Tag Archives: poetry

WORDS – My Poetic Definitions for Certain Words in the English Language


Words

A while back I  made a list of  certain words that had meant something to me personally  throughout my life.  With this list of words I decided to apply my own definition to them in a  poetic sense to really convey what the word means to me in a more concrete but at times abstract way.

These new definitions  would not be what you would  normally find, say  when you are  flipping through a reference book such as Webster’s English Dictionary or some such book of extensive boring knowledge that you have to begun learning  from the very start of Kindergarten all the way to college.

Of course it doesn’t end there, one day when your the Father of energy zapping kids and your relaxing back in bed with a hefty  book in your hands  you may have to keep one of those stupid dictionaries next to you on the nightstand at  your bedside because some pompous arrogrant ass of  an author had to  pick a word no normal person (or abnormal)  would ever use in their own mind let alone in casual conversation.  At times I revel in the English language and at other times I hate it simply because I believe words shouldn’t get in the way of what you are trying to convey to the reader, especially on a contstant basis as some writers like to do.

So here is brief list of the not-so definitions of words:

1.  Apathy –  A smile in your direction which never quite reaches the eyes with a sharp snap of the head away.

2. Dreams – Dim images of lost desire, a quest for innerpeace that travels on a slow runaway train

3. Friends – Pillars with which to hold onto in a raging storm where some are stronger than others.

4. Enemies – The unseen predator which lurks along the edge of life waiting to pounce.

5. Life – An endless array of patchwork on the soles of feet worn down and dirty.

6. Time – A number measured by emotions and circumstances of the day.

7. Envy  – A spark which turns into a flame soon to engulf the entire forest.

8. Justice – A rock thrown back at an unseen hand whose only intent was grief.

9. Poems – A collection of organized to disorganized words which have no meaning unless you say they do.

10. Woman – A mystery behind  a locked door where a thief must apply all his talents to get through.

***I am a word/idea collector so do YOU have any definitions for ME.  I would love to hear them….:)***

Aspects of Her – A Poem


rainbowgirl2

Aspects of Her

A sunshine smile

dipped in a psychedelic rainbow

of colors that don’t exist

in the spectrum  that

physics would allow.

 

Slide your hands down your hips,

feel the silk threads float over

your soft cashmere skin;

you always liked  touching yourself

more than me.

 

 Eyes look away when I speak to them.

I can’t quite catch their color; evasive

as a fish in a warm running stream.

 

Sad, reflective, in denial of your

desperation as you try and fit into

a dress that’s just a little too tight.

 

You are a free spirit that confines

herself behind a waterfall of wishes

that will never see fruition.

 

This is you, all the aspects, all the incarnations,

All the pages yet to be written, all the pages

torn out and tear stained and written over again

then forgotten..

 

This is you and I have known

them all.

By Philip Wardlow 2013

Ivory Towers – A Poem


IvoryTower

Ivory Towers

A thousand ivory towers sit clumped

tight together.

They fill up the valley below and

spread over the plains of grass as

the river cuts through.

The tops reach higher than the birds

can fly,

Deep into the clouds they pierce

until they scrape the moon as it slowly

passes by each night.

Standing next to a tower

I look up from far below.

Alone.

With a hesitant hand I reach out

And touch the ivory wall.

So smooth and slick like glass as

my fingers run up its length.

Not a crack, not a crevasse

To reach a finger into.

This wall cannot be climbed.

Who dwells in such a high place?

Do they converse across the way,

or do they ignore each other as much

as they do me every day?

Such a lonely place to call home.

These towers seem to me more

like an escape from  the life below.

Where I stand.

If they only understood.

Fortune favors the fool.

by Philip Wardlow 2013

Hiddin Within – A poem


Darknesswithin

Hidden Within

He watches her. She watches him.

The dog , he watches nothing.

Their eyes can’t hide what lies beneath.

A tilt of the head, a downcast look tells

me all I need to know about their inner

Lives.

They hate. They love.  They lust. They  laugh at

Life.

Is there sadness behind that smile they

Give.

Some hide from each other.

Some hide from themselves.

Some hide simply because they can.

I wish I could see all the dreams buried

deep within their heads.

Dreams which they’ve never fed;

maybe a doctor, a lawyer, or a whore,

maybe a pretentious pious little bore.

Their thoughts are hidden;

a landscape of dark shadows and fog banks hung

Low.

I watch it all unfold.

They can’t keep it hidden long,

for like a cauldron bubbles, spews, and spits so

does their mind emit a gurgling of regret, a wisp of

weakness, or a hiss of  hysteria in its’ attempt to lament.

I watch and I wait for it all to unfold,

for the hidden to be found and the found to be told.

I’m a spectator to the grand affair which is hidden within.

So know that when I look at you or you at me,

I will see you, see you indeed.

By   Philip Wardlow 2012

The Archer – A Poem


ArcherCredit to Sheldon for Drawing**

The Archer

 

Left arm extended and locked,

arrow drawn to cheek as

fletching brushes two day old

stubble.

Right elbow bent, pointed

tight against quiver at back,

tendons taunt with muscles fixed.

Pressure of braided bowstring

bites deep into calloused ruined fingertips

as they itch to release.

Eyes forward, focused, unwavering,

towards a target who’s heart will know

the strength he holds at its final beat.

Steady….steady….Hold, Hold…

Release….

Fly Free…Fly True…to find death

Draw again

and repeat.

By Philip Wardlow 2013

The Thing Inside – A poem


hyde

The Thing Inside

It dug deep inside of me and slouched in

the corners of my mind where it directed

me where to go.

It pulled the strings and propped me up

like a caricature in a show.

My emotions were muted like hearing the

sound of a loud glorious church bell

down deep in a dank musty well.

I floated but there was no water to be seen,

no apparent wave had struck me yet I felt

slapped just the same.

I spied you amidst lights, and through the

wall of sound that I had to walk around and over

and under to get close to your side.

You looked sad and wanting to my brown eyes,

because your blue eyes found mine and

I knew it in my soul to be true.

We were connected me and you.

But this thing that slouched, and slithered and sat

this thing made my eyes see you as a trap

I had to traverse or never make it back intact.

This thing inside had a magic wand, which it tapped on my temples

ever so softly as it laughed at me in glee and showed me the shadows

which raced behind everyone’s

heart along with my own.

My memories were dim as I woke in bed, the creature who once

had crouched inside was seemingly gone.

“Foul creature!” I screamed inside, but no answer came

Thankfully.

But mayhem had been met by me that previous night and the

damages I had accrued could not be undone.

I think of that thing that was once inside

and wonder if it will always abide.

by Philip Wardlow 2012

I Recall – A poem


I Recall

I recall her smile the first time I saw her

Radiant and warm with a hint of

Laughter at the edges

I recall her eyes

Deep and blue;  eyes you didn’t lie to

Because they could see right through you.

I recall many things about her

As I sit on my front porch swing

Gazing  up at the nighttime sky .

Thinking. Just thinking.

Bringing the past to the present

As I so often do.

I recall the sway of her hips.

A woman’s hips

Hands,  my hands enveloping her  from behind in

A loving embrace.

I recall her smell ;   fresh and sweet  like vanilla ice cream

topped with raspberry syrup.

My mind likes to wander to thoughts of her

The wonder of her.

My wife, and  my life.

I recall it all.

by Philip Wardlow 2012

 

DSCN1869

Dust to Dust – A poem


DusttoDust

A scream escapes me as my body goes to the nether

Disintegrating into grains of dust to fall up into the desolate and

be carried away down a flowing river of no direction.

My mind, my soul, and my will follow into the oblivion after;

each seperate from one another to divide themselves

into a thousand times a thousand

pieces…

My will holds tight to once piece of each as I flow

for I will not let them go

their seperate ways

I will not lose me.

For I am me.

I am me

forever.

by Philip Wardlow 2012

It took only One – Olivia Engle


OliviaEngel

It took only one face on the list to make my brown eyes brim,

It took only one big glorious smile to enter into me and

have my heart fill  up and overflow onto the floor.

I didn’t want to look too deeply for it cut too deep,

yet I feel I should for her.

Here was a life never to know another day.

Here was a little girl with laughter in her eyes

and a future as bright as the sun;

I could feel that warmth radianting,

and seeping into me as I saw her

soul shining forth from the screen.

It took only one and there are

so many more.

It took only one and her name

was Olivia Engle.

 

By Philip Wardlow 2012

#unsung

 

 

 

Torture – an Ode and Poem to the Difficulties of writing…


Stockade

 

Torture

Writing is like torture as I’m slapped and
kicked to divulge the secret sins of my
past.

My hands are bound and gashed
As the rough hewn ropes cut and
Bite into my fresh raw
Flesh.

Bring out the glowing cherry red poker and
Barbed wire mesh as they apply the thumbscrews with
A sharp twist and turn along with a mocking jest.

With my head stuffed into the block, my
Feet dangle two feet from the ground
No confession is forthcoming from my mouth or mind
Not even as they pour hot oil in my ear and I hear it
Gurgle down.

My strength is waning as nighttime
Waxes by , leaving me with little hope but to
Tell all or soon die.

By Philip Wardlow