Tag Archives: solitude

The waves for the trees


The seas can be tumultuous at times,

unforgiving, relentless, a downright belligerent bastard.

So ride and revel in the stormy waves

Let the skies threaten and yell,

flash and complain, like the devil thrashing in hell.

Give him a smile, a wink,  and a fuck you, and tell

him, “You know what you can do!”

Then  go down, down, down

Letting the deep  in all it’s darkness

console you in it’s mystery,

comforting, cajoling, ever

unfolding in its complexities.

Find peace in the quiet deep.

Tempests may knock on yonder door

while the slow rolling lies just below

while abed you rest, upon a pillow of

seaweed amidst strange trees.

“Knock, knock,” says the sky above

“Go away!”  you say.

“There will be time enough  for you in the bright light of day!”

by Philip Wardlow 2016




Chaos also dances

Chaos also dances~


Angels may dance on the head of a pin

but no one  has ever told you that their partners

called Chaos are dressed in drab coats

disheveled and dirty with drink in hand, barely

able to stand as they try to keep up with the music.

They fling obscenities to the wind, raucous and rank.

Who invited them to this dance?

Did they come of their own volition or did they

receive in the mail  a nagging invitation,

with promise of delicious Hor D’oeuvres served on

a golden plate to soothe a palate knowing only

seeming hate.

There is only so much room on this floor.

Only so much of  this crowd that this world

can allow.

This pushing, this jostling, as elbows fly.

So, I shall take my drink and withdraw to

the balcony, stepping into the

cool night air.

And toast the moon and the stars, wishing I was

anywhere but here.


by Philip Wardlow 2016