I hope to gather a bunch of Werewolf and Shifter Poetry here. Poetry, like other forms of Art, speaks with language of the soul, and captures things that words, used in a normal way, cannot. Thus The Werewolf and Shifter HandBook would not be complete without Werewolf Poetry.

Here I will archive poetry by or about Werewolves and other Shifters, and poetry that evokes a "shifter-type" mood, also some humorous stuff and basically any Werewolf poetry I can find. I'm especially interested in poetry that fits in both categorys, especially if it is about WereCreatures or Animals. To send me your poems, email them to me at slathe@ksu.ksu.edu and be sure to include:

1) Whether the material is copyrighted, and what the copyright should look like.

2) What name you wish the poem to be attributed to (such as your nickname, your real name, or "anonymous")

I've seen quite a lot of great WereCreature poetry, but, regrettably, did not save much of it. I look forward to collecting some here. I'd also like to collect links (links to save me the disk space) to any Were-stories you have posted on the net and would like this page linked to.

Lionel the Lycanthrope: a humorous poem about a Werewolf

Asikaa's Poetry Collection

Asikaa's Fiction Collection

	Brief Windows

 I do not live in the front of my mind
 like other people do 
  focused on the here
  and the now
  with little thought for other things. 
 The front of my mind is busy - 
  thinking many things
  and going through school
  and living in the same here and now
  that other people do
 it has shut me out.

 So I live elsewhere
  in the little shadowed corners of my mind
  cut off from the world.
 And sometimes thoughts come back to me
  from the front of my mind
  and I write them 
  but it never comes out quite right.
 And I only see the world
  through brief windows
  gaps in the seething mass of thoughts
  in the front of my mind.
 And I look at the world 
  and I laugh 
  and I cry.
 Because the brief windows
  show me different things
  conflicting things
  they cannot all be in one world.
 So which world is real?
  out of the different worlds I see
  which are illusion
  and which is reality?
 Or are they all just dreams?
  views spun of madness
  a small mind 
  trying and failing
  to grasp the multiverse.

 I have tried to ask the humans
  sometimes  
  when I am in the front of my mind 
  for a moment.
 I ask them which brief window is the true one
  for surely they know
  living as they do
  surely they can tell me which is real.
 But they will not tell me
  they think I am insane
  and perhaps I am.
 For none of them see the other worlds
  why do I?
 
 And the windows come and the windows go,
  and I am cast adrift 
  in a sea of dreams 
  until another opens.
 
 And I live in the little shadowed corners of my mind
  and I look at the world through brief windows
  and I laugh
  and I cry.
  

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