The devil doesn't know how to sing, only how to howl.
quote by Francis Thompson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Howl of the Night
A howl can be herd in the night as the snow falls
A howl can run through and enter the soul of
The wolf who's heart is as pure as the grain
A howl shall show no mercy and shall either hunt you
Or guide you, It will be strong and hard -the howl of the night.
The howl shall come from the spirit of the strongest,
The bravest and the boldest.
It will not be weak, as the wind carries the howl farther
To the Pack, all will awaken and cry with
The howl of the night.
poem by Rebecca Seetahal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Snow wolves
I can hear the wolves
Howl in the distance
The howl is suddenly
Dampened by the falling snow
In a clearing
I see the wolves howl
Perched on the slanted rock
They cry to the moon
The moon cries back
It cries with agony
It cries because of death
Death witnessed beneath it's glow
The wolves turn and howl
The snow doesn't let up
But blows harder
Through blind panic
i run
I hear the wolves howl
Only it isn't in the distance
poem by Eric Ripley
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Though All Around The Devil Prowls
Though all around the devil prowls
And tempts good men to fear.
Though he loudly shrieks and howls
He cannot harm us here.
His legions dark are terrible,
His armies are drawing near.
But we in Christ are strong and stable,
We have no need for fear.
So let the devil shriek and howl,
The battle has been won.
Though all around the devil prowls,
We have the light of God's dear Son.
poem by Aidan Clevinger
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A New Footnote To Howl
Howl for the dollar suckers, the shake amarni makers
Howl for the rolex souls with their calls to Frankfurt
Howl for the poets who quote in Italian who don`t know how to laugh
Howl for the ice children waiting for buses
Howl for the mobiles with cheap words full of soap
Howl for sons who drive to funerals in cabrios
Howl for the droners who giggle when killing
Howl for moons falling into beer-sodden parks
Howl for kid angels sorting junk in the morning
Howl for gods who wear pictures on their arms
Howl for bombers chasing whores in the sky
Howl for the motherless kissing tins in supermarkets
Howl for the acid faced brides of a lost country
Howl for the pissers, the quick fixers and the holy drinkers
praying on pavements.
Holy occupy holy resistance holy lennon holy allen holy
ernesto and all the prophets who know that
everybody is truth, let them be blessed for
the hard days to come. moving.
poem by Leslie Philibert
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Just Because
Just because you did
Doesn't mean that you should
Just because you can
Doesn't mean that you could
Just because you are able
Doesn't mean you would
Just because you sat
Doesn't mean you should‘ve stood.
Just because you spoke
Doesn't mean that you thought
Just because you looked
Doesn't mean that you sought
Just because you argued
Doesn't mean that you fought
Just because you dreamed
Doesn't mean that you wished not.
Just because you cried
Doesn't mean that you wept
Just because you had
Doesn't mean that you kept
Just because you cleaned
Doesn't mean that you swept
Just because you said yes
Doesn't mean that you accept.
Just because you gathered
Doesn't mean that you own
Just because you gave up
Doesn't mean that you were alone
Just because you saw
Doesn't mean that you were shown
Just because you expiate
Doesn't mean you should atone.
Just because your old
Doesn't mean that you have flaws
Just because you won
Doesn't mean you have to applause
Just because you waited
Doesn't mean that you paused
Just because you were you
Doesn't mean anything, because.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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The Big Black Trawler
THE very best ship that ever I knew
-Ah-way O, to me O-
Was a big black trawler with a deep-sea crew-
Sing, my bullies, let the bullgine run.
There was one old devil with a broken nose
-Ah-way O, to me O-
He was four score years, as I suppose-
But sing, my bullies, let the bullgine run.
We was wrecked last March, in a Polar storm
-Ah-way O, to me O-
And we asked the old cripple if his feet was warm-
Sing, my bullies, let the bullgine run.
And the old, old devil (he was ninety at the most)
-Ah-way O, to me O-
Roars, ' Ay, warm as a lickle piece of toast '-
So sing, my bullies, let the bullgine run.
' For I soaked my sea-boots and my dungarees
-Ah-way O, to me O-
In the good salt water that the Lord don't freeze '-
Oh sing, my bullies, let the bullgine run.
poem by Alfred Noyes
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She Is Not In Love With The Devil
She is not in love with the devil
Because the devil doesn't respect her
And neither her wishes
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Mr Songbird (from 12 Track Edition)
Won't you sing me a song or two,
Won't take you long to just sing to me please,
Won't you whistle a tune.
I got nothing to gain, I got nothing to lose,
But if you sing me a song,
You'll make me happy [?].
Sing Mr. Songbird,
Sing Mr. Songbird,
Sing Mr. Songbird,
You help to keep my troubles away.
Sing Mr. Songbird,
Sing Mr. Songbird,
Sing Mr. Songbird,
You help to keep my troubles away.
Mister, won't you sing me a song,
Won't you sing a little melody.
Won't you try to help me along,
Won't you sing a little song for me, oh yeah.
Sing me a song or two,
Won't take you long to just sing to me please,
Won't you whistle a tune.
Though I ain't got a beanie
'Cause I've nothing to dream,
So if you waiting for nothing,
Do something for me.
Sing Mr. Songbird,
Sing Mr. Songbird,
Sing Mr. Songbird,
You help to keep my troubles away.
Sing Mr. Songbird,
Sing Mr. Songbird,
Sing Mr. Songbird,
You help to keep my troubles away.
You help to keep my problems away.
You help to keep the devil away.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mr. Songbird
Won't you sing me a song or two,
Won't take you long to just sing to me please,
Won't you whistle a tune.
I got nothing to gain, i got nothing to lose,
But if you sing me a song,
You'll make me happy [?].
Sing mr. songbird,
Sing mr. songbird,
Sing mr. songbird,
You help to keep my troubles away.
Sing mr. songbird,
Sing mr. songbird,
Sing mr. songbird,
You help to keep my troubles away.
Mister, won't you sing me a song,
Won't you sing a little melody.
Won't you try to help me along,
Won't you sing a little song for me, oh yeah.
Sing me a song or two,
Won't take you long to just sing to me please,
Won't you whistle a tune.
Though i ain't got a beanie
'cause i've nothing to dream,
So if you waiting for nothing,
Do something for me.
Sing mr. songbird,
Sing mr. songbird,
Sing mr. songbird,
You help to keep my troubles away.
Sing mr. songbird,
Sing mr. songbird,
Sing mr. songbird,
You help to keep my troubles away.
You help to keep my problems away.
You help to keep the devil away.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Sing
I sing to vent the pain that is sometimes in me
Other times I sing of happiness, jubilation and glee
Sometimes I sing in celebration and can rock out all night long
I sing of love through every ballad and heart wrenching love song
Sometimes I sing a song that is trapped inside my head
I sing it all day long, sometimes until I go to bed
I sing of memories, songs that mark pages in my past
I sing on holidays, great carols that last and last and last
I sing when I am working, then time doesn’t seem so long
I sing when I am lonely, there’s nothing like the comfort of a song
To me, to sing with all my voice is simply a blast
I hope to sing everyday of my life until I breathe my last
poem by Rhonda Baker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Howl
There is a hatred that's in my soul
I feel it strong in this world that I prowl
This anger and terror I must let go
So at the moon; I will howl, I will howl.
I will grit my teeth and shout in anger
When anyone tries to hurt or offend me
That is who I am and it makes me stronger
There is an animal that wants to be free.
Perspiration comes quickly to my head and face
So that hostility I remove it with soap and a towel
But that coming of anger I cannot erase
So at the moon; I will howl, I will howl.
I cannot control my ideals or a bad thought
The loathing of others I wish never was born
But being used and hurt I never had sought
As in my mind and soul that is a prickly thorn.
In disgust I walk with my two fists clinched
And when I speak it comes out in a growl
From my temper I run as though being pinched
So at the moon; I will howl, I will howl.
poem by Randy McClave
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How Many Questions Our Life Arise
Not looking at anybody doesn't mean not to see,
To do the things you like doesn't mean to be free.
To be at the very verge of life doesn't mean to die.
And standing on the ground doesn't mean not to fly.
And how much to pepper so that all could be well?
And how much to sugar to sweeten the hell?
To live a normal life doesn't mean not to dream.
But how long to wait realizing that dream?
How loudly shout to suppress a whisper?
What questions to ask to recognize a twister?
Do not forgiving offense is not to keep the evil,
A beautiful appearance can hide the devil.
Not screaming with pain, doesn't mean not to suffer.
To be deceived, does not mean to be a duffer.
How cool to be to avoid the passion?
And how sensitive to be to see the affection?
Many questions in our tough life arise.
The answers are found if you are enough wise.
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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The Madman's Song
Oh, let us howl some heavy note,
Some deadly-dogged howl,
Sounding as from the threatening throat
Of beasts and fatal fowl!
As ravens, screech-owls, bulls, and bears,
We'll bell, and bawl our parts,
Till irksome noise have cloyed your ears
And corrosived your hearts.
At last, whenas our quire wants breath,
Our bodies being blest,
We'll sing like swans to welcome death,
And die in love and rest.
poem by John Webster
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Overheard on a Salmarsh
Nymph, nymph, what are your beads?
Green glass, goblin. Why do you stare at them?
Give them me.
No.
Give them me. Give them me.
No.
Then I will howl all night in the reeds,
Lie in the mud and howl for them.
Goblin, why do you love them so?
They are better than stars or water,
Better than voices of winds that sing,
Better than any man's fair daughter,
Your green glass beads on a silver ring.
Hush, I stole them out of the moon.
Give me your beads, I want them.
No.
I will howl in the deep lagoon
For your green glass beads, I love them so.
Give thme me. Give them.
No.
poem by Harold Monro
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The Hounds Howl At Night (Reprise)
The hounds howl at night
Because evil is here
The hounds howl at night
For the terror that will soon begin
The hounds howl at night
For the blackness of the night
The hounds howl at night
For their love of the crescent moon
Even though it's shrouded in fog
poem by Justin Gildow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Made A Wish
I made a wish upon a
Falling star
“Hoping”
“Eagerly”
To make that one
Little wish
“In hoping”
My wish would prevail
Itself
To be true
And start the rain
“Or maybe snow”
And let me make it
To a Beauty salon
While I attempt to sing
Ain’t no sunshine when
He’s gone
“As”
The dogs howl at the
Moon.
“Or maybe”
My singing
“Lord”
My wish was not granted
For I still can’t sing
The dogs and cats seem
To appear disturb when I
Sing
They howl and meow
I wished upon a falling
Star
For a singing voice that
Would make me rich
“maybe a bit famous”
“Laugh”
So, that dream just
Blew away
Within the frosty winds
In the year of the rain
Washed away with the
High tide
I wished upon a falling
Star
Didn’t get my wish but
That beautiful little twinkling
Star
Was truly intriguing for the
Eye to see
“Thank God”
I went to a beauty salon
Got the works
Clean down to my toes
Ain’t that grand and I
And I feel brand new
poem by Carolyn Sears
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What He Did....
what he did, he did his best,
when asked to sing, he sang
when asked to jump, he jumped
he did not only become a singer
he became a juggler as well,
this is because he wants,
and all he wanted was to please them
not just her
but all of them,
i pity him, he became a clown at the end
of those crazy years of yearning to please
the people that he loves
specially, that woman
because he loves her that much
but what about her? she becomes the
devil,
his devil that consumes every flesh on him
every bone she scraped
for seasoning
and sometimes i ask myself
upon looking at this ghastly situation
how did he become a clown
and how did she turn herself into a devil?
i don't think love was the reason.
i think, it is something else,
and we still did not know it.
until now, accurately.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Real Mean Bottle
No man ever sounded so lonesome
No man ever made you feel such pain
Lord, it must have been a real mean bottle
That made you sing that way.
The stories you told about prison
About a young man gone astray
Lord, it must have been a real mean bottle
That made you write the songs that way.
Chorus:
A real mean bottle
Poured straight from the devil
It's a miracle you're standin' here today
A real mean bottle
Made you such a rebel
It must have been a real mean bottle
Made you sing that way.
You spent most all your life with strangers
With a ramblin' fever in your veins
Hag, it must have been a real mean bottle
That made you play the blues that way.
Chorus:
A real mean bottle
Poured straight from the devil
It's a miracle you're standin' here today
A real mean bottle
Made you such a rebel
It must have been a real mean bottle
Made you sing that way.
A real mean bottle
Poured straight from the devil
It must have been a real mean bottle
Made you sing that way...
song performed by by Vince Gill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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New Year: significance
New Year, s day!
A chosen day.
We celebrate
That we got rid of the old
And that we pin hope on the new.
Death and birth at the same time.
Should we mourn or cheer?
We see off the Devil
And invite the Angel.
The Angel doesn’t know
That she will turn a Devil
To men’s eyes in a year.
Are we grateful this day?
31.12.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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What I Have Seen #2
I saw a maid with her chivalrous lover:
He was both tender and true;
He kissed her lips, vowing over and over,
'Darling, I worship you.'
Sing, sing, bird of the spring,
Tell of the flowers the summer will bring.
I saw the maiden, sweet, loving, confiding,
Smile when he whispered 'Mine,'
Saw her lips meet his with no word of chiding,
Though his breath fumed with wine.
Wail, wail, Nightingale,
Sing of a mourner bowed and pale.
I saw the lover and maid at the altar,
Bound by the bands divine;
Heard the responses-they fail not nor falter-
Saw the guests pledge in wine.
Howl, howl, ominous Owl,
Shriek of the terrible tempest's scowl.
I saw the drunkard's wife weeping in anguish,
Saw her struck down by a blow;
I saw the husband in prison-cells languish-
Thus ends the tale of woe.
Shriek, shriek, O Raven! speak
Of the terrible midnight, dark and bleak.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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