"wolfs" poems
The dark (k)night,
Cold and dreary,
The silver spot of light,
Soothing but scary,
Draping the shadows beneath the (k)night'sky
Running away from a reproachful eye,
Wolfs cry and leaves rustle
Sprinting feet quickly hustle,
(K)night's dark but the dawn breaks,
(K)Night sleeps deeper and deeper, it's insatiable,
Mother doesn't but son wakes,
The dystopian slumber doesn't quiver,
He's only one left awake in this rubble
He's only one left alone to flow away in his dreamy river.
Apr 24, 2015
Apr 24, 2015 at 6:46 AM UTC
Moon shining brightly
high in the midnight sky
A howl from a lone wolf
breaks the quiet night
The strength of the wolf is the pack
without the pack the wolf will cry
the strength of the pack is the wolf
without the wolf the pack die
The forest cries out
hearing the lone wolfs howl
He is without his pack
the forest wants to comfort some how
The strength of the wolf is the pack
without the pack the wolf will cry
the strength of the pack is the wolf
without the wolf the pack die
Sep 5, 2013
Sep 5, 2013 at 11:47 AM UTC
122109
I fear I have the madness that breaks the wolfs lungs, to cry with utter sadness to the lone Moons glow
This change it seems is sudden but makes the body feel transformed,
Into a monster.
The Wolf Man is real!
And then my lips turn dangerous
Fang Kisses only
I’ll bite your neck
And hide from God’s eye all for my craving blood thirst
Death may never separate my flesh eating
Face from you
I’ll eat your brains for breakfast!
And Bury myself with you
Oct 29, 2012
Oct 29, 2012 at 12:12 AM UTC
I believe that fairy tales are just that: fairy tales.
Magic doesn't exist, and of course imagination is just that: imagination.
Something not real, an internalised, idealised creation.
Happy ever afters,
and Prince Charming hero's,
are just a lovers fantasy notions.
But we are there,
You know,
at that stage where Romeo is madly in love with...Rosaline.
Those evil family relations surround us and a wicked stepmother who overrules.
Girls everywhere are obsessed with being the fairest of them all,
Eagerly anticipating a dark and handsome: Mr. Tall.
Waiting on that fairy godmother to appear,
but its already too late because the wolfs already had his dinner,
and a sleeping beauty has yet to be kissed out of her nightmare.
May 4, 2013
May 4, 2013 at 6:36 AM UTC
As i was viewing the channel,
my eyes suddenly turned blank
i found myself in a deserted place
all i felt the place was haunted
As i looked around,
i found a crow sitting on a tree
i wondered where i was
As i was walking by,
to found out my way
i sensed something following me
i was so afraid even to turn back&
i kept on moving
Suddenly i felt my back was touch by someone,
but this time i took a dare to turn back
and to my wonder i saw a wolf
it roared at me,
Again another sound,
forced me to look around
and all i saw the two handsome vampires
"The salvatore brothers"
My eyes became still
My breath was hold
My body turned cold
i became pause
and i wonder are the wolf
"Klaus or tyler"
All i could see,
the vampires & wolfs fights
vampires protecting me from their fights
My dream to meet vampires,
My imagination
My hope
all was coming out to be real
Only my wish to became vampire was to be fulfilled,
i asked them to turned me up into a vampire,
i imagined myself being a vampire
my hot look
my vampire teeth
my craving for blood
my fights with the wolf
all i could see my dreams in reality
But suddenly i was hit from bck "ouch"
and to my wonder it was my dad
everything vanished,no one was out there
it was just a dream ??
my wish only remained a wish
"Wish i could be vampire"
Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 2:47 PM UTC
And the sun will rise with you in morns
Tulips would dance through your way
The birds would sing their best tunes
The blue ocean, your aisle today!
Highlands would bend and kiss your feet
Vineyards would grow when you lay
I can see how the nights fall for you
they silently conspire that you to stay
My pretty darling ,trust me when I say ,
Everything would be pretty on a wrong way
Trust the woods ,all dark and lone
Let’s be rebels for once today.
Between the fear of wolfs and ghosts
Across the rainbows of tears and smiles,
If you don’t see any footsteps ahead,
I’m sure there your treasure awaits.
Now tell me pretty darling,
Aren’t you in love with the stretched ray of dusk?
Dec 30, 2014
Dec 30, 2014 at 1:33 PM UTC
My mother grew up in the sand
among wolfs and sheeps
The herd was her family
She was a nomad
And the first to flee in her generation
She ran with her family
when the bullets hit our home
My mother carried all of her children
in her arms
Through landscapes she
Saw lions and elephants running
She saw the fear in their eyes
Our paradise had been sold to the devil
and everything with a soul was leaving
When the sky turned dark
she climbed over spike fences
and crossed the border
There wore her brothers awaiting
and their eyes glowed in the
dark
Greeting her to safety
My mother built a house with her hands.
Only to witness it being torn down
My mother is a warrior,
she survived the worst
and gave me the best
a future.
May 8, 2016
May 8, 2016 at 9:28 PM UTC
Thick dirt matted fur, A warning snarl from between razor sharp teeth, Head lowered to the forest floor, littered with brown leaves, and fallen branches, eyes glowing with a beckoning challenge, hair raised, ears perked, senses alert,
This wolf will not back down, a threat obvious,
As the hunter points the gun at the snarling snapping wolf, hiding behind his man made power, but tonight this hunter will fall, and will not rise again, from behind, the wolfs mate emerges from the foliage, teeth exposed and a determined sway in her pursuit, with a hurried lunge, the hunter swirls, a bang in the nights air,
A gurgled scream, a agony filled howl,
The wolfs mate lay twitching, holding onto her last few breaths, muzzle to muzzle, they lay together,
An alpha and his dying female,
Sep 3, 2012
Sep 3, 2012 at 11:22 PM UTC
I can’t get to sleep at night for fear of what I see,
There is definitely something strange happening to me.
I see Demons in my bedroom dancing round my bed-
Devils on my inner lids poisoning my head.
Beelzebub is running riot driving me insane,
Demons just won’t let me rest-they’re causing grief and pain.
I’ve tried taking tablets; I’ve tried counting sheep
But nothing ever seems to work I still can’t get to sleep.
‘Cause there’s Demons in my bedroom, screaming and a prancing.
Every time I close my eyes I see the Devil dancing.
Weir wolfs howling all night through, Old Nick running riot.
Perhaps it is the food I eat, I’ll have to change my diet.
Sometimes I sneak to bed real late and try to be unheard
But in the cupboards they must wait, I know it sounds absurd.
As soon as I turn off the light and snuggle down to sleep
I get the most enormous fright when out they start to creep.
They just won’t keep from out my head-
Moonlight wakes the living dead.
Demons dance and weir wolf’s scream;
I know that it’s not just a dream,
‘Cause I can’t get to sleep at all
Sometimes it drives me up the wall.
I toss and turn and scream and shout,
The neighbours ask what it’s about.
But I’m afraid to ever say
They’ll think I’m mental straight away,
What normal person sees this sight?
When off to bed they go at night?
I don’t know, I can’t explain,
I know it’s driving me insane.
I’ll ask the vicar round for tea,
Then ask him if he’ll stay with me
To exorcise these hellish visions;
He’s sure to make the right decisions.
He shouldn’t ask or be judgemental
Even if he thinks I’m mental.
Surely there must be some hope,
If there’s not I just can’t cope.
I ask, could you sleep safe and sound
To know your bed has Demons round?
Answers truthfully, please don’t lie.
No You Couldn’t! Nor can I.
Dec 9, 2009
Dec 9, 2009 at 9:53 AM UTC
Once upon a time in the days of old
There lived a very ugly troll
But her heart was made of gold
Her body was round and lumpy
Her brow furrowed and grumpy
She always stood all slumpy
She was abandoned as soon as she was born
For her mother had looked upon her with scorn
For with beauty she was not adorned
She was wrapped in a towel and placed under a bridge
Right up there on that little ridge
She was nothing then but a little smidge
The forest creatures insteed of eating her up
Raised her as a cub
They even shared with her their grub
The wolf taught of graces
The vultures, patience
The skunk, fragrances
The mouse taught of need
The crow, greed
The fox, speed
She lived in an ugly house of mud
Just like her the outside was a dud
But wow the inside of that hut could warm your blood
Late one night came a knock on her door
It was a knight in shining armor complete with sword
Battle weary, and badly gourd
She took him in and sewed up he's wounds
He looked longingly in her eyes, she thought loved had bloomed
But in reality she unknowingly sealed her doom
For he had seen her heart of gold
Please excuse me, this is where the tale turns cold
For this knight was not so nice, he had a heart of mold
Late that same darkened night
He unsheathed his sharpest knife
And plunged in the troll's chest just right
With a wailing mournful cry
Right there in her hut she would die
In that fleeting moment that sparkle left her eye
That knight cut out that gloden heart
It was so huge he had to put it on a cart
He didn't feel bad, what an ugly troll was he's only thought
The animals came to see what was that screaming sound
The wolfs smelled around
Nose to the ground
Off to hunt that evil knight down
The vultures did what they do, and ate her remains
The crows joined in and did the same
The mice and the fox just ran around all insane
The moral to this story is an ugly body can hold a heart of gold
But this world is very, very cold
So be very careful with your heart and to who it is you show
May 18, 2016
May 18, 2016 at 4:11 PM UTC
I know I am not really lying on the beach
Eyes facing up towards the sky
Where I really am is in Vienna
In a small classroom filled with fourth graders
Sitting in a circle in a room
That was decorated in glow in the dark stars
And a fake camp fire next to a cardboard cutout of a wolf
I remember learning about the Oregon Trail
And how cowboys would campout underneath stars
Guns close by so other dangerous creators wouldn’t be
And looking at the fake stars in that room
I was in another world, a realer world
Where the cosmos didn’t make stars
Bullets did
Silver bullets meant to hit werewolves
Who were so compelled to howl at the moon
They forwent the odds of being gunned down
And so easily they could be when the moon
Lit perfectly their silhouette
Naked in plain view
All the stars were silver bullets
One that never met their target and flew
Past the wolfs and up into the black sky
Where they pierced the world’s barrio
The bullet holes became not stars
But un-mendable scars
From men who wanting to mutilate
The sky’s beauty with weapons
There to remind me
When the lights turned on in that classroom
The glowing little stars melted into the white popcorn ceiling
And as we, the fourth graders, disconnected our circle on the floor
The reality of the origin of stars I had just come to know
Never left me and the stars I see at night now
Are not as real as the ones I saw that day.
Nov 5, 2013
Nov 5, 2013 at 4:07 PM UTC
Spring, spring, spring. ...
Wake up and running to get yourself in paradise,
Looking for something a little bit wise,
Waiting for mothers with children in their arms,
Flowers colours are great signs.
The days are bigger with more and significant light,
Nature reserves all the beauties in silver green,
Birds sing along day and night,
Wolfs , bears and cuckoos appear on the scene.
Everything is going well with God's grace,
Silence in every thought, you love nature!
Dreams seem to be able to offer fantastic time,
Let's see sunshine, let's drink a glass of wine.
Just look around and tell me what Spring can you see?
Think about the stars shinning for you and me.
Spring is born again in the same place with freedom and
Care,
Go around in the fields and spring is everywhere. ..
Victor Marques
Mar 16, 2015
Mar 16, 2015 at 7:18 AM UTC
Margo was a fragile girl,
so ****** it was cool,
we stayed in locked bathrooms, talking till nine,
her father was a liar, sipping cheap wine,
her mother a white pelican, death took her young,
she talked how she wants to orbit around me, like earth do to the sun,
wrote words on my palm,
"I think you can fix me with you sugarplum chewing gum.."
She had no clue I was just a young wolf, passing my time,
I liked broken things that lights up at dawn,
girls that hide in shadows,
waiting for their monsters to come,
blinking neon signs,
smoking cigarettes with their trembling hands,
like they are passing a gun after robbing your mom.
Once she had a dream, about us, no longer being seventeen,
she felt dumb, expressing it to me,
gazing to the distance, her dream became reality,
sound of sirens, resonating in the distance,
wind was playing with carillon on their front lawn,
I didn'tt felt guilty, wolfs don't do, after they eat all lamb.
Margo was a fragile girl,
her pale skin, blue eyes mirrored her moms,
she used to made me peanut butter sandwiches without the crust,
but she didn't know that my favorite color was rust,
I liked when things fall into dust,
enjoyed smoke after ripping young hearts apart,
I filled her world while my insides were numb,
I left after damage was done.
Apr 3, 2015
Apr 3, 2015 at 5:53 PM UTC
If poems were but manifestations
Of the same tune,
Never changing,
Words would be bland shadows.
We must escape our bonds
And try shades that are different,
So not to be a sheep in a pack of wolfs..
Jan 25, 2015
Jan 25, 2015 at 4:47 PM UTC
From sleeping in streets to walking miles alone I have come to a direction the page just cannot follow my friends .
I have chased the bottom of a glass since I was fifteen and that was to far to be anything more than a blurred memory.
And to the times that seemed to matter.
Now only to those who haven't lived my existence a lone wolf knows no true direction just simply howls to let the others know he does still exist.
Are words betray us and then eventually it all fades .
I'm not the act I'm the delusion that fueled a ego now left to wither a dead tree in a forest of many .
None will recall but far to many will simply use ******** when facts get in there way of a good story .
Tonight I sat under a full moon and howled as the wolves often do.
There was only silence that followed the eco .
Even the lost know there is no hope for the madness .
When your words betray you and only a dead tree remains.
Maybe another time the stars will find me in good favor .
And like those around tonight will listen and only stay silent to the lone wolfs howl.
Sep 29, 2015
Sep 29, 2015 at 4:44 AM UTC
Your screams always cut the deepest.
Like a hand scolded under the hottest of water.
Cold to the touch as it tricks the nerve into believing--
A sheep in the wolfs clothing as it drifts into searing.
The watery message relays the misery.
The detail all there lain before my eyes.
My skin battered and marred--
Torn asunder with merely your voice.
Thick with rage, smoldering with pride.
Words intended to be used as a weapon, will always wound the feeble.
Sep 28, 2012
Sep 28, 2012 at 12:51 PM UTC
The beginning of the end.
A sandstorm made a huge 400 floor library sink beneath the sand.
At times a tall tower can be seen sticking out of the sand.
There are wolfs bringing information from across the land.
The library overseen by a spirit of an owl.
Many have tried to find the library but they threw in the towel.
The library has a huge ancient observatory.
A huge telescope looking at the stars tells a story.
There are parts of the library that has been untouched for a century.
There is an extremely huge card catalogue.
It even owns books from ancient babylon.
The library has various gateways.
The bookshelves looks like endless hallways.
There are parts that are inaccessible.
The libraries knowledge is unsurpassable.
A huge staircase that is broken.
The timepiece on the wall is broken.
A Lot of travellers got lost.
The library is filled with snow, sand, moss and the one room is filled with a forest.
The library is full but it still has a lot of storage.
Jan 30, 2017
Jan 30, 2017 at 1:38 PM UTC
Through a wet night,
And beside an ancient moon,
Came the wolfs howling croon,
Sacred trees breath,
And fire exhausts the soft air,
True Leopards lair.
Lying with eyes of beauty,
And the quiet stillness of perfection,
Silent and soothing,
The velvet wind,
As she licks and teases,
Flicks and breezes under my skin,
And again I'm within her secret layer,
Easing, breathing,
United duelation,
The birth of a nation swims silently in the dark,
Probing sublimation,
Soft and smooth,
To the end of the groove,
And still no more to move,
For sweat speaks exhausted talk,
And pleasure retires to reincarnate,
We've breached the gate,
Coupled warmth smothers,
The light fades,
Woven bodies beneath the moon,
Sleep now for we will awake soon.
....................................................
Oct 8, 2009
Oct 8, 2009 at 8:59 AM UTC
As an instinct flies
in a place of beauty
an untamed nature
footprints in ground.
Where frosty stares in the still air
will frighten the devil.
We hear the haunting howls
within the wilderness as we
search for all that is
wild inside us.
In each stride a dark beast
inside us roars
sharp claws scratch prison
walls and paws rattle
the jail house bars.
I am the mad man in the
lunatic asylum who howls
at the full moon.
Barks at the visitor
I am the crazy one.
I am the werewolf
Look into me and I will scare
every bone in your body.
As a band of brother we all give
birth to a fresh madness .
Bound together we feel the freedom
of just being in our nature.
And I am so so sorry that you
always feel like a prisoner.
As he is wild and on the outside
you hold yourself captive.
As he is the wilderness
you are the farmer.
And all of his territory surrounds you.
Be careful in the land of the untamed
beast listen for his frosty breath
a cold bloodied steam.
Frozen in the wolfs glare you feel the
force of nature.
A thousand armies may try to penetrate
and conquer.
But stone walled by an eye
they are kept on the outside.
As they hear a voice
from a bearded old man
Some call nature
others call GOD
Saying,
"GET OFF"
"I SAID"
"GET OFF"
"HE IS MINE"
With thunder in his spirit and chain saws
in his growl you know he belongs to God
not man.
They place you in a prison
calling it
Freedom of choice
I will crack you open
break you free
and give you instinct
with no choice.
Burdened by the baggage
of decision i will set you
a path which has
rhyme
but no reason.
Strangled by the mind I will
I will give a ferocious growl
that carries you right through.
Gliding through the wilderness you
race free following your instinct
breaking fresh snow each day.
Gain the thrill of your own wildness
and learn the power of running with wolves
in the wilderness.
.
Jul 3, 2016
Jul 3, 2016 at 8:56 AM UTC
The stars so beautiful, filled with beauty and light,
Sparkling and shining so bright,
Up in the vast starry beautiful night,
Oh, what a beautiful wondrous sight…
The wolfs howl at the moon,
The stars are so beautiful, the night far from noon,
The beautiful night is starry while the air being windless and cool,
To anyone who never seen stars, this beauty will make the person drool…
A comet zooms above in the night sky,
Speeding so fast, up so high,
A bunny hops by, such a little cutie,
An owl hoots by me, maybe like me too, enjoying the beauty…
The grass sways from the breeze,
As I stare at the sky I freeze,
The stars are so beautiful, like little sparkling white gems,
It's the Almighty One's creation, and the stars are one of His beautiful emblems…
The night sky, full of galaxies and inspiration,
I stare in awe, at the Almighty One's creation.
The oaks below the stars, lit by the soft gentle light of the moon,
As I stare in wonder, I know I will fall asleep soon…
I watch how a few light purple clouds by the moon pass,
I smile, laying by my camp tent on the cool Spring grass,
My eyelids start closing slowly over my eyes,
Closing my view from the beautiful night skies…
I fall asleep gently and slowly, my dreams showing me paranomas of the sky,
The wolfs howl at the moon, a bunny munches on the grass, while the owl hoots and soars so high,
Seen clearly by the beauty above,
While I miss the view by sleeping like a happy warm dove…
-Mishka Wayz
Nov 24, 2019
Nov 24, 2019 at 11:39 AM UTC
We sat on the bulked viewing the sounds no words need be shared for sometimes in silence we say far more.
The sunset was upon us and the ***** was kicking in to that perfect sense of a warm buzz and the waters draw poetic in the truest sence .
There were shared stories with added lies simply a understanding of a crossroads part.
The road had ran it's course now the chapter was done and so my own would continue.
Were the fuck you headed now man.
My friend asked in a mild laugh curious yet knowing no matter the direction we
had different stories to write.
I have know clue think I'll just chase the sunset till the highways lends me her thoughts once again.
My friend simply shook his head .
Sometime I really can't begin to fathom what goes on in that head of yours bud.
Hell sometimes I wonder myself I had to think.
It's always on these rides when the air is one with the nights empty promise
I truly grasp the thoughts and understand my roads always best traveled alone.
The drug's the ***** simply a mask for others to understand my less than
understandable actions there always has to be something in which to place the blame now doesn't there?
I try not to question and as the road's endless roll drew me yet again I cared less
for the logic and simply gave in to the need to know what lay over the next hill.
I'd far rather die with my boots on than waste away in regret.
Live while you can for times a commodity none can afford to waste my friends.
And as I hit the on ramp bound for nowhere and eager to see it all.
I had to think to the moments shared for they were far more meaningful to friends than I.
Sometimes a lone wolfs howl isn't for emptiness of the fear of isolation.
It's the understanding of one's self that truly drives the one's who chase the highways line.
I viewed the sunset a chapters close for the moment and a endless thirst of highways vice
I so desired eternal.
She's a cruel mistress to some but on this nights ride her embrace is all I ever did need
for now.
Stay Crazy
Gonzo
Aug 5, 2013
Aug 5, 2013 at 2:12 PM UTC
Really Rick (r, top hat, woody, james)...?
I just love how you blocked me
but you keep coming to comment on my poems...
The thing about it is you think
I can't see the comment that you write,
but you thought wrong.
**Hint hint: I can login out & see the comments
and I get emailed anytime someone comments on my poems**
..............
**R said, '' Woof, don't send your teenage minions to fight
your battles if they can't handle a blunt response to
their contact with me. It is kind of weird that a 65 year old
delusional man has a 16 year old girl doing his ***** work''**
.....
First off wolf aint my daddy,
but if you would like to meet my daddy
then I would be more than happy to introduce y'all. ;D
I'm not doing wolfs ***** work.
I suggested something to you regarding wolf...
You came back and attacked me.
I guess you thought I was playing
when I said ''come at me again & we gonna have some problems''
Ranger Rick you live where... in North Carolina right? ......
Jan 6, 2016
Jan 6, 2016 at 9:54 PM UTC
So lacking appeal,
This daydream,
Jealousy abounds,
Founded and founded and founded,
Tiny wolfs appear,
Howling away at full moons,
Glossy pics and neverending stories,
Turning eventuality to pain.
Jun 11, 2013
Jun 11, 2013 at 3:26 AM UTC