If I were to suddenly evanesce, to flee, to disappear,
to run fast and headlong into the bright nothingness of the night,
what ruin would find my absence?
Would their be sick wailing siren calls of the once was
reaching my soul's ears
through the
nothingness of me?
I hope not. Not Wailing over me.... a tear or two will do, followed
quickly with a laugh.
But I do not wish to know the old world anymore after I am gone.
Why dry up and go, if to only to still receive drops of the
once-was in a teacup, to simply drink bitterly
of.
Remember me or don't, for I will not care as
I lie afloat amongst the stars, dreaming of new
things, new worlds, new excursions to catapult
a frayed mind to healing, to repair a ripped soul
torn asunder.
Cry and smile in the same instant is
all I ask of you if you do remember, for I
liked to be missed in both respects.
So I guess I do care a little at that.
I believe in everything and nothing in this Universe and I
would miss both aspects were I to finally fall into the
abyss of what-not and possibly nothings.
I enjoy the Everything of people healing of the
cuts they give themselves and get, and its wondrously satisfying
to partake in living in that magical epiphany
of them
I do not enjoy the Nothing, in the sense that
they will continually scratch the scabs to bleeding
every so often and there is no mop big enough,
nor pail of water full enough
to ever fully clean it all up.
I am tired of slipping in their blood.
The Everything of them is wonderful
buy sometimes the Nothing of them
becomes all too much.
By Philip Wardlow Dec, 2021
Happy is never
a permanent state of
mind.
More often than not
it isn’t there.
But it is there
at times.
Oh, most assuredly it
is there.
I feel it
smiling along side
a character in a book, or
lifted by that actor or actress
in a poignantly profound scene.
A hug from across a room by a
friend with just their eyes alone.
To be seen, truly seen when
I speak my words aloud
or write them down
for a stranger I have
never known.
Often times I am melancholy,
weighted, and in disarray
But a shared laugh or smile brings
me back home to me
in all the electric intimacy
life brings,
and I glow inside,
lightened and floating in
the midst of that connection.
Accomplishments, with mountains
climbed, my nature nourished
on the struggles conquered
and obstacles surmounted
that I never thought
would come to pass.
I’ve realized the Happy Comes
when I reach for it,
inviting it in to come
stay for just a bit
until it decides
to leave
and having faith it will
always be right around
the way
waiting to say
hello again.
Climbing out of the mucky muck
getting out of the quicksand
of me
Expulsing the meandering mélange of
my bluesy Eeyore ways.
Striking a chord of resonance
to perchance
take a chance
on the what-if
of a life
less melancholy.
Stomp, stomp, stomp that fear.
Pull, push, fly against that gravity
paddle, run, roll
down that hill
Letting the fall aid my
cause.
Oh you mucky muck
you doldrums,
you insidious funk
I will take thee
by the scruff
and shake thee about
and shout in your ear
get out, get out, get out.
Slink you well away.
Ooze on down the road.
Mr. Muck
You are not wanted here.
No matter how well you look
in that three piece suit
and your comedic
bravado,
You will always fall
short as a true friend
no matter how comfortable
you seem in your skin
I see all to clearly below
that shady veneer
So goodbye
Mr. Mucky Muck,
Goodbye.
Ain't no rest for the Wicked - Philip Wardlow - The real and the sensual sides to life in all its facets.. 