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Best Howl Poems

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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 | |

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 | |

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 | |

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 | |

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 | |

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 | |

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 | |

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 | |

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 | |

The kings of the night

The seemingly tranquil sky
blooming with stars soon
pierced by a distant cry
that seems to swoon.

Beneath dense trees standing tall
to touch dark canvas painted
after dusk, prowls the epiphany of all
mother nature’s tainted.

The wise are often alone
and the dangerous hated, 
but they express in moan
their solitude, once more grated.

Gradually their voices unite
in a song across the valley, 
seeming to smite
all of innocence’s nest.

The moon in her splendour moves
to comfort the carnivores that commence, 
and yet her beam soothes
not the beasts’ sense.

Torn between wrong and right
the moon spreads her swanlike wings amidst
the howls of her lovers, the kings of the night…
among the wolves in the mist. 

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 | |

Yellow Moon

She watched as the earth fell asleep

Waited for the yellow moon

soft kisses of unfaithful wind..

Images..Images on her head

Nostalgic memory of a forgotten love

Flashes of things she tried to forget..

Her eyes caught the reflection of the moon

locked inside the rain on her cheek..

She was standing alone..

Her grieving heart sought

solace from the moon

She petitioned the stars

Where is he this very night?

Cruel..oh so cruel..

Beneath the silence of the sky

she bowed her head and cried..

Details | Howl Poem | |

my goal

                            whenever i close my eyes and brood 
                                      i hear a howl and a roar 
                                               in my soul 
                         a howl and a roar that blast me harmfully 
                                    for not achieving my goal  
                       i demand to execute  my heavenly  wants
                             to cease the thing am here for .

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 

Details | Howl Poem | |

Full Moon's End

Sick of the monsters
that track my steps,

given the chance I'd
lay them to rest.
Following my
thoughts,
they trail my every
move.
Gotta lose 'em
before the moon
sets.
Grab my carving set
and begin to think
violently.
Grabbing their
attention- I get the
upper hand.
Stabbing through
their frail skin, 
I find the image of
blood in and on my
hands,
Cross-eyed and close
to the cliffs edge.
The moonlight sheds
time on the
monster's young
mind, 
and i drop my knife.
For they are me, I
was them, and soon
we will be together
again.
Looking back it was
a full moon's end.

Details | Howl Poem | |

Flat Canvas

Flat canvas;

Bubbling brown ridges strike 
The confining dimensions in a hostile yawn: 
Upwards, Outwards.

Walk the world no longer, an ending beckons, 
A precipice builds moments where swallows wager wings 
On new seed: New breeds.
Falling buys the assurance of seconds
From a sinking well. 
Oh well.

Remember us when the globe begins to slip,
Bang drums for our pity:
Our crescendos mean less than meaningless.
And then, when spheres crack, continue 
On the whorl of a thumb, 
Stretching hope to nothing.
Run.

Details | Howl Poem | |

Gun Shot Alligators

gun shot alligators

scrambling fall dissolve slo-mo into mosaic pieces scraped together of the fishwife’s sawdust floor
sipping red neon earth quaked insecurity shakes when’ll the next run’s steed come forth
till I happily forge a carthaginian peace with the muses’ universal militia fragmented ragtag band playing on some dead main street candy striped phonograph
gun shot alligators eating my holy corduroy’s

after blending juices in backdoor cabooses track far and wide
I still got sex not sure I’d bet on it if a den of
erotica showed up in the night

acceptance my lord- else be carved up left for dead
at the hands of a hatchet wielding prideful dormouse licking champagne from  silver laces of some battered systematic boot

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!

Details | Howl Poem | |

PACU

PACU
Have you heard about the Pacu
A South American fish
With molars like a human
With which they like to squish
Tree nuts in the water
When they find this tasty dish

But lately local swimmers
While swimming in the buff
Have encountered this same Pacu
With their tree nut looking stuff
And I’m told that once encountered
Once encountered is enough

So if swimming in the river
In just your birthday suit
You’d best avoid the tree line
Where you see its floating fruit
Or you risk the bite of Pacu
You can bet your sweet patoot

Uncle Mike

Details | Howl Poem | |

9-11 HALLOWEEN

Mist, Mist..
Why not whisper, why not speak?
When upon thy shrouded depths,
Thou knowest truly, what we seek

Darkness, Darkness
Why be quiet, why not be shrill?
When your hoot and squeal and growls,
Shivers our spine, with unbidden thrill

Cat, Cat
Why be fair, why not be black?
Then your hackles and caterwauling,
Sends us scurrying, to home be back.

Hag, Hag
Why be frail, where is your broom?
When your ire and witchy hex,
For wayward kids, spells dreadful doom.

Road, Road
Why be lively, why not be lone?
Your dark stretch once cast shadows,
Dancing wickedly, with the wind’s soft moan.

Moon, Moon
Why be normal, why be so pale?
When it’s your ghostly light and full visage
That sends the night, to howl and wail.

Trees, Trees
Why be silent, why won’t you creak?
The touch of your twisting limbs,
Will send us running, though knees be weak.

Bat, Bat
Why in flight do you shy away?
When your flap and eerie screeches,
Bolts us upright, from where we lay.

Statues, Statues
Why be still, why don’t you blink?
When your lifelike and weird stare,
To morbid fright, makes us sink.

Where has thrill, and childhood fear went?
The dread craved, without any harm meant,

Remembering…    
The simple fire lit stories, From whence one conjured,
The demons of the night,
Feeding eerie appetites.

For now this world, has darkened indeed,
With the very evil, that is man’s own deed.
With horrific crimes, atrocious and vile
In contrast makes sweet, the bitterest bile.

Woe for ‘tis sanctified no more, the domain of life,
Taken cold blooded with nary, a conscience’s strife.
Children though chaste, with this horror not spared,
Man’s grimmest side, to dire fullness bared.

The great divide, between men and monster,
In these darkest of times, exists no longer.

That is why…
My mind whispers and hoots and growls,
Caterwauls and moans and howl and wail,
Hexes and shies and stares and blinks and sinks... 
Down, down, down.

For I pity this frail humanity, 
In its sad, sad, sorry plight,
That ponders why innocence has gone,
From scare’s warm embrace, 
To TERROR'S cold arms.

- Originally posted as TERROR TERROR. 

Copyright by the Olongapoet,
George Daniel Anos Oct. 12, 2008

Details | Howl Poem | |

Howl the Moon

So like our two footed selves moving toward extinction.
Ranging far and wide, loving, killing, birthing
With a familial loyalty to be admired,
paired for life and wise in the ways of nature.

Ranging far and wide, loving, killing, birthing. 
The moons rise pulls song from their throats
paired for life and wise in the ways of nature
the mountains ring with your calls…….

The moons rise pulls song from their throats.
Fear of the unknown labeled in fairy tales,
the mountains ring with your calls. 
Your sharp fangs peek from behind a knowing smile

Fear of the unknown labeled in fairy tales
your deep dark liquid eyes penetrate.
Your sharp pointed fangs peek from behind a knowing smile.
Soon man will be the only wolf prowling the land.

Your deep dark liquid eyes penetrate.
Two million once roamed, two hundred thousand survive.
Soon man will be the only wolf prowling the land.
Weep, weep, oh weep for the wild wolf, howl the moon.

Two million once roamed, two hundred thousand survive
with a familial loyalty to be admired.
Weep, weep, oh weep for the wild wolf, howl the moon.
So like our two footed selves moving toward extinction.

*dedicated to my spirit gaurdian long may they roam