One breath forming calm
Eyes tight on adversary
Bound energy flies
Dragonfly wings cut
Up, down, left, right superbly
Entrancing your death
Childish eyes unveiled
as a keen blade drawn for blood
Fire heart goes cold.
by Philip Wardlow 2016
The Five Tenets of the Sword~
Strength~
Once light as a dead bird’s body in my hands,
this weapon now weighs more than the collective souls
of a million men,
sweat glistens on muscled forearms strained
drained,
needles in legs drive deep,
yet I stand.
Conditioned for this in every cord, tendon, and bone
that runs through.
Skill~
Hours upon hours, Days upon days,
Years to master myself, then years to follow
to master this weapon.
The placement of the foot just so, hands balanced
sword poised at the perfect angle.
Advance, retreat, first position, second position
third, and on and on and on,
an endless dance until the music stops
with a myriad of outcomes at its end,
and I know every step in the
countless tangle of each encounter.
Instinct~
I am steadfast in my defense and attack
yet, I let the mind drift into that nether
region between thought and the what-if.
Never thinking I know my opponent
for he will do what I least expect and I
must expect the least expected in the blink
of an eye, for it could be my eye that is lost.
Ignore your sixth sense at the cost that
only fools pay when they are finally put to
rest in a shallow lonely grave.
Courage~
My line of sight travels down my sword
to an opponent that only wishes me a quick death
I see all my years to come, laid out bare for
him to snatch from me, like a breath from
a baby as he sleeps deep.
I am no newborn! Swaddled and waiting.
But born to this moment in time.
So come. Come!
And I will share you a secret
as I whisper your own death in your
ears.
Will~
The hardest of the tenets to maintain,
for they drive all the rest in me.
Fail this one and I fail them all.
Be steadfast you ask of your soul,
Be steadfast you implore of your heart.
Be steadfast you command of your mind.
Find a focus to compel the body forward.
Find a focus to awake each day.
Find a focus to believe in you
when no one else ever will.
Find that will
Simply find it
For there can be no other way.
by Philip Wardlow 2016
At my Side –
I carry this sword at my side.
It shines bright in the morning light
it reflects.
I have made it so,
for ne’er will you see it pitted or dull
while it lays in my hands.
Ne’er will you not see the blade as
keen of edge as when it was first cast
that fateful day from the folded metal within.
I count it a true companion for you will
ever see it at my side.
More faithful than the rest ever have been
from days forever gone and treacherous roads long
ago tread.
Ours is a pact forged of conflict,
Where we have both stood together
and tasted the promise of another
day as the blood dripped from both of
us to soil the ground beneath.
I will wake and it will be there.
I will live while it still shines,
for we have each other
My sword and I.
By Philip Wardlow 2012
This poem is about more than a sword. It’s about what’s in us all. The will to to fight when hope may be lost but we fight and struggle and continue to climb out of it no matter what the odds. May you always keep your sword close by your side my friends…
undone in spectacle
she writes
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undone in spectacle
she writes
A Wheel of Time Community
Mind • Body • Life
Dating, Poetry, and More
Ignorance is bliss / truth is necessary / rust in the soul
Where writers gather
Realise your innate perfection
poetry, fiction, and musings
Poetry
Erotic Fantasies
Let Your Eyes Do The Talking...
A Place to share My Love for Painting, Design, and Pottery
Hiking with snark in the beautiful Pacific Northwest 2011 - 2013
Reviews, raves, and rants. It's all about the books we read
weird alien 👽