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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Lone Wolf
I am a lone wolf
I always was and will be
I feel fine, I am resigned to this
I am a lone wolf
I am a lone wolf
Got my cares
Wrapped up all nice and neat
In my suitcase
Ill take it down the street
To a place with plenty of space for me
I am a lone wolf
I am a lone wolf
It blows my mind
That people wanna try to get inside my tired head
I am a lone wolf
I am a lone wolf
I am a lone wolf
Nobody needs to get too close to me
Youll only see this truth
I am a lone wolf
song performed by by Eels

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

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Just Writting About Wolfs
days get colder nights get longer..wind howls a lonely howl
deep in the night a lone wolf howls do his howls fall on def ears
as he sits high upon a cliff looking down upon the woods he calls home
he wonders in the shadows a loner but never really alone
we has the wind the earth and the air that goes threw him
it like an old friend to him the darkness the shadows
the wolf wonders alone in mind and thoughts
whats he thinking of
we may never know know....
but hawk circles above does he hear the howl as the wolf says hello in the nights sky to hawk
flying so live so free
the wolf is the path finder the teacher they finder of the way
the hawk hears the howl and carries the message up to the sky
what the message, , , , , you may as for each its difffenrt each its own sound even one of silance
the wolf knows all is well in the world tonght
dont know why i wrote this one or whats its meaning is just kinda came to me as i sat here watching the football game
hope you all enjoyed
greyicewolf
.
poem by Jeff Greyicewolf

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Wolf Moon
Though no longer amongst us
Their tradition and spirit lingers on
Like the names associated with
Each month's new full moon
A reoccurring theme in the cycle
When months are measured by moons returning
A practice common among indigenous peoples
In the month of January
A great moon rises slowly
And at night the Wolf pack howl out plaintively
For food is scarce and the wolves are hungry
To the First Peoples - The Wolf is brother
And only a brother can feel the pain of his brother's hunger
That is why the Native Peoples name January “Wolf Moon” in their brother's honor
Now to a museum, all too soon -The Tipi (tepee, teepee) has gone
Whilst within a reservation the Wolf Pack are free to roam
As for their spirit - It is running free
And cannot be captured, best to let it be
Your Brother, The Wolf never was your enemy
© Calac
poem by Chris Lane

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Howls the Wolf I
Lone gray wolf, within spread mist,
a ghostly white of bones in midden,
spirits of woods, the howl 's amidst,
a ghost negation of a life forbidden.
His scream arises drawstring in dark,
timber crusader, unlighted instinct,
subdued urge to spill lives and mark,
ground traces where victims extinct.
Howls the wolf, night ebon of virtue,
absolute ecstasy of virtuoso chordal,
ruthless woods laws coexist in battue,
solitude is transformed to red ordeal.
Howls the wolf, merit call to heaven,
spirits of woods, the blare 's amidst,
accept his prayer to moon as deaden
hunt 's a forfeit into woods to inexist.
Howls the wolf in nighttime lone cry,
bellows prayers for 'dies dominicus'
invokes a clamor afore Sovereign sky,
severe rules are enacted 'dis ducibus'.
poem by Giorgio Veneto

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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

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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

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Lone Wolf
I sit on this rock
Feeling hopeless inside
A lone wolf am I
I howl at the moon
Wishing it would howl back
If it did I would not feel so lonely inside
Its glow seems to say
Don’t worry it’s going to be alright
But I feel lonely just the same
I wonder if, on this night
There is another wolf
Who also feels hopeless inside
I wish for a friend
Just like me
Who sometimes feels lonely inside
Loneliness is like a pit of darkness
Right where your heart should be
It grasps you and wont lose its hold
Because loneliness is like a great beast
That lives within us all
So, I think, we must try to fight back
But I know one thing for certain
Everyone at one time or another
Is a lone wolf
poem by Giuliana Carder

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The lone wolf may yet kill as many deer as a pack.
Six Pack Girls
Gonna find some girls tonight
My friday night has washed away
Beer bong has me wandering around
The girls that look like drugs and alcohol
Six pack girls,
Six pack girls
Six pack girls
Six pack
So you pick her up and you bring her home
And you think about it for a while
Wake up the next morning and sure enough
Its not two girls!
Version 2
Go to work, and then go to bed your friday night,
Has washed away your bummed out,
About your work cause youve already put in,
Your thousand hours theyre all
Six pack girls,
Theyre all six pack girls,
Theyre all six pack girls,
Six pack
So you pick her up,
And you bring her home
You take her out,
And thats all youre alone,
And you want it sure
Enough your, stuck with her theyre all
Six pack girls,
Theyre all six pack girls,
Theyre all six pack girls,
Six pack
song performed by by NOFX

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Li'l Red Riding Hood
[howls]
Who's that I see walkin' in these woods?
Why it's Little Red Ridin' Hood
Hey there Little Red Riding Hood
You sure are lookin' good
You're everything a big bad wolf would want
Listen to me [howl]
Little Red Ridin' Hood
I don't think even big girls should
Go walkin' in these spooky old woods alone
[howls]
What big eyes you have
The kind of eyes that drive wolves mad
So, just to see that you don't get chased
I think I ought to walk with you for a way
What full lips you have
They're sure to lure someone bad
So, untill you get to grandma's place
I think you ought to walk, with me and be safe
I'm gonna keep my sheep suit on
Till I'm sure that you've been shown
That I can be trusted walkin' with you alone
[howls]
Little Red Ridin' Hood
I'd like to hold you if I could
But you might think I'm a big bad wolf, so I won't
[howls]
What a big heart I have
The better to love you with
Little Red Ridin' Hood
Even bad wolves can be good
I'll try to be satisfied
Just to walk close by your side
Maybe you'll see things my way
Before we get to grandma's place
Little Red Ridin' Hood
You sure are lookin' good
You're everything a big bad wolf could want
[howls]
(Baaa)
song performed by by Bowling For Soup

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Spirits are coming to visit
Spirits are coming to visit,
Frog and Bee,
Coyote,
All away from home,
Coming for you,
Coming for healing.
Love is the key.
Eagles,
Dreams of flying
of belonging,
of the search
for legitimization.
Who is different?
Wolf,
pack animal,
highly attuned to belonging.
Lone Wolf,
and the pain of alienation
isolation
loneliness
Alone.
poem by Lewis MehlMadrona

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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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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

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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

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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

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The Land God Forgot
The lonely sunsets flare forlorn
Down valleys dreadly desolate;
The lordly mountains soar in scorn
As still as death, as stern as fate.
The lonely sunsets flame and die;
The giant valleys gulp the night;
The monster mountains scrape the sky,
Where eager stars are diamond-bright.
So gaunt against the gibbous moon,
Piercing the silence velvet-piled,
A lone wolf howls his ancient rune --
The fell arch-spirit of the Wild.
O outcast land! O leper land!
Let the lone wolf-cry all express
The hate insensate of thy hand,
Thy heart's abysmal loneliness.
poem by Robert William Service

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Lone Traveler
Lone howl under the great blue night sky
A pack of wolves running through the forest
Chasing down crying little rabbit looking for a hole
Doesn’t know that every damn hole is full of corns
Lone howl under the great blue night sky
The moon shines like there is no other night
To make the curve she had to follow the relenting howl
As time runs in circle, the night goes faster than before
Lone howl under the great blue night sky
A child walks down the street of the city of angels
Knows no bond to depend on, no rope to hang on
He raised his hand for a dime, he’s only got reservation in heaven
Can you catch the notes floating with the sound
Within the cold air that freezes your bones and brain
With the snow that falls like storm,
And nothing but the white emptiness before your soul
And I’m walking with my bare two feet, listening carefully
To the sound of cars driving on the streets at night
To the sound of babies crying out their heart
To the sound of waves washing the shore, the sound of loneliness
To the sound of traveling stars, the sound of the universe
poem by Alexander Foald

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On The Road
I 's boun' to see my gal to-night--
Oh, lone de way, my dearie!
De moon ain't out, de stars ain't bright--
Oh, lone de way, my dearie!
Dis hoss o' mine is pow'ful slow,
But when I does git to yo' do'
Yo' kiss 'll pay me back, an' mo',
Dough lone de way, my dearie.
De night is skeery-lak an' still--
Oh, lone de way, my dearie!
'Cept fu' dat mou'nful whippo'will--
Oh, lone de way, my dearie!
De way so long wif dis slow pace,
'T 'u'd seem to me lak savin' grace
Ef you was on a nearer place,
Fu' lone de way, my dearie.
I hyeah de hootin' of de owl--
Oh, lone de way, my dearie!
I wish dat watch-dog would n't howl:--
Oh, lone de way, my dearie!
An' evaht'ing, bofe right an' lef',
Seem p'int'ly lak hit put itse'f
In shape to skeer me half to def--
Oh, lone de way, my dearie!
I whistles so's I won't be feared--
Oh lone de way, my dearie!
But anyhow I's kin' o' skeered,
Fu' lone de way, my dearie.
De sky been lookin' mighty glum,
But you kin mek hit lighten some,
Ef you 'll jes' say you's glad I come,
Dough lone de way, my dearie.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar

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