Wolves Hunger
Wolf with dripping fangs
sits upon its hunches;
waiting still watches
hits upon crunches;
fat fleece farmers
embryo internal scream;
coveting fat succulent lambs
devoured in dimensions darkness;
fat choice profits dissipating.
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Wolves Hunger Adversity
Wolf with dripping fangs
sits upon its hunches;
waiting still watches
hits upon crunches;
fat adversity backs
embryo lust internal;
scream greed coveting
dimensions darkness;
blessings dissipating.
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Superstitious nonsense?
.
Gut feelings, hunches and E.S.P
mean very much the same to me.
That your subconscious is alert
to anything which may cause hurt.
You ignore them at your peril
it is your choice you have free will
If you are wise you listen to
the sage advices that’s offered you
The doubters will regret their choice
and wish they’d listened to the voice.
Which warned them clearly to beware
that danger threatens take great care
The press ahead and come to grief
Purely because the lacked belief
I do believe in E.S.P
and take my hunches seriously.
20-Jan-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Cold winter night
It was a cold winter night.
All was deadly still.
My guts so tight
I must kill!
The cry of a wolf enters my head
Like a train whistle that echoes far away.
Can it be…something lives on this winter night?
Follow the sound and pray
It does not go away.
My hunger juices flowing; I go.
I and the wolf both now know
Neither is alone in the land of snow.
Oh, how I wish I had his sight
On this cold winter night
The north wind moved in the night before.
The ground all snow and bitter cold…so bitter cold.
The sky filled with stars.
The snow grows old.
My guts so tight
What a cold, cold winter night!
The wolf stays hidden from my sight
With it’s furry coat of gray and white.
He glides across the snow without sound
Like a ballerina tiptoeing over the ground.
My guts so tight
On this bitter cold winter night
I with my blood running slow
My hands burning cold; my face red glow
Driven by the pain in my gut
On this cold-cold bitter winter night
I must kill
To make the night still
So the hunger pains
Will be gone again
I hear nothing on this cold winter night
My hair stands up on the back of my neck
I fear the wolf knows
I turn
Crutch to spring
His fangs showing white; my knife in my hand
We circle like two roosters in a pen.
For one this will be the end.
The pain in my gut is still tight
I will kill but not for the trill
On such a killing bitter cold winter night
With the grace of a cat he springs to flight
My throat his aim on this cold winter night
My knife hits his heart…he hunches in pain;
His fangs rip my throat cutting the jugular vein.
The snows now stain on this cold winter night.
Blood and flesh flung upon the snow
Cries of pain, moans of death…soon will go
From this bitter cold ground
All is still on winter’s playground.
The wolf dances no more
My lips move but there is no sound.
My gut is still tight
I feel alright
No more time to fight
On this bitter cold winter night
Wind and snow now fill the air.
The wolf has an empty den.
The snow will be tracked no more.
Twinkle, twinkle little star
Genocide complete
In a galaxy so far
poem by Ronald Brissette
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Midnight Wolf
Tell me what the rain knows
A distant shadow flickering along a white wall
No one there to make it
Where I go the rain does follow
Midnight wolf of fading shadows
For whom which do you cry?
Why do you follow me?
Why? Please tell me why!
Someday tomorrow the rain will cease to follow
I am the only one that dares to believe
I can only see what other's don't see
Oh midnight wolf of sorrow
You still will always follow
Why are you the only one who believe's in me?
Oh come time tomorrow
The rain again will follow
And I will be the only to see
Oh midnight wolf of sorrow
Come please, please do follow
For we are the only one's who see
That the rain is the knowledge of past and future profits
The profits that only we can see
Midnight wolf that follows
The rain the cries in sorrow
I hope you both will never leave me
So dear midnight wolf of flickering shade
Do tell me what the rain does say
poem by Janelle Morehart
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Dripping Water
Dripping water, dripping water,
everywhere!
from the horizon of heaven,
on the land, on the sand,
makes me happy, and so elated,
Dripping water, dripping water,
everywhere!
from the dark black clouds,
on the leaves, on the tress,
gives them a slow quick bath,
Dripping water, dripping water,
everywhere!
from the thunderstruck light,
on the eyes, on the cheeks,
makes everyone to turn the face up!
Dripping water, dripping water,
everywhere!
from the beauty of sky,
onthe mud, on the rivers,
makes musical splashes when gets strike,
Dripping water, dripping water,
everywhere!
from the love of vast scream,
to the beautiful murmors of land,
makes me sing, and dance.
poem by Tayyeba Mustafa
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The True Encounter
"Wolf!" cried my cunning heart
At every sheep it spied,
And roused the countryside.
"Wolf! Wolf!"—and up would start
Good neighbours, bringing spade
And pitchfork to my aid.
At length my cry was known:
Therein lay my release.
I met the wolf alone
And was devoured in peace.
poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay
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The Hungry Wolf
its stalks those you feel joy and happiness
and feeds off misery and self-doubt
until they're dead
they can no longer scream or shout
It skulks around the in the shadows
waiting for the sounds of a lover, with a broken heart
or a mother cring for her lost child
it can be so close, but u'd never know, for no one is that smart
The wolf knows, all good things must come to an end
he finds couples that are in love and just waits
when one gets thier heart broke, and waits for it to mend
the darkness provides a perfect place for the Wolf to strike
poem by Born Frustrated
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Love & Fame & Death
it sits outside my window now
like and old woman going to market;
it sits and watches me,
it sweats nevously
through wire and fog and dog-bark
until suddenly
I slam the screen with a newspaper
like slapping at a fly
and you could hear the scream
over this plain city,
and then it left.
the way to end a poem
like this
is to become suddenly
quiet.
Submitted by .eve.
poem by Charles Bukowski
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Wolf
Never believe all you hear.
Wolves are not as bad as lambs.
I've been a wolf all my life,
And have two lovely daughters
To show for it, while I could
Tell you sickening tales of
Lambs who got their just deserts.
poem by Kenneth Rexroth from A Bestiary (1956)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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If There's A God In Heaven (What's He Waiting For?)
Torn from their families
Mothers go hungry
To feed their children
But children go hungry
There's so many big men
They're out making millions
When poverty's profits
Just blame the childrenIf there's a God in heaven
What's he waiting for
If He can't hear the children
Then he must see the war
But it seems to me
That he leads his lambs
To the slaughter house
And not the promised landDying for causes
They don't understand
We've been taking their futures
Right out of their hands
They need the handouts
To hold back the tears
There's so many crying
But so few that hearIf there's a God in heaven
Well, what's he waiting forIf there's a God in heaven
What's he waiting for
poem by Mthokozisi Ntokozo Maphumulo
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Changing Dimensions Seen
Changing dimensions seen.
No retracting to step back.
Changing dimensions seen.
The past is gone and that's a fact.
Changing dimensions seen.
Changing dimensions seen.
A consciousness has been uplifted.
Changing dimensions seen.
And gone are all those flaws abhorred.
Changing dimensions seen.
Those bigoted with prejudice...
Find they've been dismissed.
And...
Changing dimensions seen.
Changing dimensions seen.
People sharing with a caring.
Changing dimensions seen.
And racists are considered sick.
Changing dimensions seen.
Changing dimensions seen.
A consciousness has been uplifted.
Changing dimensions seen.
And gone are all those flaws abhorred.
Changing dimensions seen.
Those bigoted with prejudice...
Find they've been dismissed and quick!
Changing dimensions seen.
Changing dimensions seen.
And...
No retracting to step back.
Changing dimensions seen.
The past is gone and that's a fact.
Changing dimensions seen.
That peace resisted over-rules,
And those who cling to hate are fools.
Changing dimensions seen.
And...
Changing dimensions seen.
And...
Changing dimensions seen.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Lions Share
[ music: natalie merchant & dennis drew/words: natalie merchant ]
Can I be unhappy?
Look at what I see: a beast in furs and crowned in luxury.
Hes a wealthy man in the poorest land, a self-appointed king,
And theres no complaining while hes reigning.
The lambs are bare of fleece and cold; the lion has stolen that, Im told.
There must be some creature mighty as you are.
The lambs go hungry (not fair), the biggest portion is the lions share.
There must be some creature mighty as you are.
Can I be unhappy?
Listen and agree, no words can shame him or tame him.
The lambs are bare of fleece and cold; the lion has stolen that, Im told.
There must be some creature mighty as you are.
The lambs go hungry (not fair), the biggest portion is the lions share.
There must be some creature mighty as you are, as you are.
Razor claws in velvet paws, you dunce in your guarded home,
til a stronger beast will call on you and pounce upon your throne.
Do we pay? dearly, for the lion takes so greedily
And he knows that what hes taken, it is ours.
Thats how the wealths divided among the lambs and king of the beasts, it is so one-sided.
Until the lamb is king of the beasts we live so one-sided.
song performed by by 10000 Maniacs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Message Of Messiah Still Cures
rejecting mind visions not
rejecting artistic aspirations not
embracing possessions not
coveting admiration not
coveting the lime light not
coveting idol worship not
mine heart aspires
to ephemeral gratification not
to riches of capitalism not
divine music still lures
message of Messiah still cures
climbing stairway to heaven
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Jiggle-joggle! Giggle-goggle! A LONE WOLF Struggles in the Jungle!
Ships pass in the night speaks only a signal shown by choice
To other ships passing by – it’s a distant voice in the darkness;
Same as the ocean of life, one speaks by a look and a voice
To another then darkness again and silence in the duskiness.
Jiggle-joggle! Giggle-goggle! A lone wolf struggles in the jungle!
My heart flinches as another heart doesn’t answer and a frown,
My mind squinches if he hears only the echoes of my own;
Thoughts and finds no other inspiration - in frustration I am;
For A-Z loneness is my home, right to the end alone I am!
Jiggle-joggle! Giggle-goggle! A lone wolf struggles in the jungle!
Loneliness is killing me with spine-chilling terror, I can’t bear;
Loneliness is tormenting me with thousand hells; I can shed a tear;
I don't want to sleep as loneliness digs a hole in me – oh my dear!
I love everyone but none can hear nor come near but one fear.
Jiggle-joggle! Giggle-goggle! A lone wolf struggles in the jungle!
Alone each minute, alone each hour of every night and day,
Alone I walk the streets at night, alone I live, alone I dream,
Alone I eat, alone I sleep; alone I weep, I cry and I scream!
Alone I stay, alone I lay; alone I pray to end this life – I say......
Jiggle-joggle! Giggle-goggle! A lone wolf struggles in the jungle!
poem by Harindhar Reddy
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Foolmoon
Nights that last three score hours
as mute minutes
slowly splutter out their life
waxing in endless repetition.
First thought at birth of day
Last at day’s death
a death that would not die.
Like a moth witched within your spell
mesmerized singe their soul, in the hell you make.
You were a heart user
craving game
seeking any succulent male loser
intercepted within your reach.
A black widow dancing on vibrant web
of your vile deception.
Potent fangs dripping venom
to suck forth each fresh life;
embalming chosen victim.
A single loose cinder
fallen from amoral ashen log.
Cast out ashen and bitter
seeking out flesh to blacken then blister.
Engulfing to sear in flame
the wages of pain you pay.
A pathway of torches alien from
the star speckled night,
lighting the darkness of your soul.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Unseen dangers!
She prowls the floor then sits and stares.
But when I look there’s nothing there
But still watches carefully.
What does she see that I can’t see?
I wonder why she sits and stares.
Nothing will catch her unawares.
Perhaps she is protecting me
from dangers that I cannot see.
Cats tend to mind their own affairs.
They’re secretive and will not share.
The only thing that worries me.
I still don’t know what she can see.
Why should I worry needlessly?
While she watches protectively.
Thursday,22 September 2011
Http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Both (Darkness And Light)
every baby born,
both Jesus and Hitler!
both the slave,
and the slave owner...
both the cross,
and the gun!
both the sheep and the wolf,
both the fire, and the rain.
both the truth and the lie,
the spirit, and the profit.
both darkness and light,
both the cell, and freedom!
winds blown by choice,
choice molded by experience.
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Impact
It hits!
No one knows,
How to deal with it.
An upsetting impact strikes.
And the suddenness of this,
Finds many unprepared.
It does not fit.
There is no choice,
To accept or resist.
It hits!
Unexpectedly.
And no one knows,
How it was imposed.
An upsetting impact strikes.
And the suddenness of this,
Finds many unprepared.
It does not fit.
There is no choice,
To accept or resist.
This impact scatters a consciousness.
Storming mentalities and doing it quick.
And this no one believes.
All exits are closed.
With eyes opened wide...
Leaving those feeling exposed.
There is no where to flee.
Some receive this as a gift.
But what are they going to do with it?
It hits!
But how can it be described?
When the impact attacks from inside.
It hits.
An evolution stirs a higher consciousness.
An impact comes...
To split and lift!
As if assisted by a divine shift!
Without debates or mandates to pick.
It hits.
And we are in the midst of it!
Beset...
Or bothered not!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Ayers Rock / Uluru
old Mr Uluru
a proud man
the day the Rock
was handed back
sits waiting
old Mr Walkabout
a proud man
at the twenty-fifth
anniversary of the
hand back
sits waiting
in the Red Rock tavern
the old men sit
waiting
yous wanna beer
the barman yells
he comes over
whatcha waiting for
the old men stare out
over their Country
waiting
waiting
for recognition
as Traditional Owners
more than just
a few days
in their life time.
poem by Ali Eckermann
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His Eye Is On The Sparrow
Why should I feel discouraged
Why should the shadows come
Why should my heart feel lonely
And long for heaven and home
When Jesus is my portion
A constant friend is He
His eye is on the sparrow
And I know He watches over me
His eye is on the sparrow
And I know He watches me
I sing because I'm happy
I sing because I'm free
His eye is on the sparrow
And I know He watches me (He watches me)
His eye is on the sparrow
And I know He watches
I know He watches
I know He watches me
I sing because I'm happy
I sing because I'm free
His eye is on the sparrow
And I know He watches me (He watches me)
His eye is on the sparrow
And I know He watches me (He watches me)
He watches me
I know
He watches
Me
song performed by by Lauryn Hill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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