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Lo May 28
A wolf in the bushes. A deer in the clearing.
      I know you are looking at me
        because I too am the wolf.

You know I know, because you are me in my knowing.
We are so quiet in our hiding, and yet the deer raises its head.
You sprint to me now.
Here our ever-loving, this sacred tragedy.

O beloved Ever-Creature,
Will you chase me into Godliness, or into the end of It?
I will chase you more–
My precious enemy, again and again.

Divine Ouroboros.

How fragile the leg that snaps, how ****** the neck torn.
You slip and I catch you. I fight and we die together.
The antlers today, the doe eye tomorrow.
Forever this day, no matter the way.

We are the running, the forest, the hooves and fang.
The twig that catches my leg, the corner that traps us.
God is when I **** you.
It is your teeth in my flesh, the tear in the widened eye– my precious thing, and then we do it all again.

A wolf in the bush. A deer in the clearing. You make no sound, but I know where you are. I lift my head and see you. I know you. I know you. I have always known you.
toleomato May 25
In view of others,
I am of little consequence.
It is as though I am
a dandelion seed,
left to the whim of a storm,
or a bleeding lamb
encircled by a pack of
prowling wolves.

I can be torn apart easily,
flesh from bone,
soul from body,
for practically free.
The smallest cuts would easily
bleed me for all I have.
My heart is crushed by the simplest things,
just as I can be crushed
by the simplest of men!
One word, that is all I need,
for a sleepless night.
My imagination is wild,
and needlessly cruel.
In my own head,
I've imagined different ways that
I will be humiliated, hurt and killed!
At night, my insecurities run amok
and race through my head
with an incessant screeching,
carving into the inside of my skull
new ideas, new doubts about myself
which, by daybreak,
I learn are actually true!
Ha, it's ******* pathetic!

They are wolves!
And I am to be slaughtered!
Almost as if it's for show.
It happens daily.
I wonder at this point
is there any limit to my embarrassment?
Won't someone deliver me from my own shortcomings
and faults?
I wait, but all that come are
tearing away at me, once again,
for another night!
Oh, how I tire of it!
I know I am inadequate,
of little physical worth,
but must they be so brazen about it?
I wish to be alone sometimes,
but I am equally terrible company.
The sobbing,
the rambling,
I am a boring person
who has earned his ridicule!

Sometimes, in retaliation,
I try to cast away the ghosts
by writing poetry.
But even I struggle to say it is worth reading!
A disgrace to the art, if I do say so myself.
But don't get me wrong,
it is not nothing to be called a disgrace,
even terribleness must have its maestros.
Perhaps, I am one!
I have found my place then!
In the *******!
Ha. Ha. Ha.

The longevity of my existence
is seemingly at the mercy of others.
How little would it take it to
forget someone like me?
If it is wished,
I can be snuffed out,
put out
like embers
and turned into ash,
it would be so easy,
they could do it
without even knowing.
Who will remember me then?
And what will they remember?
Someone who could be stamped into the dirt
and disintegrate, like crumbs of refuse.
Perhaps it would be more merciful
to forget me than
to be remembered as that!

When my feelings are hurt, I always retreat.
And where do I retreat?
Of course, it is here,
into poetry,
where I can trade shame
for mediocrity,
where I can pretend that
I am above it all
because I write a little bit
of **** prose,
some garbage that equates to
nothing more than
You sometimes have to laugh at yourself.

But one day,
I will be better.
The wolves will still
feed upon me.
But I will be better.
Beckie Davies Apr 19
you will never respect me
you do not know how to
i threw respect out the window
along with my dignity
along with my decency
the night that i left my prince charming
to spend a night
being the ***** in the wolf's den
you will never respect me
so i cannot respect you
you were never more than a monumental mistake
you were never my friend
you were never my friend
Raven Feels Apr 2
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, don't hide it---we miss them:|

me being a runaway flying in the black hinges

  soaring in the twinkling skies

I crave you as a hungry wolf that knows no boarders of freedom

in there in the shady street

as I dive into my vulnerability you sense my need

you sense my desperation

its like you read my locked lines

among the flowers of the highs

in the publicity of tamed crimes

you have me

running on rage

screaming on blades

the cake comes and you appear none

lying down

hating the crowds

the bargaining weight of these suicidal sounds

where are you???

nowhere to be found

leave me in yells when the time ends and dwells

this is a first in a hell

do you intend to choke me to death again???

it is me who you pressed undamned on your wided chest

and carried it all away in a mild stance

when no one dares

to a slightest bare of your cans or cares

don't forget me still not lying

still breathe for your touch

and your essence on that spot

just tell me where

and my heart will voluntarily beware

to be awaiting a hold of torments in the bliss of fair

when you mindlessly gear

affording to disappear

a night changes its shades into a million gleams

you seem to draw on my warm sheers


last night i met a wolf  
in a dream where
i was in a car with
the door decidedly open

listening to a radio that
was playing
some soft jazz
on a distant station.

i look and— there He was !!
right next to me sitting
just inches away.

He said (woof) "Hello" with a
mild but manly voice, this fellow
was well over two hundred lbs.

i said "hello" back as He sniffed
at the side of my leg briefly
and then looked at me with

friendly eyes and an expression
which seemed –to me– like
a gentle smile.

He then said (woof) "I just wanted
you to pet me for a minute–
hopefully you wont mind"

so i did..

perhaps it was the scent of what i sprayed
on as i made my way out, or maybe
how the boots surrounded my
thighs a couple of inches
above my knees as the
wind blew across
my skirt like a

and then a voice on
the radio shouted,

"You should be Parked !!"

I woke...

s jones

14 Feb 2021

there is an actual station in Ohio
"WSAX" that is devoted to Jazz,

didnt know this before
the dream...
isolation is a redly glowing wolf
it is too close to me, get away
how can i believe in myself?
the night swallows self-confidence

i am waiting for an angel sent by
the tall and wise heralds of my fate
they are riding the train of future
i don't know how to hop on, no clue

eden's sounds are distracting me
but in her eyes i can see where my train
is supposed to stop and to arrive
ancient existences are floodding her pupil

they stem from a place called nirvana
it is the deep core of a human being's soul
light suffuses their shape, goldly shining
they fight against the demons of our world

and as the years passing by, they become
our nostalgic memories and our sentiment
i want to be there for eden, protecting her
the red wolf will not come between us
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