In The End~
“Show me a little more sin,” he said.
You knew the ways of men 
so you smiled,
giving him a wicked grin,
as you lifted your skirt,
and listed all the
things in your head you
would take from him
in the end.
by Philp Wardlow 2016
Tag Archives: women
Desolate Dame
Desolate Dame~
You give him a grin
and forget it all when he
grabs a breast.
He smiles that same stellar smile
that trapped you so long
ago.
You sweat it all out through sexual labors
and forget…
all the moments meandering
constant in the frontal lobe of your brain that aches
to cut him loose and send him downstream
to go cascading off a cliff.
Yet you play the martyr to his Mussolini,
tied up and tortured in the town square,
while all the passerby’s look the other way.
Weakness.
Doesn’t become you.
Defiance should rule.
But yet you grin all over again
when he grabs your breast.
Philip Wardlow
Fill up my time fish
Fill up my time fish~
She said, “Fill up my time
while I wait for something
that I can finally keep
to drop on by.”
He said, “You’ll do,
you beautiful thing you,
now hurry , spread your legs as
my want of you is almost up.”
You are my novelty for the day,
the week, the month, the year,
as my desires
run their phases like the moon
runs its course across the skies
a hundred thousand million times.
You didn’t know it, but you did.
You hoped, but you still did.
Our original sin, over and over again.
That seems to be half the fun.
Are we all hobbies? Habits?
Frivolous fantasies and disastrous
desires run amok?
Dear affections that grab us like
a child holding tight to a goldfish
in a brand new bowl.
We all know what happens to that fish.
by Philip Wardlow 2016
Monkey Girl
A thousand times a thousand,
I could tell her she’s beautiful
but her hands are pressed
against her ears,
as she hums
a silly tune.
I could smile her way
with sweet attention
eyes falling all across her
body in every which direction.
She’s blind to me,
as her hands are held tight
against eyes already veiled.
Tell me you feel something
Anything…a single thought
a broken dream…a wish unfulfilled
a desire drowned.
But you just grimace me a smile
and casually place your hands
over those luscious lips
that have never truly been kissed.
Oh, my little Monkey Girl
by Philip Wardlow 2015
Cute as a Button –
Cute as a Button ~
She is cute as a button but that button is sewed onto the dark lapels of the devil
She’s a handful, a handful of hurt with a side of outrageousness
spilling over onto the floor and making a hell of a mess
for me to clean up.
Cheeky smiling girl,
Oh, what a monkey you are…
Come down from that fucking tree, you are much
too high and the wind is howling
and the bough is ready to break.
Miss dangerous. A big red light blinking.
But would I take her any other way?
That corner, that question mark, that hill
I want to turn it each time, see the answer revealed
and the top to be reached.
She’s cute as a wicked little button
could ever be.
by Philip Wardlow
She is ~ An Erotic Poem
She is ~
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
Thoughts that have meandered through my Mind
How many women really own their sexual side…demand to be seen…demand satisfaction..I fear not enough…
Intimacy can come in many forms and it could be with a woman, a man, or nature..and it has but one definition…an intangible soft closeness.
Bright eyes, bright smile, an open heart and a passionate wanting with a wicked way..that’s what I like in you….may it never change.
Certain friends have always been imaginary, only daydreams…flits of movement at the edges of your sight. that’s all they have ever been
We are all shrouded in the skins of our choosing since our inception.
Lost eyes following a lost heart down a trail of stolen bread crumbs
There are riots in me at times…and they burn and break and pillage through the city that is me
by Philip Wardlow 2015
Mad Men, Angry Women – A poem
Mad Men, Angry Women –
She smiled when she first met you.
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
She by Bob Marley
It’s Complicated – a Poem
It’s Complicated –
Sink or swim.
Hundred pound of feathers,
or a hundred pounds of lead?
Doggy paddle or breast stroke?
Doesn’t fucking matter, she says
My daddies got a motor boat.
I just smile and flick my ashes
in her drink,
and keep on walking.
You see it’s complicated,
this you and me thing.
My chemistry is mangled compared to
yours and there is no untangling
such a goddam chore
of a life you take
for granted.
You don’t see.
For me, it’s complicated,
like chess, or Risk
It’s far from fucking checkers
dear.
A game, is a game, is a game
and it could be fun,
This you and me.
It’s complicated.
For every game big or small
has got its rules but sadly
you never learned to read.
By Philip Wardlow 2014
Ain't no rest for the Wicked - Philip Wardlow - The real and the sensual sides to life in all its facets.. 