Wolfs Fist
Wolfs Fist rode
On a purple toad
In the land of
The Giant Red Eft
He was a froggy young buck
With astounding good luck
To find young love
In the lake
He was on his way
To play in the bay
With a lovely undine
Named Caroline
They danced and
Made love under
The Moon above
Upon a Midsummer time
The crickets called out
In a merry loud shout
To see a frog dance
Without any pants
They slept on a bed
Of cat tail heads
Under shimmering
Crystalline skies
I'll be back at nine
Said Caroline
As they dined on a breakfast
Of snails
She promised more of the same
Of their steamy love game
As Wolfie stared
Into her eyes
May I borrow your toad
I never have rode
A steed so
Purple and big
They hugged and
They kissed
She rode off in the mist
Never to be seen again
Wolfie walked home alone
As the silver Moon shone
Promising never
To love
Anther slippery water sprite
In the middle of the night
Or loan her
His purple toad
DC Jordan 9-10-2026
There is nothing like falling for a wolf.
To which you would do anything for.
After once wounding the wolf,
there is not a length you will go to repay the wolf.
For allowing his fangs in your neck
means his bite may redeem your sins.
So you let him bite and hope it is hard enough
to leave you unconscious of any sin you may have committed.
After all, the wolf knows better than a dumb bunny.
Little Wolf sends her prayers upwards to Father Sky
Depending on His guidance and wisdom to save her tribe
The answer may not come today or even tomorrow
But she has to try to appeal to his loving side
Little Wolf is not easy to rattle, she knows that…
Sometimes His answer is no
He has His reasons
a forlorn howl
his mate is lost or gone
he is lonesome tonight
she cannot be replaced
the way of wolves
his lament is sad
the moon cries silent tears
WHAT ABOUT WOLFS
shel silverstein: a bit childish, his giving tree my kids remember, though its parts were dismembered as it gave to the bitter end of life.
ogden nash: well, he gives us moo and milk, until the utter end, short and brief. reminds us of the soup’s - wolf.
wendy cope: born in kent in the london broil (ahem…borough) of bexley. things are going clunk and your face has too much gunk, a hoarder with thirty years of junk and especially she doth remind us don’t answer email when you're drunk.
william james collins: a hoot, billy! only child, born in manhattan, dear old dad worked on wall street. a poet laureate’s big recital on two poems about what dogs think (probably) - what about wolfs?
gershon wolf: he’s flower power-ful in his jest. for example - hippies pulled the triggers and out came flowers. though other comedic poets might create a chuckle, gershon always makes us smile.
7/21/2022
If we follow from the start
doesn't the brain control the heart
was the day before the night
if the moon is circular
would then circles be
moonular
or am i just
a lunar
tick
tock
tick
Throw me to the wolfs
And I will surely lead the pack
Some lead it from the front
But I will lead it from the back
Watching every move
The adversary makes
Hear my ghostly howl
When the full moon wakes
When I sink my teeth
Into inviting flesh
You can bet your bottom dollar
There'll be a bloody mess
16 October 2018
to be kind in a world of cruelty is nothing but courage the world is filled with shadows of the past it all ways will be but to let the shadows cloud the light of the soul is a harsh and cruel sin on but man kind it self for every soul is different every writing on the heart is nothing more than fairy tales of past dreams crushed one way or another but to judge and to scream the scars at a whiten soul to you and to i is something i will never understand for i have coped with this learning in my life as well for all humans are different for we are a flock of the earth but to see the monster of the wolf in a sheep of wool i see many struggle time and time again
she sat on a pedistal
silver but white
youth here eternal
old, but not quite
shes stolen my heart
and she wont give it back
i just want to tell her
but heres what i lack
i need her approval
i need to feel love
love not for her
but love for myself
CHORUS
redder than rose
or the blood in the snow
bluer than oceans
her eyes seem to glow
i know its unlikely
but heed my request
love me my darling
not like the rest
----------------------
i see her now daily
she seeks out my form
she craves what i bleed
she sees through the storm
CHORUS
i love you my dear
i swear it right here
i have all you need
but you need to hear
CHORUS
she said "what have you to offer me?"
I answered with sincerity.
"my queen, i am humble. i have not much to offer, as i have no money or kin to speak of.
but heed my words, queen, as i come for reasons even god would not understand.
i bring to you, my queen, only what you see.
i offer to you my heart. let the blood it flows sustain you.
i offer you my soul, and may its vitality teach you more than any teacher.
i give you my body, and may its warmth keep you through the night,
so that you may never be alone, my queen, so long as i live.
A Wolf’s Paradise
A place, where once the wolves of time, shook off their godly shields,
To come to Earth eternally, where only seasons yield.
They fashioned then, a godly place, of wood and shade and stone,
to rest their souls and bide awhile. A heavenly, earthly home.
All have tried to sing of thee, the Human, Nymph and Muse.
Of your verdant halls of ochren shades, which golden lights suffuse.
These wolves of time, have erelong passed from memory, thought and deed
And left this for humanity, a place for those in need.
A heady place, of mossen scent, this place of liquid time,
Where peace and joy, yet still abound and all this can be thine.
A fastness free, from troubles real, a place to soothe thy soul.
A drink of serendipity, true tastes of life, your goal.
Come, walk with me within these walls of wood and shade and stone.
Come, lay with me in spirit’s rest, this one true wolfenholme.
Brushy
For many years we've been at each other's throats
Like two wolfs fighting over leadership.
Yet neither one of us wins.
I've tried to let go and talk things over but it is no use.
You always seem to have a death grip on me.
You keep digging your fangs deeper,
And deeper without realizing,
Just how close to death I am.
I'm giving up on you, fighting back this time.
I'm not going to let you hold me down any longer.
You're the leader and supposivly,
You're wise and know what's best.
But you've been too blind from feary to see,
Just how much you're taring me apart.
Why can't we settle this like humans,
Rather than dogs?
Do you realize just how much I hate you right now?
The funny thing of all of it is,
How much I also still love you.
Your are my family,
My leader of the pack.
But I'm becoming my own leader now,
And it's your turn to lossen your grip.
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