Best Pack Poems
why bark for oneself
when gullibility rules,
the runt of the cur
rushes to aid one’s master
rogue awaits to shuffle pack.
© Harry J Horsman 2014
Just one pack a day
she says she needs.
Years later - hospitalized with cancer. . .
Just one cigarette -
she pleads
Written 12/17/2015 by Andrea Dietrich
for the SOMETHING WITH GREAT IMPACT!Poetry Contest of nette onclaud
Lurking in the darkest shadows,
she looks for one of us to hound,
trying to catch a little glimpse
as she staggers along and limps
Spittle and drool keeps dripping
from yellow teeth and snarling lips.
She whines and hunches her back
picking out one of us to attack.
Alone because she's made enemies
of those who once pitied her, but
she never let us howl our intentions
and blocked any effort of intervention.
With watchful eyes she tries to be sly
and has an ego that's rude and annoying.
She's always waiting for the chance
to trounce, then do her trophy dance.
She takes swipes and nips at our butts
when she thinks she has the upper hand,
but her whining doesn't matter to us.
Our pack calls her 'the ornery old cuss.'
Let her coo and take those falsetto bows,
and let her think she's a ruling queen,
but we all know she's just a looney hyena
while we laugh at her haughty demeanor.
^. .^
1/31/17
Poetry in an animal's view
contest by Jamie
The restless wolves begin to howl
A rallying call for the hunt
Watching closely, ravens caw
As hungry wolves growl
Then the pack starts off in a trot
As the alpha male leads the lot
The hunt is on, the ravens follow
Hoping for some scraps to swallow
The elks in the distance start to run
But wolves can run all day
A nearby river glistens in the sun
A chance for the elk to swim away
But gray wolves are excellent swimmers too
And they pursue their prey to the other side
The elk, now tired begin to slow
And powerful jaws deliver the death blow
The wolves now feast on their new kill
Supreme hunters of the plains
The ravens too get their fill
As Canis Lupus howls again
3/12/2015
Your dog has an indispensable dispatch,
a critical communique.
Are you listening?
Your dog is howling at sirens,
annoying all your neighbors.
Have you noticed?
Your dog’s evolutionary chain from wolves,
a prescriptive instinct.
Are you appreciating?
Your dog’s howling though, is much more,
the opening of a primordial door,
the call to a roaming distant pack,
a whining ballad to wilder tribe crying back.
Your dog prays to something larger than himself,
and because you are leading the pack,
it includes you.
This then, a necessity to survive.
This then, the most fundamental meaning
of God!
Your dog is howling at sirens.
Listen to your dog!
A PACK OF SMOKES
A LITTLE TOKE
A LOT OF CHOKE
A DEFINITE CROAK
After one beer, I noticed her
When first she did arrive
After two beers, I finally could
Look her in the eye
After three beers, I walked over there
Still feeling a bit too lame
After four beers, I finally
Got the nerve to ask her name
After five beers, I asked her out
With butterflies churning inside
After six beers, I passed right out
Without hearing what she replied
It was a six pack love affair
With a girl outside my league
I needed the amber lubricant
To put the courage inside of me
But being a light weight
I passed out upon the floor
And when I awoke, the love of my life
Had already walked out the door
Oh well, maybe at the next party
Leader Of The Pack
Impossible to lead if you weren't born within a seed.
Some structural integrity, maybe a position indeed?
Did anyone say you were in line?
This is the only way you must travel incline
Question? Have you been a follower before?
Then you'll know this; Face landing at the Exit Door.
Being born to lead many where there is so few,
Your first task should easy if you want to.
Lead On, passed the great white lights
Passed anyone's annoyance or indulging insights.
It's your job to lead barbarically through.
Checkpoint, your goals are posted too.
The program already can be installed on your hand.
All you need to do is yell out a command.
It's End Game lead on and be true,
This is not a test, it's a life meant for you.
I am sneaking
Down a side street
I see trashcans
In a backyard
I walk over
To look in them
Refuse waiting
To be picked up
I am happy
To collect it
Because I am
Just a pack rat
A group of animals very close to a strawberry farm was spotted by a female fairy, one early evening. She was delighted for seeing, hearing six different animals talking to each other again.
The cat said to the leveret, "Meoww..."
The leveret nodded while watching and listening to everybody in the group.
The third animal, a chimp, laughed out loud for showing his new discovery -- a big, orange-colored watermelon.
The fourth animal, a squirrel, was amazed by the strength of the chimpanzee -- clapped and praised the chimp.
The fifth animal, a male woodpecker, telling everyone that he'll always look for food each day for all of them. They only need to help him get the food for them.
The fairy noticed that the sixth animal, a chipmunk, is weeping... the other five animals noticed it too.
The chipmunk was asked by the leveret, "Why are you crying?..."
The chipmunk replied, "We will be scolded again. This is the third time the chimp stole a watermelon from the same old farmer!"
(The fairy knows it's a pumpkin that was brought by the chimp this time, not a watermelon.)
A pack of orcas
hunting together known
as wolves of the sea.
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
Silly smiles drawn
in the sand
finger. prints.
from sea to sun
goofy friend
turns my frown
upside down
a ... dancing ...
clown
Can you say Shakespeare?
~
Daffy me
Oh, queens, aces beside them and kings,
An' all the minions serve them and jacks.
I do not get excited, I don't play w/the things.
A voice – “I'll take all, if you don't object”.
Diamonds, clubs, spades and beautiful hearts –
symbols of sway, eternal suits,
forced to being shuffled by infidel hands –
those fiery came from infernal loots.
And they are choosing the following trumps,
laying above the stifling suffering world
of the rest covered, beaten and slumped,
swinging round an' round in a devilish whirl.
An' the pack is being shuffled by the hands on an' on
'cause of friction they get vile gambling spark.
Devil's laughing at me in his own Babylon,
I'm not in his hands as one petty card.
The eerie shriek of a wild thing,
Into the air does wail and sing.
The great brown moose feasting on the brush,
Sees a pack of wolves coming at a rush,
The leader wolf will slash and slay,
To feed his pack he will do what he may.
The moose bolts and snorts in fear,
The wolves are already too near,
They come with easy flowing stride,
The leader's mate is at his side.
The nostrils of the moose do flex,
His scam of escape the wolf wrecks,
He dashes and slashes with cunning bounds,
And in circles he runs the moose on his rounds.
A young and in the way member,
Does burst out from the timber,
He tries to tear the moose's flank,
But in his skull the splay hoof sank.
A scream of fearfull agony,
The end the young wolf did not see,
He lay in a wreckless heap,
But the seeds of carelessness he did reap.
The leader slashes wide the vein,
That when torn life does not gain,
The moose thrashed with dozens of legs,
His throat torn into rags.
The wolves were crunching,
Leader was munching,
The moose the price did pay,
This is Mother nature's way.
A week later bones are left,
The wolves are a moose's theft,
They rid the moose of his life,
So they may satisfy the hunger piercing like a knife.