A hollow howl of a mighty wolf
Howling under the night sky,
there was a beast pride,
of his strengh and wisdom,
yet his howling was so loud,
that it could break a thick cloud
why his howling means nothing.
Where was his pack,
which serve him night and day,
hunting his prey like a black
shadow stalking its prey,
where was the pack now
why didn't they follow the leader's howl.
Where was his mistresses and mates,
which should stand by his side
and assisted him through the ages,
where were they now
O mighty wolf howl so loud,
yet no one answered to his call.
poem by Wicha Surin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
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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Generally speaking, a howling wilderness does not howl: it is the imagination of the traveler that does the howling.
quote by Henry David Thoreau
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Lone Wolf Sits
A lone wolf sits on a hill
Her black eyes gaze
A prize unaware
Somewhere below
The pack circles
Unaware of her dilemma
She has strayed
Against her mother’s wishes
She continues to play
With the wrong crowd
The lone wolf howls
The pack pounces
Their teeth are set
The scene is repeated
Until one by one
The girls are all seated
The fire crackles
As the moon rises
They circle and howl
And seek their next prey
poem by Brian Kilpatrick
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Wolfpack
Howling the pack in formation appears
Diamonds and clubs, light misted fog, the dead
Waving us back in formation,
The pack in formation
Bowling they bat as a group
And the leader is seen - so early...
The pack on their backs, the fighters
Through misty the waving - the pack in formation
Far reaching waves
On sight, shone right
I lay as if in surround...
All enmeshing, hovering...
The milder I gaze
All the animals laying trail
Beyond the bough winds
Mild the reflecting electricity eyes...
Tears, the life that was ours
Grows sharper and stronger away and beyond
Short wheeling - fresh spring
Gripped with blanched bones - moaned
Magnesium, proverbs and sobs...
Howling the pack in formation appears
Diamonds and clubs, light misted fog, the dead
Waving us back in formation,
The pack in formation...
song performed by by Pink Floyd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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A Deep Werewolf Dream
I'm howling at the moon
Always searching for you
I know you’re in the night
Wanting to taste and bite
Moving through the forest
With a dangerous quick speed
Looking, searching through the crimson night
Can you hear me calling?
Could this be possible?
Or could it be our fate
Are you my nightmare?
Or my one true mate
The moon shining on me from above
Showing a way from me to you
Such a feeling of magic embraces me
Is this what it feels like to be near you?
Such warmth, such love
Makes me want howl
The trees start to move back and forth
Pushing me to you, will you come too?
As silky grass rub against my feet
So hurry and find me
And use the moon
And hear my call howl
Follow my love and listen to the tune
Follow my love
Follow me
Straight to the full moon
poem by Tierra Fisher
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To The Wind, At Midnight
Not unfamiliar to mine ear,
Blasts of the night! ye howl as now
My shuddering casement loud
With fitful force ye beat.
Mine ear has dwelt in silent awe,
The howling sweep, the sudden rush;
And when the passing gale
Pour'd deep the hollow dirge.
poem by Henry Kirke White
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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
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The Wolf Song
Twas a night - one night in far away plains
the wolves sat in
half circles
howling away to the moon shine.
The wind whispers, the wolf howll:
shh ahooo shh ahooo shh ahooo ahooo ahooo ahooo ahooo
shh ahooo shh ahooo shh ahooo ahooo ahooo ahooo ahooo
In far away plains moon shines
through thick fog of darknesss-
orange glows thinly in silence-
wolves wonder the far away plains;
under the moon shine.
The wind whispers, the wolf howl:
shh ahooo shh ahooo shh ahooo ahooo ahooo ahooo ahooo
shh ahooo shh ahooo shh ahooo ahooo ahooo ahooo ahooo
A pale glow plays teasingly
in the dark sky.
Stars hang dangling near water's edge.
The wind blows blows away the pale glow
and thick fog covers lightly
and soon
the wind whispers, the wolves howl:
shh ahooo shh ahooo shh ahooo ahooo ahooo ahooo ahooo
shh ahooo shh ahooo shh ahooo ahooo ahooo ahooo ahooo
poem by Celine Berghmans
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The Wolf's Howl
Have You Ever Heard
A Lone Wolf’s Howl
… Sends Chills, Up My Spine
In Memory, (Even Now)
… Not Out Of Fear …
That’s Not What I Hear
It’s A Longing
A Calling
A Soul-Star Rising
And Vocalizing
A Notice … A Need
A Heed of The Breed
He’s Lifting His Head
Out Of The Dark
Not Like A Bark
But, Rite of Passage-Mark
Thru the Air, ‘Hahooooo’ Zooms
In Moonlight, and in Tune
A Long, Mellow Note
The Wolf Sung-Spoke
Wolf, is Howling To Say …
Same Things, We Pray …
Have You Ever Heard a Lone Wolf Howl
Sends Chills, Up My Spine (Even Now) ! …
poem by MoonBee Canady
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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School Hierarchy
Like the harsh wind's howling
on a lonely summer night.
Wolves in sheeps' clothing prowling,
looking for innocent prey.
Hunting and killing,
taking more then they need,
simply out of Jealousy, Spite and Greed.
The innocent looks,
the violet bright eyes,
hiding the wolf in the sheep's 'guise.
Nobody notices until all is too late,
closing the door,
the thing they call fate.
They do not repent,
for they see no harm,
in the things they've done
like a useless cheap charm.
Learn they will not,
but hunt they will,
like the sun's setting,
bringing the winter chill.
Opposite
Wolves
Wild and free
running biting and howling
animal pack family earth
roaring stalking fighting
fierce and dangerous
Lions
poem by Chris Clingman
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Creatures Of The Night..
In the night the Ravens scream,
There more beautiful than they seem.
A pack of Wolves scavenge and prowl,
Sometimes letting out an eerie howl.
The Panthers sleeping in big oak trees,
Hiding amongst the dark oak leaves.
The various Arachnids hunt and crawl,
Catching there prey and begin to maul.
Watch your back and stay out of sight,
For these are the Creatures Of The Night.
poem by Savannah VokinsNoyes
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The Tiger Smells Blood
Silently resting neath a tree,
Pawing at the straw of grass.
Eyes piercing the horizon,
Searching all senses alas.
Resting on the cool mud,
Then the Tiger smells blood.
The Tigers nostrils become filled,
Running toward the freshly killed.
The Tiger stalks through the meadow,
Sun to back, ready to attack.
A pack of dogs surround the meat,
He leaps into the pack ready to eat.
The pack filled with fear,
Stare at the mighty beast.
Would they stand fast,
Or become a part of the feast.
The Tiger snarls shoulders hunch,
Who would stand before his lunch.
The dogs bark and run away,
They would not eat their prey.
The Tiger eats the carcass crushing bones,
He then returns to lay beneath the tree.
His meal digested and stomach moans,
He licks his paws, then smiles with glee.
An old man robbed by ruthless hood,
Like a pack of dogs they draw blood.
They leave him laying in their city pride,
In the jungle, the beast will eat their hide.
poem by Saint Eule
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For this that was broken
A howl was heard
that darkend the land
for this love that was broken
they ever did understand.
The wolf howls on
with sadness and anger in his voice
for this love that was broken
wasnt his choice.
The howling stop
and the land lays silent and bleak
for this love that was broken
has made the wolf weak.
poem by Little Wolf
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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
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Beauty of The Moon
Running along the mountains
Feeling the air rush through me
Feel the earth under my paws
Running through the forest at night
My pack on my heels
Run faster and faster
My beta on my left
My she Alpha on my right
Running through the mountains
The moon shining above us
Our anchor
Curling up together under the full moon
Feel the pull to the moon
Feel its strength
Get up and start to run
Run up to the hill
I stare up at the moon
I put my head back and howl
Howl for my love
Howl for my life
Howl for the beauty of the moon
My anchor
The full moon
My she alpha
She howls alongside me
Feel the earth under my paws
I start to run
Run alongside the mountains
Breathing in the air around me
My pack at my heels
My beta on my left
My she alpha on my right
We run
We run with the moon as our anchor
We throw back our heads
We howl
We howl for our loves
We howl for our lives
We howl
For the beauty of the moon
poem by Vianca Borrero
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Howler
Here is the angel of the worlds desire
Placed on trial
To hide in shrouded alley sihouettes
With cigarette coiled
To stike at passing voices
Dark and suspect
Here is the howling ire
Here is the sacred face of rendevous
In subway sour
Whose grand delusions prey like intellect
In lunatic minds
Intent and focused on
The long thin matches
To light the howling fire...
No, no, not me,
Burn, I dont wanna burn.....
song performed by by King Crimson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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