
an infectious curl of cuteness
catching a full wide grin
upon cheeks bursting with
an energy all directed at me.
Any pretty picture pales
next to the scene she sets.

I can’t swim
not into her
for she is fathomless.
Her look pulls me down,
the weight
for she wants to be seen..
Known for what she is.

Her depths are deeper than most
dark depths…of pain,,and remorse
love and loss.
Currents pull ever onward
on and on
I flow
into her
It cannot be fought
you just have to let
go and float
and flow
into her,
and her sad eyes

 

 

by Philip Wardlow 2015

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work, The EROTIC ZONE

Bite Bite – Dare I say it would be a good rock song….:)

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Grin, grin

Cheshire cat….grin, grin.

Flashing canines…lets begin….

CHOMP!

Take a bite…I know what you like.bite

Little Monster…creeping my skin

Tongue flicks…oh you know what I like

Bite Bite!

Little one….oh it’s only just begun

to get real…

Eyes looking at me with intent

to kill

Eyes looking at me with passion

yet to be fulfilled

I’ll take you there my friend

I’ll take you there, just

give me a bite.

And we’ll move on from there

Just a nibble…a nom nom

To get me to come

to you and show you

some fun

Bite Bite

Chomp!

My Little one.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

Shark Shark!

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Shark

I know I am bait
on the deep dark blue
I paddle and wait
I splash…intentionally
I cut my calf to bleed
a bloody trail
on the currents that carry me
Never a warning given
BAM
I fly
air is my only friend for the moment
as I descend
Splash….stunned.
I know it will return…
shortly..very shortly.
For it has plunged,
deep
to rise …rise… rise
right underneath.
To finish its meal.
I can’t see, I can’t see
below into this bloody
dim sea.
But it’s there rising fast.
It’s there.
Rising to meet
me.

by Philip Wardlow 2015

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

Delicate Strength

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A Delicate Strength~Delicatestrength

 

If I called her delicate
She might well give me
a dark eyed glare
and haul off and try and hit me
Then I would laugh
and push her down
Arms restrained
She would fight
Oh yes, she would fight
Tendons taunt
against muscles she
couldn’t hope to overcome
But I feel her strength
a quiet marching strength
in her soul.
It pours off her in everything
she says and does.
But she has a delicate
nature
For her heart has been strained
Pained beyond belief at times.
Yet she hangs on
through that strength at
her core
I feel it as she struggles against me
As I smile my mischievous smile
and get her to smile along with me
in that struggle
And let her win…

 

by Philip Wardlow

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work, The EROTIC ZONE

Snuggling

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Head to chest

she lays upon him

his heart beats..loud and clear

in her ear.

Strong hands idly rub her soft skin

in an embrace

of familiar affection.

Skin to skin.,

warmth projects

from within to without

and commingles.

A comfort.

A contentment

that cannot be contrived

or bought.

It simply is in that moment

what it is,

a deep snuggle and

a small world

all her own

with him.

By Philip Wardlow

snuggling

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work, The EROTIC ZONE

Kissing

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Kissing~kiss

 

Soft but insistent…
mirroring , playful yet sensual ,
wet, probing and tasting with tongue
just ever so lightly…
heated and wanting…
pheromones and testosterone exchanged in the mingling of saliva
exciting synapses
and releasing of endorphins…
ah yes…a Kiss

 

by Philip Wardlow 2015

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work, The EROTIC ZONE

Warrior Woman – A Poem

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WarriorWoman

 

Warrior Woman ~

Ah yes, she be a beauty…

never a finer woman did grace the land.

From the tip of the toes to the top of that pretty little head.

Ah yes, she be beautiful indeed.

But you would be mistaken my good sir at trying to take advantage of one such as her

whether in  body, mind or soul,  as she would send all three of yours  straight to hell for the

devil to collect his due.

Flaming  red be the color of her hair,   burning much like her heart that beats in a warm bosom that knows no peace, nor solace in the silence between the madness that is always sure to come after.

Every turn of her blade is poetry…every dance a death sentence to her partner.

Care to be clever, to compel her to be contrite,  or woo her with wicked words

and she shall simply cut your tongue out.

Yet, she hopes, endures for that day,  when a compliment to her nature crosses her well worn path, fights through all her misgivings,  deep protected fears, and wrestles her to the ground, flings her blade from her hand and drives the darkness away.

 

by Philip Wardlow 2015