a thorn in his paw caused him anguish most of the day
his mood got darker, he wanted to crucify someone
at least make them suffer half as much as he was
by noon he was the angriest he had ever been
an angry werewolf, not welcome anywhere
he was in too much pain to sleep, so he stomped around
looking for mischief, scaring the flesh off some of the townspeople
this gave him a teensy bit of a reprieve
by the time he saw the line of jack-o-lanterns he was frantic with rage
he stomped them, slammed them, chopped them, tore them
a werewolf with a sore paw is not something anyone wants to discover
I was too frightened to help him so I locked myself in my car
which he rocked with his strong body, hoping to terrorize me
a frightening Halloween night for this writer
Some witchery has happened in my past
As I was prowling swiftly through the woods,
The scent of freedom in my nose, my lungs,
My hungry stomach and my lonely soul.
That fateful evening as I fell asleep
There was no premonition and no hint
That in the morning as the sun appeared
I’d realize that I was not myself.
What were these hairless long and stumbling legs?
What were these arms that didn’t touch the ground?
What were these teeth that couldn’t maim and kill?
And this desire for a human’s touch?
Since that much-hated day I’ve lived in towns
And villages with people who do not
Suspect the origins of my unhuman self.
I eat their food, I dance around their fires,
But once a month, when skies explode the moon,
And when my past is screaming in my face,
My every tooth becomes a canine knife;
I’m on all fours, I flee towards the woods…
The morning comes, and being back in this
Forever weak, forever naked flesh
Is worth the taste of fresh delicious blood
Upon my chops, if only once a month.
A lesser moon I can quite well withstand,
A gentle crescent grants a gracious smile,
To all the world, an honest helping hand,
And friends well know I'll go the extra mile.
But then there comes that shining disk of hell,
And buried in a hole, I feel its flood,
And then regret my wit and sharpened smell,
And all that lusts the rip and flowing blood.
And one may say I should not be a wolf,
As wolves have said I should not human be;
I am the thread that spans across the gulf,
The day and night it seems the world must see.
And so there lies the deep divided one,
Each half despising what the other's done.
Old Rumple Stein gathered
the trembling children near
the frosted manor windows
as the full moon rose.
"Listen closely to the
snapping of the twigs out in
the dark estate," he whispered
slyly.
A cursed beast with matted
black fur and jagged yellow
fangs wanders these empty
hallways.
Its long, razor- sharp claws
scrape against the bedroom
doors with a terrible SCREEECH.
You will hear its heavy, wet
breathing right outside your
room before the doorknob
slowly turns.
It hunts the moment the sun
goes down, sniffing the air
for your terror.
The creature let's out a blood-
curdling howl that shakes the
very dust from the ceiling.
Golden, glowing eyes peer
through the keyhole,
watching you hide beneath
your thin blankets.
If it catches your scent, its
drooling jaws open wide to
swallow you whole.
"Do not dare to close your
eyes tonight," Rumple
snickered, "for the werewolf is inside."
dark Lord, lend me your horns and tail
the monster you need is with me in jail
my brother mike, a werewolf mean
he is the perfect villain on Halloween
His howl is treacherous, it ruins your suppers
His teeth are revolting, especially the uppers
Nightmares will be given throughout the night
to anyone who has seen his transformed sight
who else has the haunches to run children down?
To scare them so hard, the earth turns brown?
What other animal's howl causes your blood to stop?
you can pause right here, the werewolf is your only op.
when he wolfs out, there is blood in his teeth
he captures humans and tears into flesh above and beneath
the screaming goes on for a long time until his prey is dead
he will keep you tossing all night, scared to death inside your bed.
werewolf did not think he was scary enough
He wanted to dress like a pirate or other stuff
Maybe a mummy he said, but he looked so silly
The rest of us laughed are petootsies off said Dilly
Full Moon High
From Human to Beast
Craving can’t hold
Search for flesh
Attacks and Eats
Darkness through the evil eyes
Wolfman calling the shots
Bullets with careful aim
Targeting the heart
Instant death
Don’t be bitten by a Werewolf
One bite, a human will become one
Watch as the Full Moon formulates
Transformation bout
Wolfman strength
Powerful and fierce
Beware and on alert
Somewhere and somehow, the Wolfman lurks
Whispers of the wind rise through my pink hued leaves.
Ethereal evening glow lights the skies.
Raiders of the dusk, hovering on standby.
Walking my way past, I take the dais.
Omnipresent generals in attention stand along with me biased.
Longing wreathes wait on the carved guardians of kingdom mean.
Voyage through the vast unknown is on cards
Either a march to victory or martyrdom I believe.
Salvo of battle cry reverberates unseen.
The clouds were moving swiftly
across the darkened sky
The howling wind raced through the trees
the leaves were flying by
His heart was beating like a drum
that pounded in his chest
Trying to release the demon
long ago at rest
His body started to convulse
it shook without control
In one more minute he would lose
the last part of his soul
Transformed into a savage
with no logic and no reason
A cursed abomination
he is doomed through every season
Now the man is gone
and in his place there stands a beast
The darkest part inside of him
once hidden, now released
The creature howled out at the moon
a tear was in his eye
Because inside the monster
lives a man who still can cry
Why is that bolt of fabric bolted to the ground?
I did not realize the guy was a werewolf until he turned around.
I wanted to bolt, but I had to be politically correct, right?
His teeth were enormous; they gave me a Halloween fright.
"It’s got witches on it, they come alive," he growled toward me.
His two canine teeth were gleaming bound to rubber bands I could see.
I wanted to bolt now, but I stood my ground and asked innocently
“How do witches come alive from material, if you please?”
He said let me get a bit of dust out of the way my dear.
When the dust flies in the air as I dust, it will become clear.
He took a feathered duster from the pocket of his duster.
They floated into the air and spelled “Muster Cluster Buster.”
This told me nothing, but I wanted to bolt nevertheless.
Werewolves are storms I do not want to weather, no matter how pure.
I weathered away quietly, as you may have guessed.
That’s the last time I will go into that fabric store for sure.
Tonight's a full moon
And I'll stop and I'll swoon
When I see that big ball of white
'Cuz it's that time once again
To come out of my den
And stir up a frenzy or fight
Yes, the moon's nice and full
And though things have been dull
It's time I came out of my lair
I'll stay out half the night
And give grown men a fright
With these sharp claws and great mass of hair
Oh, tonight's a full moon
And I'll whistle a tune
Looking dainty and sweet 'til it's late
And I'll bet you would guess
That it's just PMS
But an actual werewolf's my date.
werewolf reaches his paws in the air
plucking the moon out of her safe place
he has ominous plans, ones I cannot fathom
I fearfully stare as it is happening
Sometimes, the night can be so dark
And even hope has no spark
But with the light of pristine glow
Hope for the world begins to grow
In dusk of dawn, hope lives again
To cast the light of its glorious grain
So those who prey on blood of the faultless
Will pay the price for their transgress
And by the power of the moonlight
He lived again to be a knight
Left fist of Konshu, he became
And the night revered his name
Plain man by day, werewolf by night
He saves the world with all his might
Against the shadow of the darkness
His glorious glow is full of brightness
Against the dark, he does not falter
So the evening can be brighter
For the glow of his valor
Blurs the darkness like a shining armor
Moon Knight Friend or Foe 3 Poetry Contest (2nd place)
Sponsored by: Robert James Liguori
A serial killer Peter Stumpp
more than fourteen bodies he did dump
he ate his prey
or so they say
he was tortured at a callithump
Note: Referred to as the Werewolf of Bedburg, the German farmer confessed to the atrocities after being tortured – was convicted, skinned, bones broken, impaled, burned at the stake, and then beheaded in 1589.
Wreaked with the scent of a wet dog
the werewolf stretched it's neck and howled
to the bloodred moon
Thick red fluid dripped from his long fingernails
the werewolf vented thick steam from his swollen nostrils
in a forest overloaded with pain and fear
Flexing his muscles he knew he was hunted
as he began to dart, jump and dash through the thickets
burning torches shadowed his path
His razor sharp teeth bit down into the hunters necks
he would rip their bodies to pieces
noone kills the werewolf
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