Best Werewolf Poems
Thick, black clouds gathered overhead,
veiling the moonlight with guise dread.
Wind weaves with howls, and spies embed
a gaunt hollow man in its stead,
lifting his black mound shroud a ted,
refusing to release its dead.
Strain, he stands searchingly ahead;
pain screams rip from his throat and bled.
A stir in the air dares to sped
on as he falls to his knees unfed.
10/11/2017
Werewolf
Ravage with me
Lady Dark Panthera claws of red
And thrash against a starving mouth
Eaten by tongues and lips
Devouring inside surrender
Rip upon my skin those tender ache
And push your want to digging nails
Which renders you helpless
Resuscitate your kiss to mine
And strip past your urging
Tribal heat
Throat guttural whisper my name
Starve me stretched to your nakedness
So I may hunger more
Rhythmical impetuous cause
The night hears your cries
Pinned to the moons cool wall
Vampire at you neck Lady Dark
Pulls at your flowing red
To a ravenous climax
Soaking wet upon my knees
I emerge from a tidal bliss
The slow trickle line of sweat traces down my back
Full moon temptress
Wild were-women roaming in the hills, cliff dwellers around
Avoiding banshee ghost riders, sniffing for them in earthy ground.
Shushing there were-pups lest their hidden unnatural selves be found.
Banshee ghost riders suddenly shush, listening to a baby were-wolf sound.
Heading toward a large crevice, which leads to a cave way down underground,
Were-women seal it up quickly after each banshee rider had ridden way down.
An instant banshee ghost rider graveyard, and these riders are never again found.
The prediction of the night hawks to whom the were-women were forever bound.
Is that when it comes to banshee ghost riders, and were-women, the cagiest are easily found.
And if there are caverns and cliffs that are the least big scary in or near your mountain town,
You had better stay safe in your bed, with the blankets pulled up, safe, and cozy and sound.
As wild were-women are more devious and dangerous than were-wolves, and totally honor bound.
They can also throw their voices, many hundreds of kilometers, and imitate a baby were-wolf sound.
Which is how they tricked the ghostly banshee riders, who are now trying to breathe in vain, underground.
And if you do not believe me, or you think you will survive it, you are the bravest man in town.
But if you choose to hunt for this kind of trouble, stand ready to never ever be found.
There is a were-woman right now peeking in your window; you would do best to not make a sound.
For if she notices you, and comes through that window, you will soon be lying underground.
The aged gypsy woman speaks,
A curses ancient spell, a dark ruins incantation,
From ages long ago,
Beneath the full moons illumination, a single red
Drop of human blood is spilt,
Upon the blossoming wolf bang, turning
It velvet shin to redden crimson.
Cruelties hatred and malice, has created
A beast that travels by night alone, underneath tragedies
Fallen sunrise this emotionally crippled animal
Pleads for mercy’s redemption, but it is the shunned
A banished unwanted thing of hell's domesticated
Breed!
Born with the devils marking, his birth right of the
Demonic plague, justifying torturers agonizing
Punishment making it a serial killer by moonlights
Entrapment!
Accursed is he from father to son, until the final seed
Has been made undone, for only the fresh bite of loves
Promised sacrifice, can release him from this fatal curse!
A whispers echoing, is carried upon the night winds
Screaming breathe, run son of the damned, never linger
Too long in this world of man, seek the sheltering shadows
Live by thy own basic instincts of survival, for nothing
Can save your forsaken soul!
Never to love, or be loved in return, for the claws of
Retraction will be the rippling at the throat of loves
Betrayal!
What a blood baths banquet to be served at your bridal
Celebration, the leavening of the intended served on the
Silver platter of regrets feasting table of remorse, beneath
The blackened chapel of the devil’s own kindred!
Within the castle walls that bleed, in the dungeons
Of sorrows cage, the beast of the fields howls at
The elliptical giant above, for it has killed its own
True love, and relished within the murdering!
As the gypsy's woman’s laughter, heckles at him,
The moonlight streams through his cells prison,
Enough you old hag, I’ve had enough,
Begging the jailer, to end his torment,
The man shape shifter, becomes the night stalker,
One single silver shot is fired, leaving
Nothing behind but smokes illusion,
And a hushed whispering of thankfulness,
Is the reprieve of generations of the unborn!
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
I think my brother’s a werewolf!
It’s hard to believe but so true!
At dusk he is like a great beast!
He’s hairy and scary; bearded too!
He’s never around in the daytime.
He sneaks out with a creepy girl.
I have a feeling that someday,
she’ll eat his gross flesh... and then hurl!
I see red bumps on his forehead
that count the days ‘till a full moon.
I sure hope he’s not contagious!
Or I’ll be a werewolf quite soon!
Scratching his head doing homework!
Wetting his bed while he’s asleep!
These are just a few of the signs
proving that he’s a monstrous creep!
I went to my mother and told her
about my brother superbly.
Then she giggled and simply said,
“Dear, he’s going through puberty!”
I am the werewolf
I howl at the moon
And it smiles at me
CALL OF THE WEREWOLF
Beneath the cobble stones as Paris sleeps
the dead awaken rising from the dust,
into a world where no one ever keeps
the track of time, and rise again they must.
extracted from the ashes of the dead,
they search for innocents they might find near,
they'd sing a song, but howl the howl instead,
forgetting time and what has brought them here.
the innocents they find complete their quest,
those children of the night who lose their way,
forgotten from all time, they take their rest
too deep in night, too far from light of day.
Not fearing death, they lose their way to night,
and near the Seine, the werewolf sees it all,
from darkest dark, and far from any light
another innocent has heard the call.
© Ron Wilson Arbuthnot
aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet
At each full moon,
I will soon be
A lunatic.
Covered in hair,
If you dare look,
I bare my teeth.
And on the prowl,
Hear me howling,
So foul to meet.
Jack horne for nette’s than bauk twilight
I was bitten by a Werewolf and now I'm undead.
I was a mortal man but now I'm immortal instead.
I'm responsible for many deaths because I'm a Wolfman.
Many people have tried to kill me but they never can.
They never use silver bullets when they fire their guns.
People can never escape even though they try to run.
When I change back to human, I'm covered in blood and gore.
I want somebody to use a silver bullet, I can't take it anymore.
I can see that the moon is full tonight as I look up at the sky.
I'm about to become the Wolfman and more people will die.
Unless somebody does what is needed, things will get worse.
Somebody must use a silver bullet and end this horrible curse.
The howl escapes me,
I cannot help it;
an ululation heralds my arrival.
I am commanded.
Something has slept
but wakes now, is loosed,
something primal, instinct
given licence to devour.
She drives my sweet new youth,
my keen eyes, my potent musculature,
the urgent hormones
that set my new agenda.
She directs, she is
my dominatrix;
her whiteness
is fire in my veins.
Feelings unfurl from within
like a flag declaring dominance.
Hair bristles, bones crack,
she ordains my morphology.
And I am thirsty, and so hungry
to sate this new appetite,
to experience, to touch, to infect.
I change irrevocably. I am Alpha.
I come up behind you
from the shadows,
laying my left claw
across your stomach,
the very tips
barely breaking the skin
and you gasp
as I slide
the backside of my right
down your cheek,
placing my lips
against
the back edge of your ear,
running my tongue,
delicately
down the back of it
sending a tremor
through your body.
I nip
the top of your ear
between two of my canines
hardly drawing any blood
and you flinch
into me,
pressing yourself
so tightly into my embrace
that we feel as one.
I coil my fingers
around your lower jaw
and turn your chin
away from me,
exposing
the tender skin of your neck
to my personal whims.
As I graze your moon white skin
with my fangs
you release a whimper
that sends chills
down my spine,
almost turning my knees
to water.
Sliding my left paw
down your right hip
and thigh
slowly,
my other
gripping the back of your neck
I spin you to the ground
beneath me,
press my lips to yours
softly at first
then almost viciously
as you begin to hunger
for the taste of me.
You bite my lip
splitting it
then suck on it
pulling my blood from it
and as our tongues
dance together
my mind drifts
in the euphoria
that oozes off of you
soaking into my pores.
Pushing me up
you cut into my chest
with a spike tipped finger
then sink your fangs into the wound
and begin to drink.
Throwing back my head
I savagely howl
from the pure ecstasy of it all,
shaking the very ground
we lay upon,
vibrating the moon.
You stop for a breath
and I snap my jaws
into your flesh
beginning my own feast,
biting into thigh,
hip,
belly,
breast,
and I work my way,
back down
to your inner thigh.
You tangle your claws
in my hair,
holding my head in place
and scream,
splitting the heavens.
Werewolf I hear
It is something to fear
But let it be clear
What about it people fear
Is it teeth not serrated like a shark
But able to find their mark
Is it because it comes out at dark
Is it difference between man and tree bark
Werewolf can smell
All of those one would tell
But one thing most of all
Inspires awe in my soul
It is the fearsome eye
That looks to the sky
And that which behind that eye
In werewolf’s case will lie
The vision of truly abstract
Mind that can in fact
Ponder things from nothing at all
That is what puts awe in my soul
The werewolf hunter came to town to help the people fight
The moon was getting larger and would soon be full and bright
Those vicious hairy beasts would savage townsfolk all night long
But now they’ll find they’re up against a man who’s sure and strong
The werewolf hunter went to work and got himself an aide
He gave the man one thing to do and said, “You’ll be well paid.”
The aide was known to local people as ‘Come-Again Ben’
His hearing wasn’t great but he worked cheaper than most men
So, by and by, the moon was full; the howls that night were loud
The werewolf hunter stood before the chapel, tall and proud
He needed, then ‘Come-Again Ben’ to fetch what he required
But one Chrome-plated chicken meant his aide was promptly fired
The werewolves formed a circle and they found themselves a kill
The werewolf hunter and his aide were feeling rather ill
And then the moon shone brighter and as though of one shared thought
The werewolves bared their teeth and claws and launched their crazed assault
***
The werewolf hunter laid there, he was very close to death
His aide was also dying so each spoke with his last breath
The werewolf hunter garbled… “Just one tiny silver bullet?”
His aide said, “Sorry, Boss… I thought you said a silver pullet.”
1/19/23
Getting through endeavors
Doing better
More focus on what is important instead of only pursuing pleasure
Even though ladies never give me the time of day
Like animals, I'm a stray
Just could not find my way
Deep down quite okay
I tell the truth, so it won't always be nice things I say
So much wrong in the world, no person should have been treated like a slave
Still today too many lives at stake
Jeopardizing people acting nice then snake
Regardless if they're asleep or wide awake
It's continuous occurring on since before the iron age
Is there any way to make the cycle change?
I have tried
24/7 at times
Took one step then hit landmines
Followed by a swarm of sand flies
I thought my heart had died
Because I flatlined
Now I just want love no bad vibes
It's what I always wanted, but I know that it's about damn time
If you let it too much toxic stuff can slide
I apologize if my mind is a bit hazy
Life get's crazy
I'm starting to like this lady
She thinks I'm similar to Slim Shady
Of our origin we still can't find a trace
Wake up we don't truly know if we evolved from primates
All these swines and fakes
These schmucks keep secrets and humans in a confined space
Had nothing to lose, then it turned high stakes
For too long was not in a nice place
Now got a better mind state
I still overdrink, and don't always hydrate
Like wild animals, I need to migrate
Much to achieve, so why wait?
Worldwide not just across five states
All this senseless violence and blind hate
I have improved
Back in the groove
Not the same old outlook and attitude
Working on making less bad moves
Despite being a lonely sad dude
I know that there is so much that I can do
And that that's true
A lot of bad luck
Instead of not giving a damn
In order to get through all the sad stuff
I had to become smarter work harder and man up
Making a splish splash
During the daylight or when it was pitch black
Often I'd give back
Having a profound impact
Occasionally I'll pop a tic-tac
Fiddle with knick-knacks
While at times in life it can get whack
Occasionally coming with whiplash
These clowns sweeter than a Kit-Kat
In a world full of endless chit-chat
Always over this and that
Despite speaking on it like it's a fact
When sinister clouds pass over the moon and the night
is still with nary a breeze, lurking in the underworld,
hidden in the shadows there comes an evil
that puts fear into every living soul.
A man by day and a beast by night, this presence
hides in the fog of a London lane, crouching and
waiting for his victim to step into the yellow
glow of the streetlamp - a young beauty with skin
of milky white and lips of the reddest rose..
He springs into the air and before she has a
chance to scream, places hairy hands over
ruby lips and around her throat and she
is dragged away into the bushes as a silent
scream goes unheard. When the sun rises,
there will be nothing except a man crawling
in the dampness of a new morning, fighting the demons
in a head that can not explain what he did
or how he got there..