"wolves" poems
Eternal consciousness
in the Void
(makes trial & jail seem almost
friendly)
a Kiss in the Storm
(Madman at the wheel
gun at the neck
space populous & arching
coolly)
A barn
a cabin attic
Your own face
stationary
in the mirrored window
fear of restroom’s
Tragic cold
neon
I’m freezing
animals
dead
white wings of
rabbits
grey velvet deer
The Canyon
The car a craft
in wretched
SPACE
Sudden movements
& your past
to warm you
in Spiritless
Night
The Lonely HWY
Cold hiker
Afraid of Wolves
& his own
Shadow
~~~
The Wolf,
who lives under the rock
has invited me
to drink of his cool
Water.
Not to splash or bathe
But leave the sun
& know the dead desert
night
& the cold men
who play there.
~~~
a ha
Come on, now
luring the Traveller
Mighty Voyager
Curious, into its dark womb
The graves grinning
Indians of night
The eyes of night
Westward luring
into the brothel, into the blood bath
into the Dream
The dark Dream of conquest
& Voyage
into night, Westward into Night
33.4k
i'll spend forever
picking at threads on my sweater
and listening to the wolves howl to my wild side
soon the threads will unravel
and ill be free to embrace corruption
Apr 17, 2014
Apr 17, 2014 at 7:49 PM UTC
Throw me to the wolves
See if I don't come back
Leading the pack
Don't you know me
Better than that?
Resilience
Never forget
I'm the girl who loves you
I'm strong and true
I'll come out growling
Barring my teeth for the world to see
I dare you
Just try and hurt me
You won't succeed
I'm swinging and biting
Just try and push me down
I'll stare at the ground
Mesmerized by the sound
Of me clawing your eyes out
I got some fight left in me
Resilience
You'll see....
Tread carefully
My claws are at the ready
I got my whole pack behind me
Literally
Ready to snap necks and chew flesh
The Girl Who Loved You is here to stay
Standing strong
Despite what you say
Resilience
Everyday
Leading this pack of wolves
Never astray
Dec 21, 2014
Dec 21, 2014 at 1:06 PM UTC
How
do you erase
the demanding thoughts
that float around
your mind
How
do you stop
the howling wolves
that run around
your head
How
do you dim
the frightening scenes
that replay in
your eyes
How
do you release
the haunting cries
that reside in
your heart
How
do you forget
the grueling monster
that lives in
your soul
Apr 25, 2015
Apr 25, 2015 at 8:19 AM UTC
He stands beside me,
In awe of the sight before thee.
His hand has mine.
We both look at each other.
Nothing can be told from his eyes.
The eyes of Ashure haze.
"Do not be afraid..
We are home."
The sound of rushing water,
Crashing into its ever blue.
The beauty of the growth around it.
I call it home.
This was the place,
Where the wolves shall be born.
Creation of a pack.
Has just begun.
Werewolves alive.
Waterfalls of Beauty.
A family.
For eternity.
Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 9:44 AM UTC
I always wondered
who taught you how to love
was it the fierce full moon
while it lighted you through a blackout night?
or the night owl
who sweetly sang you lullabies?
it wasn't until I had you
At the darkest hour of the night
Howling under the moon
And saw your hazel eyes
So vulnerable, yet fearless
That I knew
it was the wild wolves
who gently taught you how to love
Jul 27, 2018
Jul 27, 2018 at 1:11 PM UTC
"Getting sick of married life?
Tired of your ageing wife?
Well, you can create her face anew
With plastic skin and pink tissue!"
"Yes, in only three short days,
She'll be worthy of your praise.
Just send a cheque to this address
And trust us, friend, we'll sort the rest!"
The bill-boards scream in the night
As wolves in the canopy.
Like lasers, they seethe and cut
Through the diamonds of your wet eyes,
Convincing you all too soon that
You are not already perfect.
Nov 7, 2018
Nov 7, 2018 at 10:10 AM UTC
I am a ragdoll cat.
Docile and placid, I bend
to your touch, my silky fur invites
your inquisitive fingers.
Easy come, easy go.
My claws are only for show.
Bred for affection, I'm
the perfect pet. I'll follow you
wherever you go.
But the thing about ragdoll cats is
when danger is near, we do not know.
We see predators the same as friends
because it's in our nature
to go with the flow.
Too many times, I've been ripped to shreds,
been tossed around and thrown
to the wolves.
When I land on my feet and lick my wounds,
I go right back to being a ragdoll.
Apr 25, 2016
Apr 25, 2016 at 7:23 PM UTC
The deer are buried up to their necks
in the sandy soil
the struggle for purchase
frees them
into a pack of black wolves jaws
Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 12:54 PM UTC
What's up is the sky
and I'm up for the stars
and down for a cave expedition.
I'm game for a used copy
since time is literally killing me
while I got pizza in one hand
and an energy drink in the other
so the tree that is my life goes
chop chop chop.
The only chip on my shoulder
is a potato chip
because I got a dozen for every dime I spent,
which is a drop in the bucket of change
I'm saving for Coinstar.
My son Jack has made many trades,
from CDs to movies to videogames to trading cards
and he just so happens to be a Pokemon master, thank you very much.
Resisting a piece of cake
is no piece of cake,
even when the recipe
--complete with a photogenic picture--
is comprised of over a thousand words.
Don't cheat on your diet,
the spinach is always watching
and that Rolex will feel so tight
you'll be praying for thousands
of slaps on both wrists.
When things get hot
you can bang against a clock
to see how long you last.
Just don't crack 'em up too much,
clocks are fragile devices.
My motor's a Cobia
yours is an Evinrude
but otherwise we're in the same boat.
Whenever I fail I don't go to the drawing board,
I get out my scrap book.
I prefer its texture and it is,
truly,
the first square.
When my frustration becomes too much
I might have to beat the bush instead,
after all
it can't be a sightseer forever.
Don't throw me a bone,
I'm not dog,
merely a curious cat
still on his seventh life.
I'd rather be close
than be stuck with a cigar--
smoking's bad and I hate the smells.
If I'm left with nothing, I'll cry like a wolf.
Wolves are hunters, wolves are survivors.
Jul 14, 2014
Jul 14, 2014 at 12:16 AM UTC
Advice from Freuchen , the explorer
When Arctic blizzards blow
in Northern Greenland
and your supplies are low
and dwindling
the best advice is build an igloo
and wait out the storm.
And when you hear the wolves
howling with hunger
and prowling on your igloo roof
it’s best to go outside
and sing - only occasionally
though you will fight to be heard
above the judder of the wind.
Inside the igloo will be problematic
the walls seem to close in
as claustrophobic days proceed
it’s not an illusion
but a fact
each breath freezes moisture in the walls
and breath by breath they thicken
spaces close around your body
breathing yourself in a coffin of ice.
There’s no instrument of death
devised by man to so terrify
as being locked in space and time
each breath reminding you
of that closeness to that final loss
of breath and an icy Arctic death.
Feb 2, 2015
Feb 2, 2015 at 10:53 AM UTC
Ignore me,
don't say another word,
bind my hands and
toss me to the ******* wolves,
at least they,
will crave me.
If only my flesh,
to nourish their young.
at least then,
my existence would prove useful.
Mar 23, 2014
Mar 23, 2014 at 1:04 PM UTC
I write my identity in gluestick and markers
I am a lamb raised by wolves
swaddled pulsing cosmos girl-child
My limbs are rebuilt like a 7 year old birdhouse
with garish colours and bubbling pride
I am pouring glitter onto my future
the kaleidoscope cannot exist inside
In the end I think there would be
no nobler cause than to
have a life worthy of taping on
the refrigerator that I can
swell with ever-young joy to know I
have created with
trial and forgiveness.
Jul 10, 2012
Jul 10, 2012 at 2:26 PM UTC
I'd like to tell you a story
It begins in 1492
When dear old Christopher Columbus
Sailed the ocean blue
He landed on what he thought
To be the country of India
He stumbled upon a group of people
Who appeared to be indigenous
Because these native people
Happened to be where he thought he was
He called them all "Indians"
&& somehow that name stuck
They welcomed his group with open arms
Even offered them their feast
Unaware that deep inside
They were but wolves, dressed as sheep
Columbus && his crew
Soon ravaged the land
They took what they saw
Then they took full command
Of the people they found
On the land where they landed
They felt they should rule
So they stepped in, heavy handed
They murdered the people
Who had taken them in
Set fire to their villages
While the victims watched with their kin
Flash forward to the future
It's now 2016
It's been over 500 years
Since the overtaking by the regime
Future settlers decided
To let the survivors live on
They designated them small areas
Of what had not yet been robbed
These Native Americans,
Generally keep to themselves
They get by living off their land
But now they need your help
The Sioux of Standing Rock
Are being horribly mistreated
The state of North Dakota
Is poisoning them without reason
A pipeline has been built
That runs through this Native territory
When Bismarck residents didn't want it
It was rerouted, how discriminatory
People from all over the country
Are seeming to agree
They are making the commute
To protest peacefully
In defense of an oppressed people
Who only want to live
But the government is stepping in
Even blowing off some limbs
"Let them die, they're not like us"
the message the administration is sending
It seems that after all this time
The battle is never-ending
What exactly does it take
For people to see eye-to-eye?
In the end we're all just human
We kiss, we laugh, we cry
So if you have a heart at all
If you know that this is wrong
Please join the Sioux in their mission
By coming together, we can be strong
Dec 2, 2016
Dec 2, 2016 at 11:30 PM UTC
The people
who consider you weak
have not yet noticed
the wolf hiding
behind your eyes,
nor the flames
inside your soul.
Let them think
you are weak
and do what
wolves and fire
do best.
Surprise them
when they least expect it.
Aug 17, 2016
Aug 17, 2016 at 12:13 PM UTC
It was perfect before I had a name
I knew she was my wing-ridden angel the very moment my eyes were blessed
she laughs when she wants to cry
and her smile
it only gets deeper
she still holds the pieces of her broken halo...
once again I talk about wolves
because everyone has their problems
yes I do
and I've seen them circling fangs out
when I closed my eyes and made my peace with god
that moment
that moment lasted forever
and ever since I left it I am only trying to get back
yes i do remember when darkness was so constant I forgot about light
yes, I know how it changed me
she was the only beautiful thing I've ever known
Heaven sent me an angel
that's the only way
I wish I was holding her now
I wish I could tell her I love her
maybe I can
once again we talk about wolves
outside its raining
I love the rain
Aug 1, 2018
Aug 1, 2018 at 2:48 PM UTC
In my mind,
There lives two wolves.
Two distinct voices.
Each telling me to make different choices.
How am I supposed to know which one to pick?
Quite honestly, the stress of it all is making me sick.
Is the right answer instilled in us?
In our heart and in our brain?
Or maybe two voices is all it will take to drive someone like me insane.
Nov 19, 2014
Nov 19, 2014 at 12:55 PM UTC
.
***Ancient games
tell tales of dust. ||| A story drawn
from the lips of two poets.***
~~~~~
It's the wits that **** not Queens of ivory or ***ink. ***
Charged with coal strokes, scraping up the lies.
Pawns & Knights slip between the grasp of the sun, leaking into* lion jaws of Leo.
Shifting these granite plates, ignoring the Rooks common price of aslant.
Here we have slain kin, crescent traitors that backstab the night and battlefield.
Closed doors and trap floors, trade me a tie, swindling your tactic ruts.
Reality never got the noose around our necks, check turned into manslaughter, and kingdoms ripped asunder by the roar of Jupiter
Get up, get up, get away from these liars, they can't have your rank or your fire.
Peak a notion, this match is spared by a luft.
Toss away the pride buried 'neath your dusty skin, it don't matter no more if death has you by the lips.
Silence is a language too in our eyes of earth.
Take my hand, knott your soul into this downfall, and brace yourself for the wreckage in our bones.
The Sword of Sorrows will fall 'pon your shoulders, not to slay thee, but to dub thee a new day.
The drums of war will knit the lyrics in the sky,
singing:
"The mighty sharpen their fangs, the weak sharpen their wisdom"
~~~~~
I'm tired of your wishbones, and golden scales, give me the hard-earned truth.
Hot coals of honesty may you tread upon, shadow-bitten remorseful may you be, don't stray off the course of Ursa major.
The North star isn't the one I follow
It's the moon with all of it's phases,
Eclipsing and crescent, tipping the sky with it's beauty.
Now let this sink further than any soul has ever sunk,
no man could ever
*rule the moon.
~~~~~~
***Shoot on command,
C
h
e
c
k
m
a
t
e***
~~~~
You could drag me to hell and back and those words wouldn't mean anything.
Let this downfall become a downfell,
Because last I checked
"Wolves worship the moon"
and I have broke it's reflection in the water
*Just
by
throwing
s
t
o
n
e
s
.*
.
Jun 17, 2015
Jun 17, 2015 at 3:19 PM UTC
I stand here;
outside my balcony
amidst darkness
in the company
of loneliness
My soul impertaburbly
trapped between forlornness
and peacefulness
Yin and Yang perhaps,
Forlorn because the soul,
wounded and damaged perniciously by loneliness..
And peace;
because the herb...
well the herb heals
to some extent
My vessel the arena
On a forbidden course
Yang battles Yin
the odds are in his favor
THC to Yin is like aconite to wolves;
And so he weakens with every hit
The melee ends
like it was destined to
tranquil and pure bliss prevail
At that moment;
the wind starts to sing her song
Calling, whistling to his lover
the king of the night
she whistles a beautiful song
that sounds of a gentle breeze
zephyr like pushing aside clouds that
guard his majesty;
grandiosely his image is revealed
in the nightlife
Observe they all gather under the nightsky;
selenophiles
far away from each other
all in different worlds
but it's this energy that coheres them here
together
The wind starts to sing
the song of halcyon,
ogling at the moon
in veneration and exhilaration
selenophiles danced away into the night.
Jun 28, 2019
Jun 28, 2019 at 7:39 AM UTC
her body's glazed with sugar
but her soul's made of spice
her grin is chaotic
but it melts down the ice
she howls for the moon
when it births her with light
she's made love with herself
she's made peace with the night
so why would you put her in a dress?
why would you comb her curls out?
why would you tell her to speak softly,
when her heart commands her to shout?
she was raised among wolves.
she did not grow with the roses.
you expect her to change.
well, the wolf in her opposes.
she is reckless.
she is free.
she is her.
she is me.
Aug 22, 2018
Aug 22, 2018 at 12:15 PM UTC
The moon has never been so blue
upon my feet, the flowers bloom.
I'm standing with stone all around.
I'm surrounded by space that shouldn't be.
Your arms used to fall over me
and now I've never been so cold before.
The night you walked into the forest
I started crying with the wild wolves.
I've been running around the woods looking and howling for you
but I knew the trees would never lead me to you.
Lay me down to rest because I can no longer hear your heartbeat
that used to be louder than a soldier's gun.
I've walked miles and I have not slept.
Until the day I heard the moon started crying,
and that was the day the trees created a path just for me.
I walked with numb bones to a graveyard of lost loves.
I have forgotten how to breathe.
I have forgotten how to speak.
I never knew your lungs were tired
and your eyes were so heavy.
You prayed to the forest to take you
and now you're at peace.
Life was hard,
and the sun never shined for you.
But now I can stop crying to the woods
and I can stop bleeding with the moon
because you're somewhere up there in the blue.
Feb 23, 2014
Feb 23, 2014 at 4:27 PM UTC
His hands are scarred,
Face is a mess,
Too long walking
Through the wilderness.
The bears are hungry
Wolves they howl,
The Levy's breaking
All will
Drowns.
Washed away by savage currents
Watching fallen suns go
Down.
Mar 16, 2015
Mar 16, 2015 at 11:54 AM UTC
throw me to the wolves;
but at least wolves are loyal to their own pack.
Jan 14, 2015
Jan 14, 2015 at 9:17 PM UTC