"werewolf" poems
a crocus opens and
closes with the stream of
midnight moon.
the playmate of exhaustion
crosses the room
in his heavy, black boots
to close the curtains.
goodbye, light.
goodbye, pride of lions
and boy transformed
into a werewolf.
a scratch
of larceny,
the cuddle of
maple leaves rotting,
the magnet spinning
in rocket-ship orbit.
all secrets held in
feathers,
in hair compounded
into strings of
black opal,
and limbs stenciling
comets around
five feet of woman.
nothing in the talk
can suffocate—a quick
and easy birth of
ecstasy and the emotional
sidestep into the dark
of slumber,
seemingly feminine but
dreams strong as
barbed wire.
when to sleep?
a question finger-written
on my chest.
Aug 6, 2017
Aug 6, 2017 at 11:18 AM UTC
O beautiful
was the werewolf
in his evil forest.
We took him
to the carnival
and he started
crying
when he saw
the Ferris wheel.
Electric
green and red tears
flowed down
his furry cheeks.
He looked
like a boat
out on the dark
water.
10k
I heard a howling
in the woods,
freezing me
right where I stood.
That sound:
it turned my blood to ice
I knew he'd hunt me
this full moon night.
Great, big footsteps
pounding near;
Their deadly echo
resonating with fear.
His heavy breathing
reeked of blood and thirst.
I knew right then,
I was in for the worst.
I clutched my throat
in desperate need
of oxygen
so I could breathe.
Unluckily
I began to faint.
Knowing, once black,
I'd never wake.
And just as my eyes
began to close
I saw his wet,
sniffing nose.
I felt
his snarling teeth
biting deep
inside of me.
Then I knew
that I was done.
I had lost
and he had won.
Jan 19, 2015
Jan 19, 2015 at 7:08 PM UTC
there are bones between my teeth
moonlight glimmering in my eyes
dried blood in my nails, in my hair
my head pounding (thump. thump. thump.)
you know they say blood is thicker than water but that just means blood is more likely to stick in my throat
coughing up family ties one by one
glistening red memories, leaving only a metallic aftertaste
sick nightmare fantasy of ripping open bodies
im the monster in your fairytale stories
lets do a bit of editing, perhaps?
lets shred the whole **** book, perhaps?
lets set fire to the town, perhaps?
im tired of pretending to be your precious child, perfect student, "the innocent one"
i want to paint obscene material in your blood (in the name of art, of course)
@god do you ever feel unreal? are you even real? am i?
no i have to be real, I can feel the blood dripping down my arm, the bones cracking in my spine
im real. im real. im real.
everything hurts!!!!! fuCK i cant wait to rip you all to shreds !!!!!!
T H I S I S N O T A D R E A M
walking on eggshells is far more difficult with digitigrade legs, im not gonna try to be nice anymore
i dont need to be nice anymore
why be nice when you can **** why just **** when you can slaughter?
nobody can stop me from lighting up the post office,
nobody can stop me from gouging out your eyes
im no god but im closer than you
im no angel but you might be soon
close your blinds, lock your doors
big bad wolf is back again
bigger, badder, better wolf
greater, darker, madder wolf
teeth like knives and claws like daggers
six golden eyes staring into your soul
oh right, thats me!
i m i n y o u r h o m e
Apr 20, 2015
Apr 20, 2015 at 12:10 AM UTC
There once was a man named Beowulf
Who was fiercer than a demon or werewolf
Except that he had a flaw
A dragon made him mortally sore
This prologue is prophetic
To the ending of this epic
So I’ll tell you more
Beowulf made his mind up at twenty-three
He would race his friend to swim across the sea
But fighting many sea monsters is quite trial
Beowulf only caught up in the final mile
Poor Beowulf, fierce as a werewolf
His equal would be hard to find
Though Breca nearly beat him
He managed to defeat him
But he would make up his mind
Beowulf made his mind up in his head
He would battle Grendel until one was dead
But even though his strength could cause a lot of harm
Beowulf only severed Grendel’s left arm
Poor Beowulf, fierce as a werewolf
His equal would be hard to find
Though Grendel he had saddened
Beowulf wasn’t gladdened
And he would make up his mind
Beowulf made his mind up then and there
He’d **** Grendel’s mother in her watery lair
Although the angry tarn-hag had put up a fight
Both monsters were beheaded that very night
Poor Beowulf, fierce as a werewolf
His equal would be hard to find
He took a child and mother
Like Cain had killed his brother
But he had made up his mind
Beowulf made his mind up when he was old
To slay a raging dragon of whom he’d been told
But Beowulf couldn’t deal with the dragon’s fire
And he was later burned atop a funeral pyre
Poor Beowulf, fierce as a werewolf
His equal would be hard to find
He once was a great hero
And now his worth is zero
But he would make up his mind
Feb 4, 2016
Feb 4, 2016 at 1:34 PM UTC
The tavern roof was smokey
with a pall of blueish ash.
The juke box was a- booming
as it played "The Monster Mash".
A giant puffed a burning witch
whilst smoke rings he exhaled....
While victims of our neighbor,
Vlad...on stakes were all impaled.
The Faceless Man was grinning...
from ear to missing ear.
The hanged man turned his twisted neck
to sip a mug of beer.
The Headless Horseman shouted
for an aspirin or three.
He popped them down his gullet
where his head was meant to be.
The zombies waited tables
and the werewolf tended bar.
Mothra was the carhop
and took orders car to car.
Godzilla worked the griddle
and served burgers ala carte.
Dracula complained about the steak
caught in his heart.
Ghosts and ghouls were dancing
with abandon on the stage
While cyborgs did "the robot"
'cause they thought it was the rage.
The mummy came unraveled
as we took him for a "spin"
As Frankenstein played tuba
to contribute to the din.
Igor brought "the monster"
and then Freddie brought his claw.
Jason brought his butcher knife
and his buddy from "The Saw".
The guillotine was working
and the raven refereed
So nevermore would pardons
be
allowed to intercede.
The pendulum was swinging
to the beating of my heart.
I hoped that I would wake up soon...
then did so...with a START!
Halloween is coming. So, I guess
I should prepare.
Watch out for bars with men from Mars...
'cause BEASTIES party there!
Oct 23, 2017
Oct 23, 2017 at 6:45 AM UTC
The back door. Green eyes and smelly fur! The werewolf comes for our kid. Its time! White Knight teddy armed with a wooden sword and Judy the red Raccoon and her magical red powers! Its time to vanquish this nightmare before it even starts! The werewolf tears down the back door and howls in the darkness. All we can see is the bright green eyes shining in the blackness. And there awaits White Knight Teddy and Judy the Red Raccoon! W.K.T lands a flurry of blows with his awesome unbreakable wooden sword as the werewolf cries in pain! Judy the Red then emits waves of magical red beams that knock the werewolf out the back door as it screams in fear and scampers back into the woods!
And so W.K.T And Judy the red Raccoon triumph over the would be nightmare that was trying to haunt their kid. NOT TONIGHT!!!
Aug 28, 2015
Aug 28, 2015 at 2:35 PM UTC
Werewolf stood in front of a puddle.
Four inches deep. Maybe.
Werewolf looked away.
Stickers. Graffiti.
Flem’s Revenge Live Tonight!
The Nifty Nymphos April 24th.
Ballz Deep featuring **** Matikz and Tremaine The Truest.
I’m a long way from Cologne, he thought.
Werewolf knelt towards the puddle.
The wet filth smelled of hot blood.
Exceptionally hot blood, rather.
He spat in the puddle and turned.
One thousand drunk humans.
Ten thousand more, asleep, above.
Not misunderstood.
Cursed.
It’s a very different sadness.
Alexander’s Feast ended.
Rounding out his latest playlist -
Bashfully Baroque.
Werewolf checked the time.
Less than an hour.
He buzzed a buzzer.
I’m here for the Devil’s Cherries.
The What?
The, ahem, Devil’s Cherries.
He’s cool. Let him in.
And just like that, he was let out.
A line was forming for Flem’s Revenge.
While a bright moon reflected in Werewolf’s puddle.
Werewolf shouldered through.
Cursed.
Clutching his score.
Apr 10, 2012
Apr 10, 2012 at 1:19 PM UTC
The moon rises high in the sky
To the light of day we say goodbye
As the sun goes away
The wolf comes out to play
The man goes away
And the wolf comes out to play
A ***** of flesh it desires
A primal instinct it requires
It runs with the wind
On a hunt for those who have sinned
To eat their hearts full of mud
It's mouth dripping with dark red blood
Sharp teeth and ragged fur
Protection you cannot procure
To the light of day we say goodbye
As the moon rises high in the sky
The form of man goes away
So the wolf can come out to play
Jul 14, 2020
Jul 14, 2020 at 9:02 PM UTC
and at last
i could
discover
your
foot prints....
...................
desperate,
i followed
them
all through
the lonely
beach.
the
moment
i thought
i was
about
to reach
you,
the foot prints
turned
to that
of a wolf
and
entered
the dark cave,
where
i smelled
the blood
of silence.
the
darkness
had a story
to tell,
i saw
the
unmistakable
gleam
of fangs,
and claws
of a werewolf.
Oct 30, 2011
Oct 30, 2011 at 12:42 PM UTC
Snarling, fangs shining, moonlight illuminating ferocious beasts,
limbs tangling, separating, lunging, caught within deadly battle.
Scarlet streams trickle from trees gouged like the bellies of their prey,
canine fiends bare their teeth, their growls like black thunder,
facing these soulless demons smeared with the blood of many.
Bodies drop with screams still rattling inside their rib cages,
demons devouring with rage that can never be quenched,
their hearts ripped from their chests, veins slit,
arteries torn mercilessly out of still warm flesh.
Creatures created from pure insanity that breed nothing but anger,
fear and despair, children's corpses torn apart, their skulls shattered.
Snapping of jaws still slimed with internal juices,
bits of raw flesh clinging to hair that shimmers under the blood red moon.
Hissing from the shadows, knotted into frenzied war,
animated corpses beside twisted bodies of wolves,
wounds gushing ruby tears, still pulsing organs shredded.
Flames rush from overturned fires,
shrieking forms, torches wavering through darkness.
Pale beings gather for the finale,
blood spatters across ground, staining everything within it's reach.
Only two are left, facing each other in the coming dawn.
Heaps of creatures litter this burned, bloodied ground, none alive.
Oct 22, 2015
Oct 22, 2015 at 5:05 AM UTC
I hate zombies
they are the infantile enemy
the foe against which there is
no guilt
the essential
human
questions of right of wrong
of morality
never apply to the cerebellum-craving
undead. It's us or them
hunt or be hunted
**** or be killed
they are enemies that fail to
challenge
our notions of what it is
to be us
give me a werewolf any day
or rather - any moon
the tortured lycanthrope
forces the protagonist to
choose to **** because
unlike zombies
there's always
a chance
however small
that a werewolf
can find
redemption
Jun 6, 2015
Jun 6, 2015 at 10:01 PM UTC
The lament of
a widowed
Werewolf
in the
fury of the
space
between.”
|| shoo.shu ||
Jan 30, 2016
Jan 30, 2016 at 4:09 AM UTC
i think i'm in love
with a man drunk on the moon
i think he's a wolf
Mar 25, 2019
Mar 25, 2019 at 8:21 PM UTC
Every crack in my back is a bone you've broken with your neglect, a result of me arching my spine in insane positions, as if I'm a werewolf turning beast and you're the full moon making me
Jun 16, 2014
Jun 16, 2014 at 11:46 AM UTC
Oh werewolf with woollen wings,
Whimpering in the willows.
Thou vile voice a vice grip
Stuffed inside her pillows.
Yours is a violent cry for help
One should never have to hear.
So dare come near, just know it clear.
Your fleer; my leer. For tears, jeers and
Featherweight fears will never break weirs that
Forever fill wells deeper than the darkest hole
You gouged in the lightest soul.
Your sword; her shield. My words; wounds healed.
I’m ever bending moonlight to set it right.
Go haunt yourself through a never ending night!
A single silver bullet shimmers in her sunlight.
The same one you shot upright.
Falling fast into the broken bed you made.
Now let it embed deep in your head. Well played.
Jul 13, 2021
Jul 13, 2021 at 10:22 PM UTC
when the moon is full the wolves they gather round
with there werewolf howl a loud and shrieking sound
looking for there pray looking for a bite
looking for a soul that wanders in the night
to fill it full of demons evil and so strange
when the moon is full into a wolf will change
a curse to last forever that you cant take back
you become a devil a member of the pack
Apr 5, 2014
Apr 5, 2014 at 9:39 AM UTC
He is werewolf
He's moody and easily provoked
He's highly loyal and protective of those he love
while he can be intense at times
He is generally a laid back person
but if a fight comes his way
He will fight to the death, if necessary
He seem normal to most people
no one understand how different he can be.
It's like a light switch flips for him sometimes
and then he's a completely different creature
Mar 3, 2014
Mar 3, 2014 at 1:09 PM UTC
#
Inside
of
my
head
Entombed
is
a
B R A I N
Can’t
shake
this
feeling
That
it’s
not
the
same
Infected sickness
Covered with dull pain
A rabid werewolf
I’m trying to tame
Almost off the leash
I tug at the reigns
Hold on with sheer will
Have nothing to gain
My efforts; A joke
Fighting a freight train
Through grit teeth I smile
Demeanor I feign
Failure coming soon
My life, one more stain
Lost
sight
of
it
all
To
what
it
pertains
I
am
sinking
down
Spinning in
the drain
An
endless
battle
Forever
the
bane
Of
my
existence
No longer I’m sane………
#
Jun 27, 2018
Jun 27, 2018 at 12:30 AM UTC
Oh! The poet in me,
a werewolf is he!
He likes to come out
when the looming moon,
shines it's brightest beams,
down.
Awoooooo!
Down,
to disturb my daytime dreams.
Coaxing howls,
and whines,
injected with subjective lines;
predatory metaphor,
tapping at my chamber door!
Only hollow howls, to those
who don't hear the instinct growl
to this canine condition;
those who don't spend their days,
thinking, or wishing.
Predator of poetry,
prowling over prose.
A beast of the blue moon syndrome,
after the curtains close.
Nov 24, 2014
Nov 24, 2014 at 7:43 PM UTC
the night was already crazy-wild by the time
we arrived at Jarred's pool.
he had a big house but we never went in
4 teens, teen dream, a dream team;
but I knew deep down just what it was
we snuck out for.
a "transform-optional" rite, this hollow night.
but I still had doubts...
as Jarred offered me an aluminum can of something and I nervously said, "no thank you",
the moon had proudly jut out
he had a big house but we never went in.
I hadn't noticed, without the moonlight, just how
sharp Jarred's teeth and fingernails were.
canines, ivory & sporadic. looking at me
I hadn't noticed how reptilian our 2 friends were
The fangs and dislocating jaws, tendrils & scales.
Man-o-war for a head, giant earthworm for an arm
She looked scarier than he.
Those 2 went at each other in a murderous way
A blood sport of sorts. Confusing to me.
She spread her jaws wide - a parachute with teeth
And bit down hard between his legs.
Blood everywhere. Blood spattered on her face
She looked ****** god-awful by then.
The meat of his dead body then re-animated
And assimilated with hers. Anabiosis + Differentiate
Jarred, a werewolf or something like it, approached me.
He had a big house but we never went in.
we chatted poolside for a while
he'd go harmoniously from monster to human, human to monster.
Boiling cancerous growths under his fur
Grew angry eyes that glared at me.
clawhand on the back of my neck,
he went in for a kiss (or a bite)
with a puckered face and bared teeth.
This is it.
I finally felt a grossness so profound that I,
without thinking, jumped in the pool
to splish-splash, cool, to escape, whatever
I opened my eyes and just floated there for a bit.
hanging in the stillness
trying to forget those alien freaks
staring up at the moon
from the bottom of a pool.
Aug 21, 2012
Aug 21, 2012 at 10:33 PM UTC
*I'm the werewolf of the night.
The one you fear looking at
straight in the eye. I'm the
werewolf that howls at the
silver moon. Left alone in
the dark feeling sad and
blue. Not having a ****
clue of what to do.
I'm the
werewolf that carries it's
secrets under its skin and
fur. While others talk about
what bothers them while I
sit as my blood boils from
within.
Not knowing of how
to tell the people the mess
that i've been dragged in
since that night the black
wolf sank it's fangs deep
down into my skin.
Causing the pain to spread
from vein to vein. Causing
me these fevers and aches
as my body transforms and
shakes in the dead of night.
Causing me to go mad and
insane.
I'm the werewolf that saw
it's life and freedom taken
away in the light of the day
as I was about to be another
wolf's prey.
I was once an innocent
little girl that loved walking
alone in the woods. I was
once a little girl that thought
evil and magic don't exist
in the world.
But this is me
today a werewolf running
around looking for fresh
prey. Looking for a soul to
take before the night
fades away* ~
Jul 16, 2015
Jul 16, 2015 at 5:48 PM UTC
One night
I was a werewolf,
but that got out of hand.
One night
you were a peach,
but I preferred fresh
over canned.
The blood scent was strong
and on your collar,
or was it spaghetti sauce?
We meandered in
the lost city of angels,
but those women
in the maternity ward
were better shape-shifters.
Couldn't see if the moon
was full against
the polluted skyline,
(but I bet it wasn't).
Then somewhere
down the tracks,
the howler (that's you),
half a dream away
on some deserted block,
and flat on your back
like a pancake,
with the nightmares
stacking up,
and dripping
with strawberry syrup.
Or was it blood?
(I bet it wasn't).
Mar 20, 2021
Mar 20, 2021 at 8:28 PM UTC
Running and howling in pain
His fate was suppressed with stains
Of sins he enslaved. His onus relegated
truth of everything he's denied.
Now pleading for his life
He wants to be human again
"O beautiful moon that bestowed
this curse on me, I've deigned to your
eminence. I'll do anything,
So please set me free!!!"
*Blood stains his clothes when the
transformation goes. Fever rises and
he’s left alone at dawn drenched in blood
and his transformation pain. While his
body aches as he left with shivers and shakes.
Bitten in the woods he’s been ****** by
the werewolf’s curse. He feels it
course through his veins in the middle of
the day. No prayer can make this curse go
away. Craving blood like never before he
ties himself up in shackles on his porcelain
bed room floor. Howling to the moon in the
dead of night. He breaks his chains from the
walls and looks at his claws as they cut through
the remaining clothes on his wolf body. Breaking
out free from his bedroom window making his
way down from the tree and off to the woods
where he can run wild and free. Hunting down
his prey and watching the blood drop from the
silver grey fur he finds another wolf like him near
the river stream. He runs over to ask him what
has happened to me. He howls to the moon while
saying you’ve got the gift to be forever free and
you'll never be the same again. You'll remain half
wolf and half human like me*.
Flabbergasted and petrified, this was not
what he had in mind. He wants to be human.
He wants to be free. The tears of innocence still
crying and screaming within "O brother of Lycans.
This curse that our gleaming mother has bestowed
upon us. This is a gift even the Lamias are in envy.
Feel the wrath and power O brother. Together, we
shall upraise the Lycan race!!"
*His eyes grew bigger his claws grew longer.
He had to leave his old life behind. Family
and friends , college and work. All his dreams
suddenly came crashing down in just one day.
They soon turned to ashes of black and grey.
Time to cope with the life of the wild.
Time to leave beauty and become the beast.*
***No more tears of innocence he said. Just blood spilling
and hunting for the ****
Feb 1, 2015
Feb 1, 2015 at 11:45 AM UTC