Werewolves

The full moon reflects
From the bottom of a beer can
Across the forest of inebriation
Flannel clad trees
And LBDs
A howl in the night
Echoed by another
From between a stranger’s bedsheets
Relishing in clawmarks
Hickies feel like hallmarks
Animals in the night till the sun comes out

Morning light on naked skin
Coats shed in the night
Awakening between stranger’s sheets
And heading home
Head aching
Mirror breaking
At the weak being before you

Oh how it felt to have talons
To have beastly fangs
A couple of canines
Linked in a cottonmouth kiss
Two restrained hunters
Passing
Acting unacquainted
At least until they next time
They glimpse each other
In that aluminium moonlight
-Galwyn

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Blog Problems

Good morning/afternoon/evening,

It seems like the blog seems to be experiencing a glitch which restricts the use of the “load more posts” button. In the mean time, I’ve added a monthly archive section if you’d like to backtrack to certain posts. 

I apologize for the inconvenience, and will be attempting to fix this promptly. It is likely a conflict with the button’s functionality and the template I modified to make the blog. Please don’t be surprised if the site gets a facelift instead of being gutted in search of the coding conflict.
Cheers!

-Galwyn

Exhausted

All good lines,
In time,
Become exhausted
And as our words shape us
We too became hazy

Incense turns to smog
Rising from a blackened tailpipe
Once a thin sweet trail
Now an obese and bitter cloud
Going nowhere

Once saying the right thing
At the right time
But gears begin to rust
And punctuality
Is lost

So where do wayward words
From wayward souls go?
Up into the darkening sky
Until the light of inspiration is blocked?

Unfair participation
Rains down
Drowns us
Crystalizes
And turns our simple home
Into a jagged fortress
Both outside and in

-Galwyn

Where Love Runs

My loneliness my onus
The price of love
Paid in advance
Or perhaps a sunk cost
Coins strewn to a graveyard
Pressed to my blind eyes

My penance is my faith
A child in the desert
Wandering more than 40 days
With no oasis
No spell or hymn
To end this dry spell

I’ve never dipped my feet
Or tried to wash my hands
In filthy bargain waters
They may flow through many
But that only thickens it
Congealed with salivation

I want to go where love runs pure
It runs both warm and crisp
It runs between a kiss
Balmy
Never startling
Unflinching

A well to drown myself in
But never die
The surface above me ripples
As I watch then sun rise and fall
Through a dancing kaleidoscope

Embraced by her up to my neck
Her love evaporates
Into the tranquil air I breathe
The precipitation above patters down
And runs its fingers through my hair

Thunder and lightning
Her heart was never domestic
A deafening pulse
To galvanize my own
Yet when the storm passes
All that is left is perspiration on my skin
Foggy and calm
Like the grass in the dawn
-Galwyn

Dish

A chef places his dish on the table
Robust and complex
The sharp one uses a sharp one
A four pronged scalpel
To taste the ingredients one after another
Then all at once
No gluttony here
Just satisfaction
Yet at another table
With the same dish and tools
A dull one raises a dull one
Bruising and mashing the art into food
And scraping it into the bin
Not filling, they say
And far too bitter
-Galwyn

Warden

Loneliness is the warden of the heart
Confining your love behind cold steel bars
Though always for its own good

Your pulse once waltzed for another
A ballroom of shimmering glitz and gold
But it tuned to iron and splintered bone

The hours pass for your weathered heart
The sorrowful cell of painful mitosis
Mistakes compounding upon your mind

Yet as your sentence ends
The period starts the next one
Denying birth of a broken heart
And making way for love to shine through
-Galwyn

Train

The train calls in the night
Hours past 12
And hours before the sun

Yet it was not unheard
For as the town sleeps
I lie awake bound to my thoughts

The train calls again
Screaming into the pre-dawn air
Longing to escape those rails
No matter the destruction it’d cause
-Galwyn

A Word

I tried to find a word for her
A word to give her
A word to call her
A word to warm her
In these arms smeared with ink

I tried to find a word to show her
A word to express
A word to reminisce
A word to suppress
All the pain that came before her

I tried to find the word to say to her
A word to bring me to a knee
A word to bring a smile to her face
A word to bring her a shoulder to lean on
And a word to bring this dream to life

But I stay asleep
And we stay apart
For I do not know the word for her
And worse than this,
I don’t know if there ever was,
Such a word
Or such a person
For someone like me
-Galwyn

Ism

Cynicism, Pessimism, Skepticism
Three “ism”s
Defining the schism
Between childlike wonders
And nihilism
No gentle conveyance
No euphamisms
Life tears apart the colors
Just like a prism
-Galwyn

Millennium 

They said it was up to us
Up to me
Like there was some part we were to play
Whilst antagonized into protagonists

We would be the ones to save it all
Yet we are the ones to blame
For somehow ruining it in the first place
As if by some original sin

We were born broken
We worked hard to fill the cracks with hope
Yet we are still lazy it seems
Fingers incapacitated from picking up the pieces

We are always wrong
But pardon me for complaining
Whipped for our arrogance
Pardon me for explaining

Despite this, we learned
Promised jobs and warm smiles
Minds dreaming for evolution
Left dusty behind counters

Proud of the jobs we can land
Yet crying ourselves to sleep
These “precious snowflakes” prepared for cold
Yet were thrown to the heat

The stubborn will croak
And leave us with their mess
From behind all our counters
We begin to to as we do best

We think of what we’ve learned
What we need to do to move on
Yet each measure is stillborn
Naiveté gone
History
Math
Science
Art
It all points to the dismal truth
Which only we seem to see
Too smart to be stubborn
Too compressed to be diluted
The fission on words
Mirrors the fusion of thoughts
The future can’t change
And the past was never really golden
We can’t fix what was never right

So here we see the burden
We were born into long ago
There wasn’t a thing worth fixing
The burden is to know
-Galwyn