Tag Archives: woman

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work, The EROTIC ZONE

Nothing Spectacular – A poem

Leave a comment

 

 

Nothing Spectacular~spectacular

 

She told me she was nothing spectacular
Not special
Hmm..
How could that be.
How Indeed.
For I see nothing but a little beautiful light
Shining
Soooooooooooo brightly
Yet, she takes her little hand
and dims down
down
down
down
Click…til its off.
I don’t mind clicking it back on.
CLICK
but it gets rather tiresome
I fucking need to steal that knob after
I have turned it back on
For she captivates
and draws everyone like a moth
to that little blue electric light
Bzz
Bzz
Ah you killed another one.
but they couldn’t handle your heat
SO
Move on…:)

 

 

by Philip Wardlow 2015

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work, The EROTIC ZONE

She is ~ An Erotic Poem

3 Comments

She is ~

by JessiBeans on DeviantArt
by JessiBeans on DeviantArt

She is dangerous as a newly

sharpened knife
and delicate as a dying
flower.
I can’t read her mind
but I know her intention
is to please
while secretly demanding to be pleased.
Her sweetness is bottled up
in a jar labeled as poison
Drinking her down
would be problematic if
the antidote was not close at
hand.
Taming her
Cajoling her
Corraling her
You can try,
but you might die just a little inside
if you failed in your quest.
She doesn’t want a pussy,
she already has one of those
so strap on that dick
and pump up your
testosterone,
give her a gentle kiss
but no slack or quarter in bed
She wants you sir.
Deep deep inside
her deviate little head.

by Philip Wardlow

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work, The EROTIC ZONE

She – a Poem

2 Comments

She ~

She’s beautiful… not oh, look at her pretty face I want to fuck her beautiful.

Of course I would in any angle and position I could put her in.

But beautiful like an explosion of all the senses that she touches in you.

From your heart to your hand which finds all her release points.

Her eyes that find yours across the room , wanting nothing else but to please…

She’s beautiful in the way that leads you to want to wrap around her like a blanket .

She’s an addiction, an affliction a contradiction at the apex of her attraction

She’s trouble.. oh so much trouble

but the good kind you want to unwind

and let spin and spin and spin

She is simply a connection, a puzzle piece,

that missing part that you didn’t know

was apparently needed

to make your soul complete.

Downcast
watercolor by Steve Hanks

By Philip Wardlow 2014

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

Mad Men, Angry Women – A poem

Leave a comment

Mad Men, Angry Women –

 

She smiled when she first met you.Smiling young couple in love

You smiled back just as easily.

Why did that smile slowly fade

into  a rictus of a grimace?

Why did the feelings encapsulated

in those smiles dissolve and morph into

something menacing and mad.

At what point did they take that turn

downward?

Did you let the history between you two

add up in the negative?

Math is a fickle thing when you let

yourself cheat.

How many blind eyes do you have?

How many lives have you left?

What are you allowed?

Think on it, and remember to smile

while your doing it.

 

by Philip Wardlow 2014

 

 

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

See Her – A Poem

Leave a comment

Brightshadow

 

See Her –

She sits in silent reflection

staring out a window she can’t see through,

wondering at the days of

misfortune the world has heaped upon her.

“I am pretty aren’t I”, she asks

Her hips have just the right amount of flare,

Her breasts are well rounded,

her eyes are deep and mysterious as the night

is long.

She can turn a phrase and engage in interesting conversation

just as well as the  next.

So why, why, why…

Does “that guy”  not see her.

Find interest,

or get her.

Perhaps she dwells too much in the shadows

they cast and not in her own

light.

by Philip Wardlow 2014

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

The Strength of Her – A poem

6 Comments

Strength

The Strength of Her – A poem

She is solid.

A brick wall could not withstand the onslaught she takes

upon herself in a day.

Crumblings of broken mortar would be the only memory of it.

Limits in place may  try and take hold

of a body pushed to the extreme,

but her mind says. “Nuh, uh. I ain’t having none of that”

Tired, but tireless.

Her core is molten lava

never cooling,

always moving,

burning through

shit as it travels.

Stay the fuck out of her way.

Back up.

Let her work.

Just smile, and admire, and admit

silently to yourself

how you wish you were her.

By Philip Wardlow

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work, The EROTIC ZONE

What a woman wants – A poem by Don Juan aka Me :)

Leave a comment

What a Woman Wants

She walks on by in her tight skirt,
as my brown eyes drink her in and
I say to myself, so it begans.

She smiles and I smile back,
I say hello in a way so she knows that
she matters in this moment to me.

I’m in engaged in her form, her voice.
Her smell of cinnamon must surely
taste like her lips if I were to kiss them.

I make you laugh as I tell you you’re the
sweetest girl I‘ve ever met and that I might just have
to take you home and put you on my toast in the morning
instead of my blackberry jam.

Would I be too forward if I took you by the hand

and looked into your eyes and told you to trust
me with  your whole heart as I wiped
away a tear from the tale you told
me of your last man.

You see, I see you.
I get you, I see your quirks,
I see your moods, I see your passions
and I’m right there baby

Right next to you and I’m
not going anywhere

Now come over here
and let me show you
what love is my
Dear.

by Philip Wardlow 2012

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work, The EROTIC ZONE

Aspects of Her – A Poem

Leave a comment

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