It was a memorable evening, bright
with my beautiful, charming fiancé
(once my wretched, tormented heart's delight)
near the old village of Fatheringay.
Drawn by the lilt of a whispery voice,
we found ourselves in a dark, rustic pub.
An inner misgiving questioned our choice.
A man served drinks from a hook on a stub.
After imbibing a strange, bubbling brew,
we dawdled the full moon-lit countryside.
In the lunar light, her eyes shone light blue -
mine, a phosphorus glow, like Mr. Hyde.
We gazed at the Hydra constellation,
where the Ghost of Jupiter nebula
somehow unfastened my reservation,
as its image fell on my retina.
That my grandfather was a lycanthrope,
and a mad cascade of serpentine thoughts,
this myriad of disclosures doused hope
(a demented disconnection of dots).
The vile dreams would slither back to their hole
too late for my near bride of eighteen.
The strong brew's effects had taken their toll.
My love was never again to be seen.
No, my true love was no more to be seen.
If I was going to design my own society, I would have to take into account
The fact that I have always dreamed of a society that was lycanthropic.
Which means we would be humans by day, and freedom flying happy werewolves by night.
Loyal carnivores, who take care of our young, athletic, and amazingly psychotic.
I have always liked the idea of having a fluffy tail, and a wooded home.
And I enjoy the idea of running amok over bogs, meadows, woods, and briars,
But I also enjoy having human paws small enough to type up a lycanthropic poem.
And the pyromaniac part of my self could not give up my beautiful bonfires.
During the day, we would enjoy our human bodies, wearing our hair in different colors.
But this new civilization will be as ruthless as it needs to be at night, fully dope.
In both bodies, we will retain our families – our brothers, sisters, fathers and mothers.
The most exciting part of my plan, is that we can eventually choose to always be a furry canthrope.
Lycanthrope: a werewolf
Lycanthropy: the power of a human to turn into a wolf
Lycanthropic: A lycanthropic event
It was long gone midnight, and nervously I walked
There was something in the bushes, I was being stalked.
I could smell it's fetid breath, It was lurking in the dark
It scared me half to death as I hurried through the park.
My step quickened, my nerves could barely cope
For above my head the moon was full, the night of the lycanthrope.
Now my heart was racing, I began to flee
I could hear the slavering beast, and it was coming after me.
I was nearly at the gate much to my relief,
Thinking I was safe, that's when I felt its teeth.
It was ripping at my skin, tearing me to shreds
There I lay bleeding, amongst the flower beds.
It fixed me a stare, through furious blood red eyes
It left, I lay savaged, as daylight filled the sky.
I staggered home wounded to the safety of my room,
I couldn't know how things would change, come the next full moon.
Weeks later it was dark, the moon was full and bright
I was going nowhere, I'd stay in tonight.
Then I heard a noise, so guttural, so foul,
Horrified, I couldn't stop myself, I began to howl!
Entry for
Scary or Spooky poem Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Tania Kitchin
19/9/18. Placed 1st.
are you a werewolf
the maiden asked
we prefer
lycanthrope
he replied
hmm
that´s a
fancy word
from one
with such
hairy hands
she thought
but wisely
didn´t say
Silent pulses of Krileanine’s Pentagram
Lure the young men of the hamlet Lönam
Oh how she sains them with The Heptagram
Curiosity killed the cat
And made the Nightbeast
Darkly, she commenced the ancient rite
Performing in her Sluttish ways
She’s preparing for the Full-moon Night
Scream!
Lycanthrope Lover
Her host’s fangs
Will pierce every innocent
"Submit to my will
You carrion ghoul
Welcome to my Esoteric Hell"
Scream!
Lycanthrope Lover
Whore of everything unholy
You must Fear the Coming
Of Muspelheim, Cassandra
I can hear the forest breathing,
As I traverse the darkened wood.
I can feel a heartbeat heaving,
As only Mother Nature’s could.
The night is intoxicating,
And I feel the hunger burning.
For many weeks, it’s been waiting,
My lust for prey, ever yearning.
The full moon rises in the sky,
Shining on a field of clover.
I feel my humanity die,
The bloodlust has taken over.
Ahead, my human prey awaits,
Within the city before me.
Unaware of approaching fate,
Or the beastly curse that bore me.
From the window of her bedroom,
I see her wake, consumed with dread.
With monsters peering through the gloom,
She pulls the sheets over her head.
But a blanket can’t protect her,
From the hunger that burns in me.
I’m not some make believe spectre,
Or a creature of fantasy.
It is time for the cursed to feed,
To, once more, taste innocent flesh.
I must make haste, and quell my need,
While blood flows, and the meat is fresh.
Beware to those of tender age,
Should our paths cross -- abandon hope.
For when I'm filled with full moon's rage,
That's when you'll meet the lycanthrope.
When the moon is full
I show a certain inclination
It’s way worse than PMS
A truly hairy situation
My fur’s soft as silk
I get a bit hirsute
Me and others of my ilk
Are in wolfish pursuit
Ahh – Oooooh – Werewoman of Brooklyn
I’m a lady lycanthrope
But I’ll rip out your throat
Ah – Oooooh – Werewoman of Brooklyn
I’ll fulfill your dreams
If you don’t mind a few screams
It’s true I’ll tear you up
If you dare cross me
An alpha female
Ain’t no one can boss me
Me and my weregirls
Hang out at Brighton Beach
Go moonbathing at midnight
Attack anyone within reach
Ahh – Ooooooh – Werewomen of Brooklyn
From Flatbush to Cozine
Prospect Heights to Fort Greene
Ahh – Ooooooh – Werewoman of Brooklyn
Yeah, we’re representin’
No intention of repentin’
I have a special someone
My friends say it’ll never work
I should stick to my own kind
And while I know I really oughta
She’s Dracula’s daughter
Her love bites are so fine!
Ahh – Oooooh – Werewoman of Brooklyn
I’m a lady lycanthrope
But I’ll rip out your throat
Ah – Oooooh – Werewoman of Brooklyn
I’ll fulfill your dreams
If you don’t mind a few screams
For Carol Brown's Funny Spooks Contest
Sitting around smoking dope,
is this silly lycanthrope.
Toking is always fun,
Now I want food by the ton.
Laughing and looking around,
but no food in this house can be found.
I guess I'll have to go out for some grub,
I guess I'll find some unexpecting bub!
So I head to the local village,
for someone's bones to pillage.
I creep around,
looking for someone tasty in town.
Oh look someone too fulfill my appetite,
walking alone through the night.
The hunger making me much crazier,
I pick my teeth with James Fraser.
He looks like a meal that can't be beat,
a great poet is a yummy treat.
I creep up and leap,
knocking him from his feet.
Ripping out his lily white throat,
in his blood I do gloat,
Thanks for being a delicious meal,
my belly you did fill!
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