Lone Wolf Plan
I get more power,
At night time.
I am a lone wolf,
And a smart one too.
I hunt by myself,
And feed myself.
I look for love,
But I always get rejected.
I've taken my last reject,
So I hunt for blood.
I hunt the one's,
Who rejcted me.
I hunt my old pack,
To kill the leader.
Once that's done,
I'll be leader.
I can lead my new pack,
To victory.
I shall win a new love,
And win a pack.
My strength is better,
But my smarts are better.
I am clever,
So I will win.
I fight the leader,
And lose.
Now I die,
All alone.
My plans have failed,
My life has just began.
I might not breath the air,
Or run freely.
But my new life,
As a spirit,
Has just begun...
poem by Dragon Crenshaw
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Lone White Wolf: The Hunt
As the first day of the new moon creeps into the trees, no wolf among the pack gathers to see the light overcome the darkness to bring in the new day except the lone white wolf. This peculiar wolf is almost solid white except for the black along the length of his nose. It watches over the pack as they peacefully sleep, unaware of his eyes that could protect everything that was soon to come.
Today was the first day of the long hunt for the white wolf. He must bring down an animal that could feed the whole pack for several days, so he could become an official member of the pack, but more importantly, he must prove himself to be one with the pack instead of running alone.
The leader of the wolf pack slowly raises his head like a turtle to look around to see who’s awake. He sees all the wolves are still asleep in a tight circle except the outcast. The leader doesn’t understand why this wolf sleeps alone nor does he understand why the wolf was born white instead of gray. The white wolf stirs from his wakeful sleep. The eyes of the self-proclaimed leader stay on him before moving off to look into the distance searching for all the answers to his questions among the countless trees.
The leader of the wolf pack slowly gets up and walks to the lone wolf and nudges him to sound the morning howl. It was customary for the leader of the wolf pack to do this, but for reasons unknown to any wolf besides the leader, the wolf chose the outcast to sound the howl. The white wolf understands and gives a howl to stir the remaining wolves out of their deep slumber.
Once all the wolves are fully awake and able to comprehend what today is and what it means for the outcast, they realize it is the first day of the new moon. It is the first day of the long hunt. All of the wolves first look to the leader, then to the outcast, then back to the leader wondering who is going to give the special howl to begin the long hunt. No wolf willingly howled the beginning of the long hunt because if the howl was bad, the hunt would go badly, but if the howl was good, the hunt would go smoothly and the hunt would be short. The answer is soon apparent when the eyes of the leader look over the pack to see whose eyes would meet his. None but one pair kept his gaze.
The leader gave a sign, and the wolf began to prepare to give the special howl that would determine the outcome of the hunt. A wolf could not open its muzzle and give an ordinary howl since the hunt would also go badly. To give the special howl the wolf must pull back its hind legs and brace itself to make sure all legs are securely anchored to the ground so that the wolf, while giving the special howl would not slide backwards during the middle of it.
The lone wolf was ready mentally and physically to give the special howl. Once his feet were securely on the ground, the wolf began the howl. The lone white wolf put everything in his howl: the pain of being an outcast his entire life, the anger at his individuality, everything was put into that howl. Wolves stepped back with their fur standing on end; birds flew away squawking bloody murder. The others started yipping and snapping at nothing in particular remembering everything they’d ever felt. After the lone wolf was done, he realized the effect his special howl had on the wolves and he noticed the disarray and confusion that he had caused.
The leader is satisfied and gets the pack into order; it was time to begin the hunt. The wolves began running, their muscles rippling beneath their skin. Nothing could stop them. Their destination was a mile and a half down the road where the large game was located. Running freely among the wolf pack, the lone wolf didn’t feel like an outcast, but whenever he began to get too close, a shallow snip on the shoulder would shove him away to a safer distance.
The game was just ahead; it was time for the lone wolf to prove himself to the pack. The lone wolf went ahead of the pack and picked one of the biggest caribou he could find and slowly approached while the pack followed. The wolves lurched like a bullet from a gun onto the caribou with the white wolf clinging to the exposed flesh of the neck bringing it to the ground but not before it got one last kick in. The kill was successful; the caribou was dead. It was then that the white wolf noticed the bloody mess of the leader of the pack. The last kick of the now dead caribou landed on the skull of the leader, and he was dead instantly. The sight was a grizzly one with his skull caved in and blood gushing out of the wound.
The self-proclaimed leader was dead with no next-in-line to follow. Every wolf looked to the now dead leader, then to the outcast, then back to the dead leader, and then back to the outcast. The white wolf met the eyes of each wolf and got an unspoken request from each one. It was unanimous; the previous outcast of the pack became the leader. For the first time in history, a white wolf was chosen to lead and will lead the wolves to a prosperity the wolves have never known.
2009 October
poem by Matthew Bresette
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Natural Selection for Friend Thad
I am a male an alpha plus.
My only purpose is to breed,
to sow the seeds of genius.
So that my offspring will succeed.
I am the leader of the pack.
No one is fit to take my place.
I have the wisdom which they lack.
I am the wolf who sets the pace.
We work together as a team
but I direct the strategy
I have the wit to plan and scheme
The other wolves defer to me.
That is the way it has to be
As long as I am best I’ll lead.
Some day some pup will challenge me
and hopefully he will succeed..
I am a male an alpha plus
but even alpha males grow old.
In nature it was ever thus
The leadership goes to the bold.
I’m not the wolf I used to be.
I’ve had my time now I must leave.
The pack goes on triumphantly
just as it should do I believe..
To lead the pack a privilege
that’s only open to a few.
Who have the strength and the knowledge
to rule the pack as they must do.
A pack that lacks strong leadership
will very quickly succumb to
lack of direction and hardship.
A leader must know what to do.
But also know he must give way.
To new leader in due course
He’s played the part he had to play
a law that nature will enforce.
Only the best is fit to lead
life is a struggle to survive.
Though a strong leader will succeed
ensuring that his pack will live.
Though leaders come and leaders go.
The pack remains an entity
Since time began it has been so
and will for ever seemingly.
11/06/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Leader Of The Pack
Is she really going out with him?
Yeah, I dont know, there she is
Lets ask her
Betty? is that johnnys ring youre wearing?
Aha!
Wow, it must be great riding with him
Yeah, is he picking you up after school today?
A-a!
By the way, whered you meet him?
I meet him at the candy store
He turned around and smiled at me
Do you get the picture?
Yes, we see
Thats when I fell for the leader of the pack
My folks were always putting him down
(down, down)
The said that he came from
The wrong side of town
(wrong side of town)
Theyd told me he was bad
But I know he was sad
Thats why I fell for the leader of the pack
One day my dad said, find someone new
I had to tell my johnny were through
He stood there and asked me why
But all I could do was cry
Im sorry I hurt you, the leader of the pack
Well, he sort of smiled and kissed me goodly
And the tears began to fall
And as he drove away on that rainy night
I begged him to go slow
But whether he heard me Ill never know
Look out, look out, oh look out!
I felt so helpess, what could I do
Remembering all the things wed been through
At school theyd all stop and stare
I cant have a chance but I dont care
Ill never forget him the leader of the pack...
The leader of the pack, now hes gone...
song performed by by Carpenters
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Unforgiven Hunt
I shouldn't be telling you this
No one should be telling you this, but
Only a few people even know
About the time of the Unforgiven Hunt-
We are on the Unforgiven Hunt, so I should tell you
I can't even tell you
What the Hunt is about
And why it is called just that-
The Hunt
But I just told you
That the Hunt is called the Hunt
For a reason-
So now I should tell you the whole story
How we came to this point
Why our features stand out
In the whole world, all the countries
First, we were like all the others
Down-to-earth, forgiving, out loud
Sharing all our secrets
But now the Hunt people regret
That we came this far
We came this far, we broke our friendship apart
Now we are on the Unforgiven Hunt
The time of the Hunt started at the time of the Hunt
No one really knows
When it was, what it was that unbalanced the scale
Of life and death-
But we are on the Unforgiven Hunt
We started the Unforgiven Hunt by saying,
"We have to increase our lifestyle, then we'll stop"
But over time, it grew to be our hobby
Beating other countries
In machines, in factories and greed
In food, in water and high standards
In shelter, in organizing, in need
We are still on the Unforgiven Hunt
I Hunt
I hunt.
For specific kinds of meat.
I hunt.
To feed that desire within me I seek.
I hunt.
I do not keep my needs a secret.
I do not wish to discreet them in any way.
I hunt.
I want this known.
I want it easy for the meat,
To be captured and seasoned.
With a sauté done to taste.
And delayed at a minimum wait.
I hunt.
For specific kinds of meat.
I hunt.
To feed that desire within me I seek.
I hunt.
To satisfy what it is I do.
And grunt...
Sometimes,
Just before the morning dew appears.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Law of the Jungle
Now this is the Law of the Jungle -- as old and as true as the sky; And the Wolf that shall keep it may prosper, but the Wolf that shall break it must die. AAs the creeper that girdles the tree-trunk the Law runneth forward and back --
For the strength of the Pack is the Wolf, and the strength of the Wolf is the Pack.
Wash daily from nose-tip to tail-tip; drink deeply, but never too deep;
And remember the night is for hunting, and forget not the day is for sleep.
The Jackal may follow the Tiger, but, Cub, when thy whiskers are grown,
Remember the Wolf is a Hunter -- go forth and get food of thine own.
Keep peace withe Lords of the Jungle -- the Tiger, the Panther, and Bear.
And trouble not Hathi the Silent, and mock not the Boar in his lair.
When Pack meets with Pack in the Jungle, and neither will go from the trail,
Lie down till the leaders have spoken -- it may be fair words shall prevail.
When ye fight with a Wolf of the Pack, ye must fight him alone and afar,
Lest others take part in the quarrel, and the Pack be diminished by war.
The Lair of the Wolf is his refuge, and where he has made him his home,
Not even the Head Wolf may enter, not even the Council may come.
The Lair of the Wolf is his refuge, but where he has digged it too plain,
The Council shall send him a message, and so he shall change it again.
If ye kill before midnight, be silent, and wake not the woods with your bay,
Lest ye frighten the deer from the crop, and your brothers go empty away.
Ye may kill for yourselves, and your mates, and your cubs as they need, and ye can;
But kill not for pleasure of killing, and seven times never kill Man!
If ye plunder his Kill from a weaker, devour not all in thy pride;
Pack-Right is the right of the meanest; so leave him the head and the hide.
The Kill of the Pack is the meat of the Pack. Ye must eat where it lies;
And no one may carry away of that meat to his lair, or he dies.
The Kill of the Wolf is the meat of the Wolf. He may do what he will;
But, till he has given permission, the Pack may not eat of that Kill.
Cub-Right is the right of the Yearling. From all of his Pack he may claim
Full-gorge when the killer has eaten; and none may refuse him the same.
Lair-Right is the right of the Mother. From all of her year she may claim
One haunch of each kill for her litter, and none may deny her the same.
Cave-Right is the right of the Father -- to hunt by himself for his own:
He is freed of all calls to the Pack; he is judged by the Council alone.
Because of his age and his cunning, because of his gripe and his paw,
In all that the Law leaveth open, the word of your Head Wolf is Law.
Now these are the Laws of the Jungle, and many and mighty are they;
But the head and the hoof of the Law and the haunch and the hump is -- Obey!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Hunt Never Ends
Here I sit
by the reflective pool
my pups sit around me
as I howl at the moon
calling the pack
there is a heard of deer
sleeping under the willow tree
Tonight
The....Hunt....
Will....Sta rt
tonight
we eat our fill and slip into a quiet rest
the hunt never ends
:)
poem by Erika Rayl
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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How Are The Weak Free?
They will hunt again.
With years to plan.
And sharpen their teeth.
But no one knows, no one knows.
Free the wolf from his cage.
Watch him hunt, stalk his prey.
We let them go.
They will hunt again.
Prey on the simple.
Feast in the temple.
Free the wolf?
We must put him down.
We'll put him down again.
Our protectors hide and grin.
song performed by by Zao
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Nashoba Pack
A pack of creatures
That walk and creeps.
Like scavengers in the woods.
Of different exposed hoods.
They hunt for power.
Infamous for murders.
They fight like predators.
Vicious as Halloween in October.
Have scary eyes.
That you should fear.
Black ski masks is what they wear.
The Nashoba pack is here
And the end is near.
Nocturnal like animals hunting for prey.
And we are witnesses that have to pray.
Violence bleeds through the night.
Crime rate rises to the highest height.
Guns yelling and people are dying.
And we hear nothing but crying sirens.
poem by Anteaus Berryhill
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Wolf Pack
Some hunt at dusk
Some hunt at dawn
We hunt at any time
At our Alpha's howl
We all join in
A prolonged, mournful sound
Then we rise, stretch and scratch
And howl some more
To discover whereabouts
The other packs are running
The caribou are on the move
Tired from their journey
Off we lope at a steady pace
Now's the time for feasting
But first to catch our prey
Noses high, we sniff the wind
For the scent of that sweating meal
Our luck is in, for here they come
We did not have far to run
We watch, we wait, patient now
Until we spy
A lame doe, stumbling
Then we give chase, scatter them
And singling her out
She struggles, belowing, but the others stay away
So swiftly now we pull her down
And it's every wolf for himself
As the doe gives up her life
We feed, we feast
There's enough for all
It's Nature's way that her blood flows
To keep ours pumping
poem by Marilyn Shepperson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tundra Wolf Eats Wild Joy Life Survival
tundra wolf alone has survived vicious winter
alone without pack without companionship
has survived all challenges imposed in winter
fur very long dense fluffy soft survival postures
top hairs 150-160 mm guard hairs 80-150 mm
underfur 70 mm layers survival light grey colour
lower fur lead-grey upper fur reddish-grey ensures
wind composite layers in tundra wolf running
ranging over Arctic rim hunting prey life ensures
wild domestic reindeer snow sheep hares arctic foxes
feed power tundra muscles for long ranges running
make birth den in river valleys thickets in dry plateaus
rarely will tundra wolf make form permanent home territories
winter coast malting hangs on lone male wolf rough proud
looping across tundra landscape seeking reindeer migrations
days past not eating moving moving seeking prey life kills
searching herds scouting out weakness in migration herds
run lone wolf run forty minutes 30 mph hunting weakness
run with hope run with life joy smile in wild range spirit
no reindeer slow injured fall to paws gripping claws
race hunt abandoned lone wolf joy cools in pool ice waters
it is good to run it is good to be healthy flex strong muscles
season begs movement 200 300km ranging stamina wilderness runs
to hunt to live to breathe life tundra air hunting wild distances
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Good Leader
A good leader
is the one
who will lead his people
not to war
but to a better life.
When I say
a better life
it's a life
where hunger
does not exist,
education and medication
is of reach.
So a leader
who could lead his people
to a better life
is the leader
whom I will salute
for he is the only leader
whom I will call
a good leader.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Choral Leader With a Love
On you they're too dependent,
And that's what you love.
A dependency defended,
And fits like a glove.
On your nerves they irritate,
And you wish from them to get away...
To breathe and celebrate.
But you're the one who picked this tune.
Deciding what is done they do.
On you they're too dependent,
And that's what you love.
A dependency defended,
And fits like a glove.
In harmony with them you choose their solos too.
Trying to convince yourself you've had it and you're through.
A choral leader with a focus only to lead.
With a love to hear the doo wop,
Dropped nonstop.
A choral leader with a focus only to lead.
With a love to hear the doo wop,
Dropped nonstop.
And when the arguments get heated in intensity,
You say you want to pack up and from them you want to leave.
A choral leader with a focus only to lead.
With a love to hear the doo wop,
Dropped nonstop.
A choral leader with a focus only to lead.
With a love to hear the doo wop,
Dropped nonstop.
In harmony with them you choose their solos too.
Trying to convince yourself you've had it and you're through.
And when the arguments get heated in intensity,
You say you want to pack up and from them you want to leave.
On you they're too dependent,
And that's what you love.
A dependency defended,
And fits like a glove.
On your nerves they irritate,
And you wish from them to get away...
To breathe and celebrate.
But you're the one who picked this tune.
Deciding what is done they do.
A choral leader with a focus only to lead.
With a love to hear the doo wop,
Dropped nonstop.
Dropped nonstop.
A choral leader with a focus.
Dropped nonstop.
A choral leader with a love,
Dropped nonstop.
A choral leader with a love,
Dropped nonstop.
A choral leader with a love,
Dropped nonstop.
Dropped nonstop.
Dropped nonstop.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Hungry Like The Wolf
in touch with the ground
I'm on the hunt I'm after you
smell like I sound I'm lost in a crowd
and I'm hungry like the wolf
straddle the line in discord and rhyme
I'm on the hunt I'm after you
mouth is alive with juices like wine
and I'm hungry like the wolf
stalked in the forest too close to hide
I'll be upon you by the moonlight side
do do do do do do do dodo dododo dodo
high blood drumming on your skin it's so tight
you feel my heart I'm just a moment behind
do do do do do do do dodo dododo dodo
in touch with the ground
I'm on the hunt I'm after you
scent and a sound I'm lost and I'm found
and I'm hungry like the wolf
strut on a line it's discord and rhyme
I howl and I whine I'm after you
mouth is alive all running inside
and I'm hungry like the wolf
hungry like the wolf
hungry like the wolf
hungry like the wolf
buring the ground I break from the crowd
I'm on the hunt I'm after you
I smell like I sound I'm lost and I'm found
and I'm hungry like the wolf
strut on a line it's discord and rhyme
I'm on the hunt I'm after you
mouth is alive with juices like wine
and I'm hungry like the wolf
song performed by by Reel Big Fish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hungry Like The Wolf
(ha ha!)
Dark in the city, night is a wire
Steam in the subway, earth is a fire
Do-do do do, do do do, do do do, do do do, do do
Woman you want me, give me a sign
And catch my breathing even closer behind
Do-do do do, do do do, do do do, do do do, do do
In touch with the ground
Im on the hunt Im after you
Smell like I sound, Im lost in a crowd
And Im hungry like the wolf
Straddle the line, in discord and rhyme
Im on the hunt Im after you
Mouth is alive with juices like wine
And Im hungry like the wolf
Stalked in the forest, too close to hide
Ill be upon you by the moonlight side
Do-do do do, do do do, do do do, do do do, do do
High blood drumming ony our skin its so tight
You feel my heart, Im just a moment behind
Do-do do do, do do do, do do do, do do do, do do
In touch with the ground
Im on the hunt Im after you
Scent and a sound, Im lost and Im found
And Im hungry like the wolf
Strut on a line, its discord and rhyme
I howl and I whine Im after you
Mouth is alive all running inside
And Im hungry like the wolf
-
(hungry like the wolf
Hungry like the wolf
Hungry like the wolf)
Burning the ground I break from the crowd
Im on the hunt Im after you
I smell like I sound, Im lost and Im found
And Im hungry like the wolf
Strut on a line, its discord and rhyme
Im on the hunt Im after you
Mouth is alive with juices like wine
And Im hungry like the wolf
Burning the ground I break from the crowd
Im on the hunt Im after you
Scent and a sound, Im lost and Im found
And Im hungry like the wolf
Strut on a line, its discord and rhyme
I howl and I whine Im after you
Mouth is alive all running inside
And Im hungry like the wolf...
song performed by by Duran Duran
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Winter Pack
The wolves run in the night
Searching for something thats just out of sight
They hunt together on this frigid winter's night
Searching for food that will take the hunger away
The alpha stops, followed by his pack
Along a frozen lake shore is an elk
Who plays alone in the deep winter snow
The wolves are hungry they're ready for attack
The wolves circle 'round without a sound
The elk doesn't notice at all
One sharp yap and the wolves charge
The elk has fallen and tonight will be a feast
The alpha eats with hungry gazes upon him
When the rest of the pack eat it is time for sleep
But first the alpha howls and it rises through the pack
This is not a mournful hungry howl, but a joyus happy one
The wolves go to sleep under the full moon
They are happy and filled with food
They dream dreams of the coming spring
When the toll of winter will leave this winter pack.
poem by Hannah Branz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Go, Go, Power Rangers
Go! Go! Power Rangers,
don't you ever come back.
Make yourselves all strangers,
disband your paltry pack.
Go! Go! Power Rangers,
we'll flatter you no longer -
your vanity, it's contagious
but our medicine, it's stronger.
Go! Go! Power Rangers,
you're not welcome at my door.
We'd once thought you courageous,
well, we don't think that anymore.
Go! Go! Power Rangers,
your time here now has passed.
Go hunt some other dangers
for here you've seen your last.
poem by R.S. Evans
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hot Out
lips kiss
don't miss
heart hunt love...
body hunt sex
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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if I Was The Leader Of The Pack
.
If I was the leader of the pack
I would eradicate
Murder wars and hate
Each person would have
On his back
A rucksack containing
Three books
One on love of everything
One on Giving and sharing
Lastly one on religious understanding
If one prays to a stone or
A mountain a mosque or a church
Do not mock them
Their belief is a divine right
Their God is in everything
If they shave their head
Wear a turban, cover their head
Grow long hair
Understand its faith
Look at each other with love
The sentence of murder
Would not be only in the hands
Of murderers anywhere
The disgusting tolerance
Of babies skin and bone
STARVING WOULD NEVER HAPPEN
A Berlin armada of planes
Would stop that
A money bank for the starving
Should be filled daily by every
Bank on the planet
Who is the man who can?
Start all this
If I was the leader of the pack
It would be me!
poem by Ken e Hall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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