Werewolves Poems

Werewolves

All Hallows’ Eve, the thirty-first, and shadows dark abound.
The fog was lurking everywhere, the full moon could not be found.
I was walking through the park when I felt them all around.
And the night got very quiet ‘til I heard that awful sound.
	And it sounded a lot like screaming.
	And it sounded so very foul.
	As the werewolves

The Waltz Of The Werewolves

At high noontime, the tires are burning in the streets
The sound of barking dogs is everywhere; the cats of hell smell
Like never showered rats who are locked up in death row cells
Where the air does not go through sealed windows
No, my friends, I'm not dreaming; it’s a nightmare. The sun
Is warming the pavement and the

Werewolves Among Us

There are werewolves among us, or so it is said.
Not unlike what you conjure when you think “lycanthrope”.
They plot and they scheme for the blood they will shed;
they lurk in the shadows and feed on lost hope.

Their lens to the world is a skewed microscope.
They're drawn to the viral; it’s vile what they spread.
They must

The Lone Ranger and Werewolves

When the Lone Ranger has his finger on his gun's trigger, he constantly has to pull it.
When the moon is full, he hunts and kills werewolves, that's why he uses silver bullets.
He also uses silver bullets to stop outlaws from committing crimes.
But he uses those bullets to kill werewolves the majority of the time.
A werewolf

Impossible

It's impossible
Lost within a family
Werewolves in taverns
Cause the full moon at my house
Impossible to survive

Scotland's Monster Dinner

SCOTLAND'S MONSTER DINNER 

          walking upon the moors of Scotland    i saw a sprite who
became a unicorn -- she mated with Kelpie:  kissing
therianthropy --> she rode the unicorn:   shedding her skin--     
saltire!
I when to Restaurant Andrew Fairlie -- 
manager said someone got mutilated late last night -- upon the 
moors

Werewolves and Burning Tires

when life is running just fine
purring like a cat, in its prime
some night under a full moon
a werewolf craps on your silver spoon
turns your heart into a burning tire

Wild Were-Women, a Force

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

Travel Plans

A nice cruise from New York, I thought

From down by Pier two-one

I thought I'd head to England

For a good old spot of fun

An Ocean trip, some nice fresh air

Eleven days at sea

I thought this would perfect to

Help inspire me

I'd never been to Europe

So I did some reading first

The history's insane there

The books did quench my

Nocturnal De Vieux Carre' - Werewolves of the French Quarter

Not yet long into the night, a translucent mist hovers,
cold as it settles upon the fine hairs.
Runty knobs form along the exposed skin,
an insufferable chill has come to the Quarter.
Secured dwellings sheltering those from who prey in the dark,
prowling the vulnerable, pilfering life from the innocent.
Gas streetlights lay witness to this harrowing theater,
stretching shadows, slithering

Monster Masquerade

They said the party was to be 
the biggest of the year 
Planned up in the mountains
it would cause more fright and fear 
Everyone in town had been invited to attend 
To meet their brand new neighbors
have a chance for all to blend 

The ghoulish bash got started 
as the sun was going down 
The

Werewolves

As we are trap
By the moonlight
We run for miles
Some of us are friendly
And some are evil
We try to be humans
But we are to different
From everyone else
We don’t like to be freaks
We wanted to be normal
Like everyone else
Our eyes are pitch black
We love to run
By the moonlight

Werewolves

The moon is full
And all the werewolves are out
It’s time for transformation
Ye mother, ye fathers
Do not be in a haste to vouch for us
For the werewolves you know not
Until the dance of the full moon

We dance at every full moon
Believe me, you know us, though you know not
You have had our screams of lust
Ye brothers,

....Werewolves....

Today I got to watch one of the most pathetic displays

Of human dignity, morals and character, that my eyes they  have 'ever' beheld

It was like being in the midst of a safaris jungle, within a surreals disbelief

Watching these certain cannibalistic animals, running wild and sadly free....

Feeling so much compassion for the recipient, of their

Werewolves

Starving amber eyes that drink oasis scraps 
  Thrown from her cast off demeanour to fall 
Upon the bare heart scape which formats and maps 
  The course of true love, or of nothing at all. 
I am monkshood drawn, snared willingly onward, 
  No gaining of ground only losing of grip,

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