"wolfen" poems
When I die burry me in a poem
I am six foot six so make
My poem seven foot long
Make it from rich azure tales of Arabian nights
Make it's walls strong to protect
My remains from a Poe's delight
Rest my head on a pillow of silken vowels
Line the walls with chiffon
And wolfen howls
Place inside the words of my poems
Lest I be presumptuous
Under my tongue a copper coin
Lest they forget , leave the calendar of my last living date
So I can ponder how fragile life is
Death a certain fate
Finally , bury me six syllables deep
I pray , that my poems
For them to keep
Nov 3, 2014
Nov 3, 2014 at 4:00 PM UTC
Look,
you can surely tell
that I feel the indignity of the situation
by the way I cannot meet your eye.
Yes, I look ridiculous,
but nature has called
and I must answer.
**** to a tree,
heels on the ground,
vulnerable -
it's not the image
my wolfen ancestors
would wish you to observe.
No, I'm no great fan
of the substance I produce,
but you needn't wrinkle your nose -
it was you who led me here, after all,
and I'm sure yours is no sweeter.
I'll make you a deal:
you avert your eyes
while I take care of this
and I'll avert mine
and pretend not to notice
when you pick it up carefully in a bag
and carry it around.
Oct 31, 2012
Oct 31, 2012 at 11:53 AM UTC
Let me walk upon the mountains
Swim the raging streams
Let me run once again
With the tumble weeds of dreams
Let me embrace the heavens
Such a starry feast
Let me embrace my creator
I'm overpowered and I weep
Let me stand inside the sunset
Embrace it in all it's warmth
Let me hug my sister moon
As I listen to wolfen cries that haunt
Let me ride the crest of waves
From the ocean blue
Just let me be on my way
My comet returning now overdue
If you will kindly forget about me
I will do the same for you
Jul 31, 2016
Jul 31, 2016 at 5:11 PM UTC
The snow falls, the wind calls.
The winter is here, the Wolfen One sheds her fears.
There will be no more tears.
As she emerges from her slumber, the world with enchanment and plunder.
Nov 8, 2011
Nov 8, 2011 at 12:18 AM UTC
Returning To the Pack
*Winter nights are when the grey wolf cries,
across the skeleton forest bare of leaves.
Grey and invisible within the resting trees,
ghostly shadows in the falling snow.
Silent and patient wolfen ice blue eyes wait.
The night is calling for me to rekindl with the pack.
For as a woman I am also partly wolf.
Now my hair turns grey like their coats.
My eyes are as wise as nature.
My heart yearns to run with them once more.
I lie as they lie with my belly on the earth
in reverence of its timeless wisdom.
Feeling its pulsating heartbeat older than time.
The silver shine of my wolfs eyes empower me,
overflowing my soul, with ancient knowledge.
Though human I lie down in the company of the wolf,
suckling the milk of my mother,gaining her strength
Standing in the rains of her wisdom
Her daughter, Her immortality, Her wolf.*
Oct 31, 2015
Oct 31, 2015 at 4:39 AM UTC