A cruel Jack Frost blows icy floss
(in front of spring a’ burstin’)
While swirlin’ sheaves of withered leaves,
near freezin’ streams a’ thirstin’.
A pack reviled is roamin’ wild,
a wakin’ wolf is howlin’,
He scents a lean and lonesome scene,
while on the lurk and prowlin’.
With spangled bolts, white clouds revolt,
and starry skies start closin’;
A wild goose soars beyond death’s doors,
the naked moon sits posin’;
Electric shafts (on fractured rafts)
sail night’s cathedral caldrons -
A frenzied burst, the herd’s dispersed
in random splayed and sprawled runs.
A she-wolf’s eyes with famine cry,
the ancient wolf is bayin’,
With weary back, he’s lost the track,
his bandied legs betrayin’.
The brood’s somewhere in shrouded lair
with she-wolves left to mind ’em -
The wolf, a’ drag with empty swag,
is on his way to find ’em.
The pack rejoins with weary loins,
they sense their days are numbered.
In evening’s night, he’s feeling tight,
with aches and pains encumbered,
And standin’ near, with shaggy ears
(one droopin’ down, hung over),
He’ll set the course with renewed force,
because he’s still the rover.
Soon snow enshrines the timberlines
the bear’s are sleepin’ under,
And young, lupine, they’ll stifle whines,
as gullies fill with thunder;
With echoes in the mouth o’ death,
they bid farewell the lair
While panting puffs o’ crystal breath
float, hanging in the air.
As dusk regains the snow-bound plains,
the sinkin’ sun’s a’ hissin’,
Their path is black (they don’t look back),
the herd’s long gone a’ missin’;
Neath northern lights, with barks and bites,
he keeps ’em all in motion -
The speckled scars of fallin’ stars
betray the night’s emotion.
The sky is blushin’ in the east,
and hollow wind’s are sighin’
While buzzards freeze in gallows trees,
a’ sittin’ still and eyein’.
These ghouls of prey, they’re spooked away,
like tumbleweeds a’ blowin’,
By tilted head, white fangs tipped red,
and warnin’ wail’s a’ growin’.
...... Continued in part 2 ......
First we have the Alphas
They're the ones that lead the pack
When something happens they're the ones that act
That's what alphas do
Next we have to Betas
They're the second in command
Other than the alphas all wolves they can demand
That's what betas do
Third we have the leader pups
They take over for their parents if anything happened
And the pack lines tehy extend
That's what the leader pups do
Last we have other pack members
They take the jobs that the leaders don't
They take jobs like babysitter that other's won't
That's what members do
Wolf packs can have many members
They are usually all friends
All taking care of each other
Because that's what wolf packs do
...... Part 3 ......
The old wolf creeps, the old wolf leaps
on prey he’s been a’ trackin’ -
A deer adorned with branchin’ horns
is torn by beasts attackin’.
The morning quakes, a shadow shakes,
some antlers left a’ lyin’,
And spattered spots and scarlet clots
repaint the point o’ dyin’.
A magpie flies with frightened eyes
(on ebon wings a’ wavin’),
Spies wolfin’ jaws and sated maws
of wolves no longer cravin’.
The snowdrift clears, a cool wind veers,
a dying breath, moreover -
A wraith appears, with shaggy ears,
(one droopin’ down, hung over).
Dawn’s sunbeams crowd and streak a cloud,
(its threaded strands are weavin’).
The pack awakes and twists and shakes,
for soon it’s time for leavin’;
It’s cold and chill on shallow hill,
the she-wolf comes a’ nuzzlin’,
The sky is shrill, the wolf is still,
the pack stands back a’ puzzlin’.
On crimson snows neath perchin’ crows,
the pack, it stays a’ guardin’,
The nights are tight with Harpy kites,
the she-wolves wait an’ harden,
Until a groanin’ blizzard stones
the barren forest ..., stowin’
The shaggy ears, beside a weir,
neath icy hails ’a blowin’.
The storm abates and terminates,
the glacial wind’s subsidin’;
The past is past or passin’ fast
and life goes on abidin’.
The herd, today, is far away,
not thinkin’ of the dyin’;
The pack’ll stray from day to day,
’a stalkin’ hard and tryin’.
As spring sneaks forth upon the north,
They’re lean without a leader.
The she-wolf (bound with belly round)
strains neath a budding cedar.
Upon the morn a whelp is born,
who’ll soon be takin’ over
Unchained frontiers ..., with shaggy ears,
(one droopin’ down, hung over).
with cat-like slit eyes
lurking near the hen house. . . .
catch a sound in the bushes. . . .
hens can rest easy
a small rat scurries
with that vixen in pursuit . . .
it’s fast-food tonight
song of the desert -
long howls declare “I am here”. . . .
mice and rabbits hide
barking dogs in threes
unlucky mice collected. . . .
live practice for cubs
yippy yippy yip
heard among those happy cubs. . .
the pack starts its hunt
mountains rise up before them. . .
thirty miles to go
in dark night - dog fight
one alone - tail stands erect. . . .
yellow eyes back off
wolf faces grinning
twenty pounds of meat for each. . . .
like one hundred burgers
For PD's Inner Animal Contest:
for fox, coyote, wolf haiku
"It's finally arrived," he thought relaxed by his campfire.
He waited all his life for this day. The day he would retire,
and after saying his good byes to all that he loved
he ventured deep into the wilderness, where clouds hug mountain tops above.
It's been days now perhaps weeks since he last saw society.
He was now one with himself and with nature, liberated and free.
No sooner had he had these thoughts ever so serene
did he find himself looking eye to eye at a huge grizzly.
The beast was only about 15 feet away.
It's pointless to run now, you'll only trigger the bear's predatory state
and there isn't anywhere to run to anyway.
He couldn't help but think to himself, "This may be my very last day."
The words of an old friend flashed through his mind
who was very knowledgeable about behavior of the grizzly bear kind.
'You must not only not display any fear on the outside of you
you must truly be fearless all within you too.
You can display the world's greatest poker face
but if inside you fear for your life, you will lose this deadly game and race.
The bear can smell fear as well as aggression.
If the bear smells either on you, you then become prey or enemy to them."
The bear's massive head began to sink down low.
That's an aggressive stance in case you didn't know,
then the bear raised it's head and sniffed all around the air.
The bear grunted somewhat,
turned and displayed its back
then walked off into the forest as it slowly disappeared.
He stood there still motionless as the bear disappeared before his eyes.
He then proceeded to throw up and faint nearly missing the campfire.
When he'd awaken the next day to the morning birds sweet song,
It would be his new birthday. The Wolf Man is born.
While unconscious, the local wolf pack emerged and surrounded him.
When he awakens the next morning, The Wolf Man Legend begins.
To Be Continued.
Now, he is one with the pack
and they're always on the attack
The scent of prey is in the air
Enemies of the pack, beware!
They hunt under the pale moonlight
The wolf man leads them in the night
Thus the wolf man became notorious
The pack's exploits so glorious
Ravaging every town that doesn't submit
Taking all they can, and lives of those unfit
and no one ever dared to cross their path
and incite their awesome wrath
But then, one night, a mob, in rage
Scoured the woods, wanting the wolf man erased
The pack will fight for him until the end
Their loyalty to him cannot be bent
So they fought, a losing battle, though
One by one they fell, turned cold as snow
The wolf man despaired, but still they fought on
His pack stands united, their faith unflawed
Their numbers dwindled, the mob pushed them deep
"Is this the end?" The wolf man asks while he weeps
The pack tells him to run, run to save himself
Without question he runs, looking back to them as they fell
But he is still hunted, and can't find refuge
A different place, but in there, someone still pursues
Another mob, with desire to slay
Nothing more to keep them at bay
Mortally wounded, he cowers and runs away
Was the pack's sacrifice made in vain?
--------a decent fella.
Come, hang under the umbrella
-------------of this personal Rocafella.
-------------Life as I see it, I Am a Poet
In response to Linda Marie-Bariana who tagged me for this I Am A Poet game..
I now tag Carolyn Devonshire to continue this game... Remember, you must end your
poem with the words "I am a poet"
On a make shift lounge in the wilderness he lay.
He knew he was dying and sensed this was his final day.
Atop of this mountain is where he wanted to be
so he could have one last look at God's wondrous scenery.
The local wolf pack emerged out of the brush and surrounded him.
He smiled as they all gazed. He found their prescence comforting.
The alpha male approached him with a pheasant locked in it's jaw
and dropped it on his lap but he could eat no more.
He pushed the dead bird off on to the ground.
The alpha male began to make a whimpering sound.
With what little strength he had left, he pet the wolf's head and said good bye.
When his lifeless hand fell, the alpha male howled as the pack joined him in his cry.
The wolf pack was in mourning. Their Wolf Man had died.
The Fox 1
Crab holes on the bank….
Furry trap inserted in ,
Wonder blunder ends.
The Fox 2
Thick bushes distant….
Fox nose moves among the twigs to
Get a prey vanquished.
The Fox 3
The fox howls at night….
Trumpet of win over
A dewy-eyed rabbit.
The Wolf 1
Lamb in the pasture….
From the darkness of forest
Death jumps upon fast.
The Wolf 2
Wood smiles in full moon….
Wolf eyes glare among foliage,
Savage beauty lures.
The Wolf 3
Marauding wolf steps….
The soul dances wildly, and
Brute taste oozes out.
The Coyote 1
The distant coyote….
Pointed ears and sharp claws are
Coming to the end.
The Coyote 2
The coyote walks alone….
Seclusion of the woods, but
Evaded though followed.
The Coyote 3
Night howl pierces spring….
Ecstatic movements on hush,
The coyote mounts high.
(For ‘My Inner Animal Contest’ by P. D.)
FABIYAS M V
Sly slits yellow scare.
Fox dances in silver rain--
a rabbit hops by.
Fox at night on prowl,
Scurrying animals go hide.
Moon played a traitor.
Tails are up in air.
Fox tail red, a squirrel's too--
but for their two hearts.
Gray wolves run through snow,
Homeless wanderers in cold.
Winter chill deepens.
Freshly ploughed furrows.
Wolf footmarks follow a hare's--
melon patch, both hunt.
A furry hare sits crouching
underneath a thorny bush.
Thorns, wolf does not eat.
Broken silent night.
Coyotes forage in the bin--
eyes shine, tin glitters.
Longing eyes in rain
look at the sky,
Waiting for stars to fall.
Dusk silently falls.
Coyotes howling at the moon--
piercing night, a song.
7th place in the contest
For ¥ Destroyer ¥ Poet's : "P.D's Inner Annimal" contest