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Best Howl Poems

Below are the all-time best Howl poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of howl poems written by PoetrySoup members

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New Howl Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Howl poems are below this new poems list.

Redemption Howl by Dillenbeck, Gerald
Winds Howl by Smith, Bev
Frozen Howl by mcdaid, liam
Howl Luna by Batson, Shoshana
When The Wolves Howl by Broniszewski, Zach
Howl at the Moon by Kovacs, Rachel
Boy's Howl Tonight by Berdoo, Larry
Hoot and howl by Yassin, Sallam
Heartbroken Howl by OBrien, Kayla
Howl 2012 AG by Flaherty, Christopher

View all new Howl Poems

The Best Howl Poems

Details | Howl Poem | |

Creature In The Night

Where cold stars exist in the dark,
serene winds whisper to trees
and scarce human ears can listen,
lone songs wail in the distance
in frozen moon's silver spotlight,
a mark left where paws had paused.






Written by: Kelly Deschler. January 16th, 2015

Inspired by creature #3 Coyote

nette onclaud's contest - NIGHT CREATURES


This poem was also inspired by actual events. A few weeks ago, I discovered 
some large animal paw prints that were left in the snow, near my home. I later
found out that the tracks were made by a wolf.

More great poems below...


Details | Howl Poem | |

Lost In Love

Holding you inside one fragile beautiful flower blossoming dream
Sweet you are my love painting words breathtaking within all wishes

Silvery streak of moonlight shimmering a star 
only now I read between the lines trailing thoughts 

How can you ask someone to stop loving without care 
an impossible task even for the hardest of hearts  

If I were the last person on this planet sunshine through clouds 
that's how it draws to me you're asking me not to love you 

Misery likes company cuts deeper than a knife wounds beauty
never was the answer to love in our friendships face

Details | Howl Poem | |

the circle of life

A predator among us.
A villian in our midst.
An entity of evil,
Clouding up our wits.
Preying on the innocent.
Devouring the strong.
A sycophant immortal.
Unbound by right and wrong.
White wool adorning
The curves of their form.
Cloven hooves dragging
on the ground with the worms.
No hoofprints behind them.
just the four toed paws
dotted at the tips
by their long and angry claws.
Nature is a cruel being.
Creating monsters in her storms.
No one understands
And everyone is torn.
The prey will always villify
those who are higher than they
on the food chains bottom
the sheep will always stay.
The wolves are meant to feed
without remourse consume
The psyches of the weak
to bring them to their doom.
The sheep will bleat and bellow
in fear of those wolves
And try to justify their blindness
by stamping hard their hooves.
Hiding in the herd,
the prey upon their back
the predators facade
turns their wool to black.
Such is natures way.
No one is at fault.
The circle of life.
The predators of thought.
For who can blame the hungry beast
for eating to survive
When you people create such feasts
And tantalize our eyes.
We can not feel guilty
for gaining our sustenance.
consider this my fealty
for i shall not repent.

Details | Howl Poem | |

Hounds from Hell

Hounds from Hell take their toll on your soul
as you walk the mainstreet of mainstream
and watch Saturn and Neptune dance to a simple tone
of silence in the outer space.
As you sit in the middle of the world
alone;
free yourself from the sense of hopelessness,
only see yourself in the mirror of deception
as your reflection laughs at you and looks right through you,
and doesn't have remorse for what it says or does to you.

Hounds from Hell take your soul,
chock you, cut of your air,
the smog and fog blind you in the city of ash.
Hear the hounds from hell howl for your soul,
go now, barracade your soul behind sins and temptation,
Alone, listening to your soul die away,
watch love go away from you, with suitcase in hand,
picture frames broken and collect dust through the sands of time.
Till the cleaning lady comes on Monday, to clean the mess
that you left behind.
You are gone, without a trace of ever returning.
Looks of the Hounds of Hell came for you and stole you from
comfort and warmth,
till the sorrowed heart cracks and pain spills out
and you look at it all spill out over the floor.
The Hounds from Hell have paid a consumable harmage to you,
and your rich soul of sorrowness burns away... slowly.

Fear darkens souls,
innocent souls burn with a new day,
a slumber that has no end
with nightmares haunting every light of hope
there is left in this desolate Wasteland.
Fear and darkness tears a hole in the darkened universe
and we all go to hell to see the Hounds,
who come for us all.
The graveyards fill,
and death guards the tombstones of the dead,
and the flowers burn away on the feet of the dead.

-10/14/2013-

Details | Howl Poem | |

AlphaBet Constructs 3 2 1

Alphabet Constructs 3 2 1

Annotated Achilles amends fallen frame amputees

Bulimec Barbies browse media monkey banalaties

Cameo clouds cling to beaded breath curios

Dopamine dreams dilenate check cash desires

Echo endorfins eulogize bullet brain excrement

Fecal folly fantasies reveal relevant frivoloties

Gonadial grownups gulp secret scrotal generosities

Helical hemorriods hinder senior stricken hemocraps

Idiotic ideals idioiosyncrate post partem iconoclasts

Jack Jill juxtapositories seek sexestential jouveniers

Kryptic killer kisses ascot arrogant kingdumbs

Liquid lipid loiners fear frontline lucklullibies

Malovent mommies masterbate rich reflective mommocules

Nevertheless nightengales nourich ruby rich noonbeams

Ovulatory occults outsource torrent tofu outrages

Pensive picses picnics lovelorny passions 

Queer quiet quintensials release rancid quotients

Rape ripe residuals nullify nimble reprocussions

Silky seafoam silohouttes fornicate frothy sandlets

Tepid torch trilogies belie beligerent tourniquets

Useless utterences utilize organize orgasmic utopias

Venimous vixens violate cruel.com visions

White willow wombs softly seed hospice hell winds

XY XX xfactors envision extracurricular xraydoms

Yearning yoyo yesterdays calculate clearcovert yeilds

Zen zealous zions mirror maginfy Zoneotones 

More great poems below...


Details | Howl Poem | |

Smitten Kitten

Leapin' lizards up in dem’ gizzards, something we call the creepy crawl. And her womb spew forth blasphemy, and her lips uttered deceit. Black alters in Bone orchards. Praise hell syndicate burn down this town and everyone in it. Red lights…, blood lust. Ambrosia, with her hair so fare.  Clearly obvious why the gods chose her. Devourer of subtleties... Tenderest of vittles. I know at night your bones up and come to life causing mischief. All monkey minds in devil times, chatter chatter, screechhhh... All lost, no hope. And then there was you. Burn down the temple and sing. Eyes bare witness to the rise of her. Dance to the rhythms of a free will symphony. Bleed from thyn eyes,... I don't mind. Bliss bliss and heaven. Your absence is the bane of my existence.

Details | Howl Poem | |

SLEEPLESS



I once had a friend named Mildred

Who wiggled a lot in my bed,

She’d snore with delight

Her growl was a fright;

I rang the alarm clock instead.


--------------
“Without the right sleep, even the gentlest person 
can turn into a crazed beast!”—own quote
--------------
John Freeman’s Dumb and Dumber Personal quotes
5/21/2015

Details | Howl Poem | |

Redemption Howl

Forgive me
for soundly sleeping while you silently weep,
for bold breathing while you belligerently wilt,
for heart beating strong and true
without you and yours,
dust fore-given too freely.

Challenge us
to never swim without you,
to always win to win rich indigenous blues,
love's lusty inclusion,
heroic trust.

Relent me
for needing to win
on backs aching with loss
for balancing harmonic dross
while children drift to sea
sons and daughters without home
except hunger to live free.

Redeem me
with my up-front birth deposit
within a more nurturant wombing sea,
no choice specific to how I might be,
or not become,
a fairly well-fed lottery ticket
avoiding your draft for violence,
ballistic anger,
seasoning sorrow
for a tomorrow without rational hope
of better than today
or last,
with all those wished-for lasts before,
your chronic path through over-populated messages
that black
and brown
and red
and victimed,
and oppressed,
and unhealthy subliminal suppressed lives do not fucking matter,
poverty trends to eat our young
to digest in tumors of rich fat mad deposits
before children can leaven hope to ever fly together
through a deeper embracing ecology.

Know me,
your nature's genetic parasite
afraid of my own absorption
within our regenetic forested wild
while I sleep
to the beat
of a defenseless child
born too soon for time's enrapture,
born without face
that splatters through dull culture's consciousness,
no matter
if some grow fatter
while flowers fade
and next year's seeds cease speaking
within their silo tree,
while others climb her privileged branches
to grow free.

Free me,
from this relentless suboptimizing justice,
for placing lack of empathy
where surplus of antipathy
breathed and smoldered more honestly,
relentlessly burning warrior hearts
in passioned love with eco-we,
reclaiming corporate integrity for ego-me,
free from investing in slow death silence,
quiet laissez-faire mediocrity,
free to live Earth's incubator nest
of webbing life,
time's space to be,
letting go of life alone at sea
to invest in fear of death as we
becoming, reconnecting me 
to echo Earth's harmonic frequency,
to cosmic jazz-dance solar light of free,
with power to feel your beat as me.

Details | Howl Poem | |

Yeh khaalipan


Jab Meri Bechaini Mit Jayegi
Jab Mere Dilko Sukoon Mil Jayega
Yeh Khaalipan Mit Jayega

Do Pal Ki Chandni Ke Liye
Aj Bhi Zinda Hoon Main
Meri Khaamoshi Ke Ageh Aasmaan Bhi Khatam Ho Jayega

Kehne Ke Liye Toh Roz Marta Hoon Main
Thoda Aur Marne Ke Liye
Yeh Deewana Kal Phir Ayega

Details | Howl Poem | |

Generic Oppression Poem

Oppressed by you, your state, your religion
So you think you good, kind and Superior
But I find you  cruel, arrogant and callous
But that is just in my view, what do I know?

You control the language that describes pain
But there is no for me in its grid, or how I feel
My soul is ripped from my body and bound,
On to your machines on which I slave and toil.

You say it has to be this way, no room for doubt
Master and slave, it is only a matter of degrees
But it is my kind that is always tied to the rack
While you sip vintage wine in the lap of luxury.

Everything has its time and its place, yours is over
End is near, for you and everything you hold dear
Everything carries with it the root of its own destruction
And I will rejoice now that your has very nearly come.

Details | Howl Poem | |

Oh no too moppy ahhhhhh

Pop 
hiss
hoot
meow 

pow
whose 
poop

knock knock knock
bang bang
locked
tick tock

whistle
whizz
wheeze
whimsy
wreck

shoot
smash
mish mash
toot

sissy
ring ring

mawl
freeze
hang
shoot

zeees

Details | Howl Poem | |

Goddess Grip

She struts with a strategic lust
punishing hesitation with voluptuous thrust,
invading my chamber of fresh heart and hard part
certain for her meal of tender male from the start,
perfume from waving sea spreading broadly through this fantasy
skin textured fine with urge for pulsing vine, Goddess grins robustly,
she walks in rosebud red
stalks the songs and lips within this throbing head,
the call she croons to with curving tongue
door of desire widens to release a white river upon breasts divinely hung -

J.A.B.

Details | Howl Poem | |

NO ONE KNOWS

Tomorrow is a mystery,
future isn't sure.
Tomorrow is killing me,
victory isn't pure.

Have got so much to give
but don't know what I would get.
Tomorrow has got me pensive,
tomorrow's pregnancy is a threat.

Will tomorrow be bright?
as I sleep and say goodnight?
Will tomorrow shine?
Will it be just fine?

Life is a crazy ride
but still make it a pride.
Live for today and hope for tomorrow
and hopefully meet a day to follow.

*Sammy Kyle*

Details | Howl Poem | |

Nashville, A Dog Gone Hit,

I left my hometown and didn't much look back,
headed southward bound in my Cowboy Cadillac,
arrived at this store to grab me some snacks,
Yea, they're right about this town, of how it really attracks,

Yea, here in the town called Nashville, where the Grand Ole Opry's on TV,
They say it's the real deal, where upcoming singers need to be,
but I don't do much singing, 'cause the hound dogs howl at me,
though I sure hope it's worth bringing, my songs, for some to see,

I've got them on the internet, downloading them is free,
I haven't had any right connections yet, but I'm hoping patiently,
gonna find me country singer, try to pitch them a dog gone hit, 
like pitching a horseshoe ringer, you know you just can't quit,

Yea, here in the town of Nashville, where the Grand Ole Opry's on TV,
they say it's the real deal, where even writers need to be,
no, I don't do much singing, 'cause the hound dogs howl at me,
but I sure hope it's well worth bringing, my songs, for some to see,

Yea, here in the town of Nashville, where the Grand Ole Opry's on TV,
they say it's the real deal, where upcoming singers hope patiently,
Got some songs to pitch the singers, like me, they just can't quit,
like making a horseshoe ringer, knowing one of them could hit,

I've got them at Poetry Soup, where printing them is free,
log on in, enjoy the view, it's finger friendly as can be,
become a welcomed member, without any sort of fee,
no matter what's your gender, or your nationality,

Yea, here in the town of Nashville, where the Grand Ole Opry's on TV,
they say it's the real deal, where upcoming singers need to be,
Gonna find me a country singer, try to pitch them a dog gone hit,
like throwing a horseshoe ringer, knowing you just can't quit,

Yea, I left my hometown and didn't much look back,
headed southward bound in my Cowboy Cadillac,
arrived at this store to grab me some snacks,
Yea, they're right about this town, of how it really attracks.

Details | Howl Poem | |

Bambi and lily

   Who would have guessed/ the love carried for a beagle no less

   Lily howling at the moon/ with ears long as her toes our coon

   she gave birth to Bambi with no tail/ jack a be , 3 yrs later she is ours still

   no describing the love for our girls / dressed in pink shirts and curly frills

   the girls don't like when we leave home / they show us for leaving them alone

   the pillows torn and howling non stop / we love our girly beagles until we drop

Details | Howl Poem | |

Whispering Night

In a strange 
environment under gross 
darkness and whispering 
night,I found myself with 
a companion.
 We walked an endless 
journey across the 
woods..eerie sounds we 
heard,a crack! then the 
undead resurrecting from 
marshes,we ran seeking 
for cover.
  These creatures howled 
as they drew near with 
blood dripped 
mouths,my fear 
deepened,I called out to 
my friend a flesh eater he 
became.
  Under the whispering 
night I stood alone, 
seemed the world stood 
still,as these monsters 
encircled me,I closed my 
eyes wishing I was not 
born.
   Suddenly,a bright light 
shone,dispersed 
darkness,repelled these 
zombies-then eerie noises 
ceased, and the world 
revolved once again. 
  A knock,I realized I 
drifted to sleep as my 
companion entered my 
car.
  We zoomed off towards 
the horizon under the 
bright sky.


Name:ifeanyi B. 
Ekechukwu.
Date:24/10/2013

Details | Howl Poem | |

Two's Magic Nose

Such a nose had Ol’ Blue.
Best in south Missouri... everybody knew.
Could smell a pheasant across the plain.
Could point a covey in a hurricane.
That’s the way the legend goes.
Ol’ Blue had a “magic nose.”
 
As Blue got older, his master’s mind would drift away
To a place where he and young Blue used to play. 
In the mornings, sitting over his coffee cup
He found it sad there were no pups.
He thought it would be such a shame
If the only memory was Ol’ Blue’s name.
 
So, Jim was compelled and full of pride;
He made a search, far and wide,
To find Ol’ Blue a suitable mate.
No doubt, his offspring would be great.
It seemed likely, he supposed,
At least one pup would have his “magic nose.”
 
She was a Champion Miss from New Orleans,
A beautiful “red” named Cajun Queen.
But Blue suddenly passed away, before the pups were born.
Jim was broken hearted.  He and “Queenie” mourned.
Then came the litter, but there was only one.
Jim struggled for hope; after all, he was Ol’ Blue’s son.
 
Dappled and lanky, a handsome little cuss,
He looked just like Blue.  Jim made such a fuss.
Naming this pup would require no ado.
It was obvious.  Officially, he would be “Blue Two.”
Oh yes, these were mighty large tracks to fill.
“Can he?”, folks asked.  Jim would say, “Heck yes he will!”

So his nickname became “Two” and he seemed to be smart.
Soon it was time for his training to start.
The basics went well, but Jim’s outlook grew very dim
When, instead of pointing, Two would wag and jump and bark at him.
Oh, Two seemed to be trying; but try as he might,
He just could not seem to ever get it right.

“Blue’s son or not, he’s got to go!”
Jim found Two a “pet home” far away, in Tupelo.
On his way back, he stopped in Texarkana.
Been too long a time since he’d seen his sister Hannah.
Six days and six pounds later, he was back on his way.
Work at the farm was callin’ and he’d be drivin’ all day.
 
He thought about Ol’ Blue and wondered if and when
He’d ever have a birddog as good as Blue again.
Oh, he knew another “magic nose” was just a far off dream;
After all, it wasn’t something any man could scheme.
A “magic nose” was a gift from God, only given to a few;
And he was proud and very lucky just to have known Ol’ Blue.
 
As he turned into his drive, he broke into a smile.
“Why… I can’t believe it!  It…It must be 300 miles!”
Two was on the porch, thin and dirty; but he struck a handsome pose.
Jim ran and hugged Two hard.  “How’d you get back?  Lord only knows!”
Suddenly Jim realized; and struck with awe, he slowly rose.
A tear trickled to his smile.  “Why Two… you have a “magic nose!”
 
Two and Jim are best of friends, together everywhere.
From milkin’ cows to bedtime, Two is always there.
Jim doesn’t hunt much anymore, now Two’s a rescue dog.
Just last month, he saved a little girl lost in Cooley’s Bog.
Jim struts and tells proud, heroic stories;
While Two wags and jumps and barks, and shares his glory.
 
Jim boasts, “Like father, like son!”, then speaks fondly of Blue;
But all know the largest tracks to fill are those of Two.
His deeds are known far and wide,
And fill Jim’s heart with love and pride.
For with every rescue, the legend grows;
About a dog named Two, and his “magic nose.”

Details | Howl Poem | |

Crossroads

Walking threw the mist of the night,
on the path that lead deep into the forest, in absence of sound;
from one whom was bought, no body shell be found,
of those who might be lost, homeward bound,
as we raven through this hollow ground.

Cross sentences that are incomplete, fractions that make you weak,
threw words that you learned so well, life is a living hell,
don't front and pull back, end of line, number check,
in the story and on track, blank page,
ink intact.

Details | Howl Poem | |

Sandy Hook Elementary Imposter, Fake Father Robbie Parker

* A tale of a charlatan, caught pretending to be a father of a Newton Massacre 
Victim----(feel free to view his hyperbole on Youtube, search Robbie Parker 
Interview)


      This place is not big on naming names, but you sir, are despicable! Usurp 
nightmares of another. Charlatan! How can you do what you do, there, bold 
face lying for world news cameras. You, the very reason mine stomach pit, 
ulcer amore'! Tho' there's no clear understanding for sins you've committed. 
Those children! Where are the tears Robbie Parker? Where are the tears? We 
can't look at you anymore! 
      The epitome of evil approached the podium, unaware we were staring into 
your laughing eyes. Caught red handed, you Superman'd into character. 
Despise, despise! No, I won't pretend like the others that hate is not in my 
heart. You see, minus hate, love remains half mast. I thank you for the 
juxtaposition. Yet, sickening you are. And the truth is out Mr. Parker, you are 
a farce! Now I ask...Where does the misconception end? You mock naysayers, 
label them "Conspiracy Theorists" amongst other choice vulgarities. In return, 
I request answers. Answers to understand where true conspiracy roams, for' 
I'm no dummy little buddy, and I know where there's smoke, fire is nearby. 
Meanwhile, you might want to sharpen your acting skills, for the end is nigh. 
And you Robbie Parker are only a speck of the lie.

You rigged the book on Sandy Hook.

Details | Howl Poem | |

A full moons wrath

The howling of the beast        Sends a chill through all in its wake       It is that time again  
Not a soul can be seen        Under the full moons shining light        Behind locked doors     
Quivering       Wide eyed       Praying to their God         May the beast pass me by         Let 
me live to see         Another full moons shining light

Details | Howl Poem | |

Haiku 83

	
	
	
	Haiku 83
	
	
	silence 
	settles around me 
	like dust 
	
	
	
	
	




Details | Howl Poem | |

The Wolf Within Me

As I look up at the sky I see the moon is high

I feel the wolf deep inside he is trying to come alive

As the pain begins to start It feels as through I am being ripped apart

My joints start to bend and break 

Soon the wolf will be fully awake.....



Details | Howl Poem | |

Famous Nicknames

They nicknamed Doris Day the girl next door
But she never lived next door to me.

Sting is known as sting but isn't a bee.

Davy Jones was known as a monkey
But I never saw him swing through trees.

The called big John Wayne the Duke
But he wasn't born  within aristocracy.

Lana Turner was known as the sweater girl
But I never saw her sweat.

They call the invisible man invisible
But I haven't seen him yet.

Tarzan was known as the king of the jungle
But go tell that to a lion
Your title wouldn't have a lot to rely on.

Jane Mansfield was known as the blonde bomb shell
So get ready to run like hell.

Elvis was known as the pelvis
But there must have been more to him than that.

Bridget Bardot was know as the sex kitten
But wasn't a cat.

James Brown was known as the Godfather but
Didn't join the mob.

Sylvester Stallone Was known as the Italian stallion?.



Peter Dome.copyright.2014. July.



Details | Howl Poem | |

Spiders in the Bath

Now here's a handy little tip I came across by chance,
While visiting the bathroom as a lad home from a dance.
I was a little worse for alcohol, so have to be forgiven,
For the odd thoughts that occur to me when I am cider driven.

I was there to give my teeth a brush and stood in fear of death,
As I had to get some mint on board before mum smelt my breath.
So I loaded up my toothbrush and I’d squeezed a good supply,
When I noticed something moving in the corner of my eye.

Well, I turned around quite slowly just in case it was a mouse.
For I'd seen them in the garden twice, but never in the house.
I was set to do the pouncing stuff, but then was forced to laugh,
As my eyes met two big spiders that were trapped down in the bath.

While I stood and watched their climbing fails I’d built up quite a foam,
And I thought, I shouldn't waste it, I should spit it a new home.
So I climbed up on the bath tub rim and hovered like a dove,
And with those spiders as my targets - I would bomb them from above.

Well, it took so many efforts, I was aiming like a fool,
Which meant I soon ran out of ammo, so I climbed down to refuel.
I then spread my Colgate nice and thick and brushed away for fun,
Till I’d whipped another mouthful, for another bombing run.

And then at last I hit one, on the edge with just some dregs,
And I watched with glazed amazement as it paralysed three legs.
With just five legs to drag himself, he couldn't reach his max,
Then I hit him with a splatter bomb which stopped him in his tracks.

I never thought that tooth paste drips would do them that much harm,
But the effect on those poor spiders was as deadly as Napalm.
The good news is, it sobered me, all that hanging over head,
And my teeth had never been so clean and both of them were dead.

Well this tip that I pass on to you, is bound to come in handy,
Just share it with your family and they'll love it more than candy.
You can save yourself a pile of work, catching bugs for bath release,
It will clear your house of spiders; clean your bath and kiddy's teeth.

Details | Howl Poem | |

A HUMOROUS GROWL

I am getting hungry y’all.
I have no food in the house.
I wonder why I have to order out.
Laugh out Loud
Colloquium

I am getting hungry you all.
I have to order out.
I have no food in my house.
LOL
Acronym

I am hungry y’all.
I have ordered out.
Still no food in my house
Don’t you dare laugh out.
Corrected 
_______________________|
Penned on May 01, 2014!